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Summary
“I’m sorry, hold up. You’ve never carved a pumpkin before?” Lexi questions as she sits up on her elbows from her spot on Fezco’s bed.
Across the room her boyfriend smirks around the end of the blunt he’s just put to his lips, lighter held aloft as he raises a single eyebrow at her. She looks at him expectantly, waiting for whatever his explanation could possibly be as to why he’s staring down twenty years old and hasn’t carved a fucking pumpkin before.
