phil

"so," i begin. "how old are you?" i ask him and he crosses his arms across his chest, staring skeptically at me.

"you said you won't ask personal questions," he raises his eyebrows at me and i groan.

"oh my god, come on! what can i possibly do with your age? search up 'sixteen year old child with brown hair' on google?" i mock him and he squints his eyes at me in an annoyed manner.

"you are such an ass!" he exclaims. "and i am not a child, i am eighteen thank you very much," he mutters and i smirk at his aggravated expression.

"great, i am twenty two," i smile at him and he scoffs.

"wow, so i am stuck here with my grandpa. what would you like? a foot massage?" he teases me and i roll my eyes at him.

"shut up,"

"alright, so, what am i supposed to confess?" he asks, a small smile on his lips as he crosses his legs under him.

"anything you want," i tell him and he seems to think for a moment before answering.

"this is so weird," he laughs awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

"no it's not," i pout and his eyes scan my face before sighing.

"can you ask me questions?" he asks, and i smile at him, slightly nodding my head.

"sure," i place my elbows on my knees and rest my chin in my hands. "what's your favourite food?" i ask him and he doesn't think twice before answering.

"maltesers," he states confidently. "i can eat maltesers all day. what's yours?" he asks and i think about it for a moment before answering.

"i like popcorn," i tell him and he tilts his head a bit in confusion.

"that is so weird," he laughs at me, and i furrow my eyebrows at him. "who likes to eat popcorn?" he continues laughing. his laugh is kind of cute, deep dimples carve in both his cheeks and his eyes squeeze shut.

"i do," i state defensively and he stops laughing, placing a hand against his chest and taking a deep breath, a huge smile still plastered on his face.

"sorry, i just, you're stupid," he chuckles and i slap his knee playfully. i am not really offended that he is laughing at me, it's actually kind of nice talking to him. i thought he'd be a rude teenager who will have a stick up his ass but he is seems okay.

"gee thanks," i roll my eyes. "your turn,"

"oh, so we are doing it that way?"

"yes," i nod my head. "yes we are,"

--
sometimes i feel im alcohol other times i don't