(You’re America)

You’re father raised you very Catholic, you’ve never really liked girls but you would date them anyway to make him happy. Even since you became independent you’ve still always gone for girls. Until you met this one guy. He wiggled his way into your life. Now you’re together. You’re basically married. Just not legally. He’s not the best guy, far from it actually. He’s really controlling over you, like really controlling. But you can’t leave him because last time he threatened to call the cops and get you down for “crimes against nature.” Asshole.

You two have been together for a few years now, you went out drinking with some friends. You’re pretty drunk but he didn’t have much to drink so at least one of you would be sober enough to get from the bar back to the house.

You’re really not in the mood to do anything but flop on the bed and pass out but as you get into the front door and he closes and locks it, he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his head into your neck, he kisses your shoulder. You roll your eyes in annoyance.

“You looked perfect tonight darling,” He says, his southern accent prominent.