Careful, honey, it’s loaded,” he said, reentering the bedroom.
Her back rested against the headboard. “This for your wife?”
“No. Too chancy. I’m hiring a professional.”
“How about me?”
He smirked. “Cute. But who’d be dumb enough to hire a lady hit man?”
She wet her lips, sighting along the barrel.
Me most of the year: Want that. Want that. Want that.
Me near my birthday & Christmas: I CANNOT THINK OF A SINGLE THING I WANT.
me in 2012: *tags a reblogged text post with relatable content 'same'*
me in 2014: *tags a picture of a cabbage cut in half 'same'*