
“Look,” he said as he rolled his eyes.
I cradled the vape pen in my hand.
“I don’t want to talk about memes with you."
I raised my left eyebrow. He had taken the time to install blacklight bulbs in the ceiling. He had also increased the volume on some sensual drum and bass music. I was in love.
“Memes are puerile trite,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
I bit my tongue.
“I mean, I’m not the average Reddit user,” he said as he snorted a line of ketamine. "I'm afraid I just can't relate to their humour."
I curled my toes.
“You should go on /pol/ sometime,” he whispered.
I cooked him dinner that night.

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