Your parents always told you, “he’s a punk! He’s no good!” And you knew he wasn’t your ideal straight A student, but he was your safe space.

Often nights you came to his place to hang, play guitar with him, make out, cuddle, etc. but he didn’t like labels.

“So, your parents still think I’m too much of a punk?” He gave you a grin, you two had just finished a make out session, his hands on your hips.