Lip and you were on his bed, still naked and sweaty from the absolute fuckfest you had. You were leant into his side with your head on his chest and your leg over his.

He had gotten mad at you for applying to colleges for him, to which you snarled back how much work and effort it took for those applications. Boy, did he thank you.

His fingers were slightly tangled with yours, gently playing with them as you sat in comfortable silence.

“You use that Mandela speech in all your applications?” he asked you softly. You looked up at him, smiling a little.

“No,” you mumbled, “I mixed it up a little bit. Couple of dead presidents and some guy called Gandhi..”

“Gandhi?” he repeated with a soft chuckle. “I don’t get why you’d want me to go to MIT,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

You let go of his hand, moving it to his chest as you shifted slightly, moving your head down it. Your fingers stroked his torso gently, listening to the sound of his soothing heartbeat.

“Y’know, Boston’s pretty far away…” he continued gently.

You shrugged sadly. “I thought maybe you’d take me with you, but…” you trailed off.

He looked down at you curiously. “But what?”

“No one’s ever been as good to me as you have,” you admitted. “You’re better than this neighbourhood. You’re better than anyone I’ve ever met and you deserve to get out… even if you don’t take me with you, which I never really thought you would anyway…”

Lip said nothing, just moving his other hand to cup the side of your head and pressing his face into the top of it, pressing a gentle kiss there.