I really like my new friends.
The lights were dim and the crisp buzz of the California winter air sent a puff of smoke in the air, as you laughed.
She looked at your feet as you shuffled them. She walked out of the bar putting her jacket with a surprised face of “Oh my - it’s cold”. You both knew you were stereotypes of the California fashion, 54 degrees is an ice prison ‘round these parts.
That’s all I got so far. But this would be a favorite scene if one ever existed.
Existential and unattainable grossmance.
Bexse a mailings out is for buf cute he