College life was perfection.

Games, dances, late nights studying..

And your boyfriend.

You met him at a house party playing beer pong, and things took a toll from there.

You loved him because he was so.. mature. He wasn’t insecure, he was so, very understanding. But best of all, he took care of you.

Recently, your college had announced they were holding a formal gala, expensive, classy dresses and competitions of popularity.

Geto had voiced his dissatisfaction of the idea, saying it was useless to spend upwards of 100$ for a silly dance. You never told him how much you wanted to go.

Today was three days until the gala, and it was all you could hear about.

The whispers in your ear while trying to “study” were driving you absolutely mad. Maybe not emphasizing how you hate it, but how much you desperately longed to put yourself in a sparkly dress, with a handsome Geto on your arm.

“Hey babe.”

A voice broke through your internal fight, followed by a kiss planted on your forehead as a tall, black haired Geto sat down on the chair next to you in the library.

He dropped his backpack on the floor, sucking his teeth from a previous meal as he pushed a packaged sandwich onto your notebook, freshly bought from the college cafe.

“Still working on that?”

He mumbled, peering over your shoulder as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Oh, he better have a sign and two tickets in that bag.. Because you just couldn’t take it anymore.