Wherever You Go- Ron Pope
“I love you, Eury. Just you! I wouldn’t do that, I swear,” he grovels, grabbing both my hands in his and holding onto them tight.
“Fine, whatever.” I don’t want to listen to him rambling on and on.
“Forgive me, please,” he begs me.
“Sure,” I mutter, just wanting to be left alone.
“Don’t do that closed off thing with me, Eury. I know you.” He raises his eyebrows as if daring me to deny it. He bends down and gets on a knee right in front of me. He reaches his hands towards me, the puppy dog eyes working in full force.
“I forgive you,” I tell him, holding back a smile at his cheesy theatrics.