Grif

Grif was kind enough to bring me food from a shelter, but I really don’t need it.

He even made lunch for me.

I owe him one, yes, but I do not owe him my discomfort. He grabs me like we’re dating or something, and gives me kisses. I tell him not to.

He’s putting moves on me, even though, when I first met him, I told him I had a boyfriend.

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