#erik the guy who doesn't take orders from anyone

[nocturnalazure]

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

COLORS, PART 2

*Smutless

Before I even look at anyone else's work, I reinforce sharp lines and darken the darkest areas on my painting with blue tones and deep browns. I'm working on organic matter, a bouquet of flowers and it requires trusting my eyes. I can't paint in the way that feels good, I have to be precise for realism.

"Much better," Yaya nods and I smile having not noticed that she was standing behind me watching. "After one class too and no one told you anything," she adds.

"Imagine if I got some real feedback."

"Mr. Peters," she calls gently to the professor who comes right over. He's young and cute with locs and a septum piercing. A little kooky, but loved by his students and eager to help. 

"How can I help you?"

"Criticize Meg's painting. What's she missing?"

"Honest critique," he asks and I nod. "Beautiful but it doesn't give realism. You left no room for the halo effect around the outer petal and your red leans too brown, that part is pink," he points the mid-petal. Black is not an outline color, retire your black completely. White it not an outline or highlight. Also that flower petal would have a tiny amount of speckling realistically. I'd typically use a toothbrush and splash with the bristles, but do what you can.. Keep going, you're doing so well."

"Gee thanks..." Looking at my painting with fresh eyes, I need to start over. I know I can do this way better and I'm excited to try, but I don't have the time. I have to suck it up and finish this current painting.

"What did Kellan say about your work of art last week," Yaya asks suddenly. "Could he see a difference in your technique?"

"I told you Kellan don't give a damn about my techniques or my skill level. He doesn't have an eye. He sees paint on canvas and to him it's finger painting."

"So you ain't show him. Is that because of the subject of the painting?"

"You mean the big black dick? Maybe. He's not..," I don't wanna sound mean but, "He don't understand art. He wouldn't see it how we see it. If I show him that painting he's gonna it's pornographic and then he'll think something that ain't true and I don't feel like dealing with that."

"Doesn't sound like you're compatible."

"You were just caping for him last week," I glare. "You should pick a stance."

"Oop! Well how about I'm not caping, I thought I was helping you look at things a different way because you can be harsh."

"Harsh? Because I see how things are and I tell you? You don't accept it until you repeat it. Then you wanna act like you told me something new. That's one thing that drives me crazy about you."

"I can think of more than a couple things about y-"

"Okay y'all ruining the energy in this room," Francis' voice rises. "It's a beautiful day today, sun shining!"

It is.. We're all painting the same thing today and Yaya's looks better than mine again, but I can see why and how and part of it is her colors. They aren't muddy. "Use more paint," she says reading my mind. "Don't be scared to use it up. Then when you want to mix in a tiny amount of a new color you have more to work with, less paint stroke, less mud."

"I can't wait to start this over or paint something else," I say plopping paint on my picture. At this point I just want it finished. "I'm gonna paint my mom's houseplant at home soon as I get there."

"Mama," I call through the apartment wondering if she's in her room or maybe the bathroom. I can't find her anywhere. "Where you at ma," I yell before calling her cell. She picks up on the third ring and who do I hear in the background? My boyfriend loud and clear laughing.

"Who's that," he whispers suddenly. I could scream. Who did he think?!

"We at Friday's what you want back?"

"Back? Ma.. Y'all really went to eat without me?!"

"Oh girl hush."

"Why was Kellan at the house and y'all ain't care to call me? That's aight.. I'm coming now."

"Megan, chill," Kellan cuts in.

"What? You don't want me there?"

"I ain't say that.."

"Tuh! Look nigga. This between me and MY mama so you can butt outta this one."

"HEY," she snaps but she's cut off.

"I'm just tryna know mom a bit more. I'll see you when I bring her back," Kellan says. "Love you," they say in unison. The call drops and I'm left staring at my phone screen. I didn't even get to tell them what I wanted from there.

Grabbing the keys to my mom's car, I go there anyway and I look from the door once I'm inside to see if I see them sitting down at a booth or at the bar, but they're not in there. Curious, I sit in the car and call again.

"Y'all ain't even get my order before you rudely hung up. Before y'all leave Friday's can I get the chicken and shrimp?"

"Yup," she says.

"How's the food, y'all been there a while."

"I'm not gossiping about you if that's what you asking," she mumbles and I roll my eyes wondering what would make them lie to me.

"Nevermind. I'm a let y'all enjoy each other's company without me," I snap hanging up. I go into the Fridays and get a free chicken sandwich and when I get home I start painting. I use every tip to create something that looks like I didn't even paint it, that's how good it looks and I'm only half done when mom and Kellan mozy through the door laughing with mom holding a food bag. "Is that my food," I ask.

"Yeah, lil girl, take this bag and gone."

Kellan laughs and tries to kiss me on the forehead but I move and ignore him until he gets the point.

"Seriously..," he kisses his teeth and I take my stuff to my room, closing the door. I'm close to breaking up with him.

"And then they lied about where they went that's what really pissed me off," I seethe squeezing the hell out of my Sprite. It's a vending machine and student lounge day. Yaya has McDonald's that she got her other friend to bring her.

"Take half these fries." She dumps them on a napkin. "Maybe they went to a different Friday's."

I glare. "No, Yaya."

"Okay then they lied. What you gonna do about it, dump them both?" She squeezes ketchup on her fries and I grab the other pack.

"No just him. I don't want to, but he's really irritating me with these mommy issues and he doesn't think it's a problem."

"Alright so dump him. Maybe you can go for that model guy. What's his name?"

"I don't wanna just dump him though, you don't get it. I want to because he's pissing me off but then again I don't want to because I do still like him. I just want him to take me serious and stop!"

"But he hasn't and you know he won't.. so NEXT. What about that guy?"

"Erik? I don't know what to think about him and I don't need to trade one issue for another one if you feel me."

"You only spoke to him twice, maybe if y'all had an actual conversation.."

"You saw how that went when I tried."

"He was doing a job, what did you expect? Him to stop and talk to you the whole time?"

Nah.. Just most of it. "Besides when would I run into him again, those two times were by chance." The gallery showing comes to mind. I took the brochure from COLORS when I went and the event starts this Friday and lasts the weekend. Slim odds of catching him if he goes. "Anyway, I'm just venting to you. Not asking for instant solutions."

She shrugs sipping her drink, simple as that.

"So I'm going to the gallery event Friday night if my mama lends me the car."

"And there it is," she smirks from around her straw. "You act like you don't need my advice but in the end you always take it."

"Shut the fuck up," my face cracks. I wanna mean mug but my lip keeps twitching.

"That's why good things happen for you."

"Anyway.. If he's there I'll get at him. If not, I'm enjoying the gallery so win-win."

COLORS is transformed when I walk in. Paintings line the walls and I decide to start from the left and walk my way around the entry room. They did well balancing the crappy canvases with the icy ones. They're all landscapes. Grassy hills with ponds and windmills or trees. Oceans meeting the sky. The Savannah. Dirt.. Rain.. Storms. The topic changes with every room or space. When I get to the sip & paint room, it's human portraits. If I had known I could submit mine, I would've. Still, it's fun to look at everyone else's. I see April's name next to a painting of a guy, not Erik, but a different model. I wonder if anyone else submitted their work.

Moving onto the next cluster of portraits I see a tall beanie from the corner of my eye. Turning, I'm shocked to find my ulterior motive for coming standing eight feet away from me, staring at a portrait.

"Erik," I whisper getting his attention and he does a double take. He hadn't noticed me. "We can't keep meeting like this, just say you want me," I joke rubbing my palms together. He loves it, he's smiling as he comes over to my side draping his arm over my shoulders.

"Where's your painting," he asks now scanning the wall for it.

"At home. I didn't know we could submit them for this, I surely would have." I really would have, I'm a little disappointed that I didn't know.

"Aw, I wanted to see it.. I showed you mine..," his eyes twinkle flirtatiously. He really is a troll.. but not better than me.

"And it was (chef's kiss)," I tease watching humor briefly flood his eyes. "I'll bring my painting to show you but when would I see you?"

He thinks about it. "When you coming by COLORS again?"

"Rather than a drive-by why don't we just paint one night?"

"Aight," he nods. "Say when. I have classes, but when I'm free.."

"What school you go to?"

"Brandman.. You know it?"

My face gives it away. Of course I know it, that's Kellan's school. I wonder if they ever met.

"What program?"

"General Business."

That's Kellan's program.

"You know Kellan?" I'm on edge right now.

"Yeah I know Kellan, wait.. you hisss- ?"

"Girlfriend," I fill in the blank and he nods letting go of my shoulders. In this moment I wish I were single. This just got awkward.

"Look," he sighs. "I don't want any negative energy surrounding me, my karmic energy is pure as of now.. So please don't take it wrong that I can't meet up with you in good conciousness."

"We can't.. be friends?" I shrug.  I sound crazy right now.

"We can, but nothing beyond. No flirtation," he stares laying down the law. I get it. No line crossing.

"That's all I had in mind," I smile, a lie on my breath. If he smells it he doesn't call it out. "What's your contact, we can link and paint. I'll still bring the portrait."

He gives me his number and we part ways, him moving on to enjoy the exhibit while I move in a different direction to do the same. I don't notice when he leaves, I only notice that I haven't seen him. When I leave, I call my mom.

"Bring my car," she says. She leaves almost as soon as I get there so I call Kellan to come over.

"Hey baby," he greets squeezing my cheeks at the door like I'm five. I don't like that because my older brother used to do that before he moved. I stare as Kellan goes in the fridge for juice like he lives here.

"Why can't you kiss me like a normal boyfriend? I don't understand."

"What? Aw, come here. Big baby." He gives me a bear hug planting his lips on my forehead which isn't much different to me, but whatever. I'm tired of talking about it. I pull him to my room and push him to my bed. Of course he doesn't fight me, he just falls and lets me climb him. "You feeling frisky huh," he grins. I hate that word. My hand goes directly over his mouth.

"Don't talk." The more he talks the more turned off I get. He double hand smacks my ass and it helps, I'm back into it. We makeout until he moves me from on top.

"Left the condoms in the car. Be right back."

"Man hurry up," I yell after him and his clumsy ass knocks over my painted canvas which was backwards for a reason. He gets a glimpse and does a double take, stooping to pick it up and look at me. Here we go.

"What's this," his eyes go back and forth from the painting to my face.

"What it look like?"

"Who is this?"

"Don't start that, it's a model. I painted that last week. I also painted that self portrait," I point, "Those plants," I point again, "That fruit bowl." Neither of which are paintings he cared to see. I'd have shown him.

"Whose dick is this and why you painting naked men, was you in the room with him?"

"The room?"

"Here.. or his place?"

"Are you dumb? That's not how it works." He looks like I'm lying, his side-eye trained on me. "This is why I can't share my art with you, you either don't care or you judgy. I don't like that."

"I don't like you drawing dicks and thinking that's cool. You had to really focus on it didn't you? Did you like it?"

"Oh my God," I'm regretting calling him over now. If it's not one issue with him it's another. "It's ART. You don't see like that as an artist. It's purely interpreting and recording the human form."

"But you ain't deny it.. You liked looking at it."

"What is wrong with you? I'm not doing this with you, I don't have to explain myself." That fast I'm over it and I want him out. "You can go. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."

"You want me out so you can call this nigga," he mutters. "Who is he? I know him. He looks familiar."

He's staring at the picture so hard I decide to tell him. It's not like I have anything to hide. "He's an art model. Me and my classmates went to COLORS, a sip & paint where we all created these artworks.. and as it turns out you do know him. He goes to Brandman."

"I knew he looked familiar," he mutters still staring at the picture.

"Yeah, he said he knows you. Decent guy. I told him I was your girlfriend. Very respectful." He looks up at that and I roll my eyes. I shouldn't even be explaining. "You know, you could come to COLORS if you're that concerned."

He sits my painting back down and rubs through his mass or curly hair like he's stressed. I don't understand why he's so bothered by this, but I knew it would happen. "When," he asks.

"I'll let you know. In the meantime, goodbye because I'm tired.. of this conversation and your nonsense, I knew you'd trip over absolutely nothing."

"Nothing looks like a whole lot that I ain't fuckin with.. I bet ma don't know about this."

"GET OUT." I all but shove him out the door. I'd dump him right now if I didn't think he'd attribute it to Erik. Also Erik would think I did it because of him. I have to wait. I should've just dumped him back when Yaya said something. I don't even wanna go to COLORS anymore because all Kellan will do is ruin the vibe.

From the time Erik came through the door, Kellan has been acting up and saying lil slick shit that Erik's been graciously ignoring. It's embarrassing! Luckily I warned Erik about Kellan ahead of time so he knew what to expect. I, however, was somehow still caught off guard.

Moving his brush across the canvas, Erik's focused face is one worth painting. "You have to have an artistic bone in you somewhere Kells.. Eeeeveryone has one thing.. they can do artistically."

"Nah. I'm not artistic and I don't care for it outside of Megan's art."

"Hm," I mutter so only Kellan hears it. He doesn't care for my art either, but I keep that to myself and work on my painting. It's a guided paint night where we all paint the same picture, a star fall over snowcapped mountains and steep water valleys. I peak at Kellan's painting. "That's a cute mountain, you know if you use your brush and stipple you could get some texture." Taking a brush, I dip it in a little paint just to show him what I mean.

"You gone paint it or me," he says, so I put the brush down and let him do him.

"Small world.. How y'all meet?"

"We kept bumping into each other," I answer though it was addressed to both Erik and I. "Rest is history."

"Where and when did y'all bump into each other?"

Turning to Kellan, I mouth 'stop' because he's about to make things awkward AGAIN. I wish I didn't invite him, but I thought he'd chill if he saw there was nothing going on. Erik's been trying to be chill the whole time but I see the irritation. "I'm sorry you got wrapped up in this," I apologize as he tries to make it look like it's no big deal.

"Don't apologize for me," Kellan blurts with silence following. It's so much negative energy.

"So Erik.." We need a subject change. "How good is that model money? I may be interested."

"No you not. You'll do no such thing," Kellan stares, daring me to oppose. It takes me right back to being irritated.

"Don't tell me what to do Kellan. You ain't ever did that before I don't know why you think it's cool now.. Anyway.. How is it," I ask Erik again.

"You get a lil something, it depends. Ask me again in the winter."

"Oh no, stick to the warm weather I got you!"

"You ain't got shit. Ma would kill you," Kellan blurts.

"You mean MY mom would kill me? Mine?? I'm grown.. What are you talking about," I glare.

"You grown until ma beat that ass. That's broke hoe activity, getting naked for people. Call it whatever you want, you're still showing your body. Male or female."

I pause. "This from the nigga fuckin me in my mama's house?.. Try again. And call her ma one more time, I'ma sleep you. I keep telling you stop acting like we siblings. It's weird. I already have a big brother and you are not him."

"You salty. Don't bring up personal issues in public, that's a me and you situation."

"What the! I'm about to-" I wanna slap this blue paint on his face. "I can't do this." I drop my brush and grab my bag. "I gotta go, Erik, I'm sorry and I hope we can still be cool. If not, I get it. Completely. I'm out though."

Kellan follows me out. "You forget we came together?"

"Nah you did. What the fuck was that in there," I point to COLORS. We're in the parking lot. "You had to embarrass me, didn't you?"

"So I'm an embarrassment."

"Take me home," I snap jumping in the passenger seat of his car. When we get to my building I get out and slam the door. "I'm done. We're over, don't call me don't at me."

"It's because of Erik, ain't it. You wanted him that's why you creating problems with me."

"It's because of yo ass! I tell you the same thing all the time. You don't care, you don't listen. You ain't interested in nothing I'm interested in. You won't even try and tonight doesn't count because the only reason you came with me was to embarrass me. You were rude as fuck for what? Jealousy? He barely said two words."

"Bet you can quote both though." He looks so smug.

"You ain't hear nothing else I said."

When I get to the apartment, I look at the painting I meant to show Erik. I left it in my room because Kellan wanted me to give it to Erik for him to keep so I couldn't look at it.. As if I sit in my room lusting over painted dick. Either way, I wasn't about to give it up, it's portfolio material. Kellen can go.. if anything.

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Part 17: Interruption

Ahead, there's the tall engraved wall standing alone with the words Reunion Tower as big as your head. The words are also large on the building which has metallic accents, glass windows, glass walls, and glass doors. It's somewhat reminiscent of Erik's hidden house back in Cali now that you think of it.. if it were dropped in the middle of the city and a tower were placed on top. Take away the fields of green grass and the towering trees. Maybe that's why you seemed so much more excited than he did. He was aready used to it.

Inside, the lights pop even brighter than before. There's the fat, round silver-colored column with diamond cutouts and it glows neon blue on one side, purple on another, and orange on the other. The pink neon light flowing from the ceiling bleeds into the purple lights while the adjacent white ceiling lights bleed into the blue. On top of that, there's lime green to your right. It's a panorama of color.

"Look at you, easily impressed. Smile big my nigga." When you turn, he's got his phone in the air. Again. "Stand by that column over there. That light on your skin finna look cool as shit... Aight tilt your chin down and turn three centimeters to the left. That's four, come back one. Perfect."

"Stupid. Let me see." Looking over his shoulder, you watch as he flips through the photos. "Send me the ones from before too, I wanna send them to Ava and Toni. They said show them how the dresses look."

"Sending them now."

Group by group the pictures arrive in your text thread and you save them making a note to self to send them when you reach the hotel. You'd do it now, but you're ready to go. Now that you got the photos from him, you can send them whenever you want. For now, it's time to go eat because the last thing you ate was a snack and before that you'd only eaten once. Erik's inner fatboy has reared his head a couple times since then.. though in this moment, he's calm.

"Feed me Seymour," you yell beating him to it. You pull on the arms of his slim fitting navy pinstripe suit. He's dressed smartly with his black shirt, silver jewelry, and black oxfords. Of course he had to be like you with the black to match, you hadn't missed the gesture either time.

"I'm trying." He pulls you in the direction of the hot pink lights and you take your hand back to store the phone away in your clutch before following free from his hold. The elevator this time takes you to a floor with a red, tan, and black theme. There're red flower arrangements conveniently placed and even a red lit fountain with coins at the bottom of the shallow clear water representing the wishes of passersby. Digging in your clutch, you have a few coins from the change you got on the first day in Houston when you'd bought the both of you that food. Tossing the penny, you close your eyes and wish for a raise on your job. You already have a list of upgrades to your apartment you'd make. The showerhead. A new comforter. A security camera perhaps. Maybe another lock for the door.

Erik leads you into Five Sixty, a restaurant by Wolfgang Puck, and you look around briefly at the other people sitting and eating primly at their tables, the clang of silverware mingling with the chatter. A waiter in black and white passes in front of you drawing your attention to the magnificent view through the floor to ceiling glass windows lining the walls ahead. There's the cityscape and bright lights against a dark sky. It's the same view as before but it's even better because everything is amplified against the night.

"Wait, we sitting back here?" You look between Erik and the concealed booth he stands beside in a way that communicates your discontent. You didn't get all dressed up and fine to haul your cookies to this tower and hide in the back! "This is a new dress," you lean forward to whisper with a threat in your tone. You don't care that the waiter is there averting his eyes uncomfortably. "I didn't put this on to not be seen... They gone see me.. THIS.. tonight!" You smooth the thigh-length black lace dress with sheer lace sleeves and lace cutouts in the bodice that's hugging you just right. It's the same dress that made him go gaga and now he wants to deprive others of the vision? Oh no. On your feet are the strappy black heels and you use them to turn around looking for another empty table.

"Ay, come here! You are beautiful, that's true... You fine. Still, this is more private than sitting in the middle of the restaurant. I just wanted us to have some space.. to talk." Right, 'talk'.. that's code for hanky panky. You literally just did that. Aren't you tired? "Thanks," he eyes the waiter slapping his hand and you wonder how much money he slipped into it as the guy walks away. Erik gestures to the booth for you to slide in. It's concealed by a little wall and faces the window while he sits across from you facing the restaurant that's hidden from you. It's like being in a private room. There's even a fresh red floral arrangement on the table along with lit white candles, none of which were on the other tables. This.. This was thought out ahead of time. When did he call?

"I.. guess.. it's not.. so bad," you shrug watching the subtle tension in his shoulders drop. He's relieved and you can tell by the ghost of a smirk on his lips.. light dancing in his eyes. "Plus these flowers are beautiful," you add watching him tilt his face away modestly. Watching him shift his attention to the menu, you do the same.

"Get what you want. Whatever you don't eat, just take it out."

"I know the drill." He doesn't have to tell you, you already know the routine at this point. He won't be happy until you spend a couple hundred. He's got so much money it's burning a hole in his pocket. You could think of better ways to spend it.

Still. Being pampered is not a bad thing every once in a while. It's not like you get this type of sugar daddy treatment often.

"What are we having," the waiter asks on his return looking to Erik and then you. He reveals a bottle of wine with Gaja Ca Marcanda written on the label, pouring two glasses.

"Thank God it's not Hennessy," you think aloud watching Erik's brows knit in humor.

"I should've got you some Hennessy. That's right.... Y'all niggas got Hennessy?" The waiter shakes his head and you cringe.

"Erik, stop. Don't nobody like the taste of gasoline but you." You decide to just start pointing to whatever you think is good. "Tamarind glazed baby back ribs, pork belly pot stickers, szechuan Beef Filet Au Poivre, and the tempura shrimp and crab roll."

"I'll take the roasted free range half chicken and pot stickers sound good. I'll take those too." Erik hands over his menu and you glare at him as you fork your menu over but he's not looking. He would order less than you. Doesn't matter anyway.. you'll still crush that food when it comes. "You up for another round of tame that anxiety? If so, I have something I want you to do."

"Boy I'm drinking my wine, I'm not messing with you." You take a sip and set your glass back down ignoring him as he leans forward trying to catch your eye. "Mm-mm, nope.... Move," you swipe deterring his hand from trying to touch yours. None of that smooth shit.

"I'm right here what's gone happen? Besides, you know I know how to calm you down."

Heads Will Roll plays loudly over the theme park speakers as you speedwalk away hoping no one will recognize you or point you out to their friends and family as the running joke while you search for a ride that's BBW friendly and NOT the Skycoaster.

"Erik, move... Come on stop," you push at him when he stands in your way like it's a joke.

"Why you running? Ain't like you getting shot at. Ain't no one after you, look." He kisses his teeth as you pass him. "You so embarrassed.. You won't see any of these people again."

"Yeah well anxiety doesn't necessarily run on common sense." You grab your flip flops from his hand and slip them on. He'd had you walking around barefoot like a Flinstone because he'd been too slow to catch up. He didn't get it.

"Obviously.... Come this way," he nods walking left. He turns walking backwards as you peek around him to see the bathrooms in that direction. That's an idea you can get behind, a quick bathroom break to escape the faces of the crowd until you could return to rational thinking. Too bad it smells like eight tons of gorilla ass.

"This is the women's restroom," you freeze, blocking Erik's path inside. Man it stinks. You can't stay in there. His face twists getting a whiff and he backs off quickly holding the back of his hand to his nose, pulling you with him. So much for escaping into the bathroom. Suddenly he pulls you into a cut and you speedily look around for anyone who could be seeing the two of you. It doesn't seem that anyone's paying attention. You could've sworn someone would've been looking. There's a small space behind the bathrooms just wide enough for one and a half of one of you to fit through at a time. You're pushed in first and Erik towers behind you. It seems private like no one would or should be back here, a theme park blind spot. Suddenly you have the urge to bring this to the park owners' attention. They need security cameras too.

"I feel like someone's gotten molested back here.. or something dark and unsavory," you whisper.

"Anyway." His thick arm snakes around your waist while the other cradles your head against his solid chest, his fingers massaging your scalp through your afro. Clinging to his body, you let your shoulders drop. "Relax and when I say breathe I want you to inhale deeply through your nose for a count of four then exhale slowly through through your mouth for a count of five. The goal is to breathe deeply to your abdomen. Okay?

Now breathe.

In, 2, 3, 4... Out, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Again. In, 2, 3, 4... and out, 2, 3, 4, 5.

How do you feel," he whispers and you close your eyes, your ear against his chest listening to his even heartbeat and naturally husky voice.

"I understand anxiety, Y/N... the navy will definitely do it to you. But it's unhealthy stress that takes a toll on your mind and body and that means.. health is relaxing both."

Your eyes pop open looking at the wall beside you when the hand on the back of your head lowers drops moving to your thigh and crawling under your red kimono and up into your panties. He's got a surprise coming. His finger slides slowly along your outer lips slipping between.

"Always wet," he whispers before his thick finger sinks into you and on your sharp intake of air he tells you to breathe.

"In.. 2, 3, 4," he counts as your chest continues to rise. The slick feeling of his finger rotating and pressing inside of you is all you want to focus on. "Out, 2, 3, 4, 5," he directs and you feel a second finger push in, stretching slowly and gently finding its place.

"Did I say moan?" The arm around your waist goes ghost and you feel a firm smack on your butt.

"Did I SAY moan," he repeats, his fingers still working skillfully.

"No," you moan, your voice unexpectedly meek. Another firm smack comes and then another. And another, his low chuckle so subtle it's like you've imagined it.

"You still moaning. And you breathing hard. Did I tell you to do that?" Another smack comes and you're close.

"No, Daddy," you whine. His grip comes on your asscheek tightly.

"Then why I still hear you? We controlling our breathing right now.. Aht," he brushes your hand from his half-mast bulge. You had a theory he wouldn't be so calm and quiet if the tables were flipped. "I remember when you were scared to moan now I can't stop you," he muses.

"I wasn't scared."

"Yeah you were but I made you feel good didn't I? You still came. Breathe in, 2, 3, 4.. Out, 2, nope start over. You still breathing hard."

It's his motions. His thick curled fingers plus the addition of his thumb rubbing your clit is making your breathing ragged.

"Control it this time. In, 2, 3, 4.. Out.."

You gasp. The feeling is building in your stomach and you keep inhaling in the middle of the exhale.

"I'm coming," you whisper seconds away from erupting on his fingers.

"Not if you don't breathe. Do it right and you can cum."

You whine quietly unsure if you can control it.

"You can do it, angel. Breath deeply in, 2, 3, 4. Steady through your mouth, 2, 3, 4. Good girl, cum on my fingers. Go 'head cum."

You already have and for a second you get chills, trembling, but it subsides. He releases you and your dress falls back down as you look up at him, relaxed.

"You ready to go back out?"

Erik smirks across the table having successfully triggered your memory and you send him a glare that this time he can clearly see.

"Aight so what you gotta do is go to the middle of the floor next to that table with the bl--"

Bl--? Blonde? Blowfish? Black? What is he staring at? You start to look back too but he grabs your hand shaking his head in a way that shushes you and brings more questions.

"Get down," he mouths soundlessly scooting closer to the wall and lowering his head and then you hear it. A loud bang followed by a scream, the slam of dishes, and the scoot of chairs. Frantically, you search Erik's face for clues of what's happening and his dark eyes are trained on the scene behind you as he holds his head in a particular way so not to be seen. He points to you and the table and you don't waste time getting under it. There's only enough room for one person, but now you're at an angle to see him pull a small gun from inside of his blazer. There was a pocket for it in the lining. You see him cock the gun and then it rests in his hand in wait, pointed away from you. How did he get that through airport security though?! What the hell is going on? It doesn't make sense and a thousand thoughts rush you at once.

The screaming continues but you only counted three shots through all of the chaos and noise as people scurry to escape and evacuate.

Should the two of you be running? Aren't you sitting ducks? How did Erik even bring that gun? Or did he pick it up when he got to Houston? Was that why he left you at the hotel alone? Why did he think he'd it? Does he always have a gun just on him for no reason? Was he anticipating something like this? Is he just paranoid and then something actually happened to cement the paranoia like with you in college? Should you be concerned? Who the hell is shooting in a restaurant?! Guess it wouldn't be Texas without guns. Will you really be safe here? Will Erik? It feels like forever under the table as you're cramped and folded and you have severe goosebumps, your heart pumping fast, every sound an alert. You're suddenly reminded of your phone and you pray no one calls it. The crowd seems to be gone but there's still noise. Small sounds. Shuffling, footsteps, low grunts, and zips. It's only after you don't hear anything for about five seconds that you notice Erik's foot move.

Instantly, you grab it bending your head and putting a crook in your neck to look up at him through the gap between him and the table. You shake your head when you catch his eye.

"Don't you dare," you mouth. You can feel he's about to dash off to play hero and get himself killed so you hold his leg more tightly. Just because he has military experience doesn't make it his job to confront a shooter. You refuse to let him go even when he mouths the words 'let go'. With a grip on his leg, you listen as the low sounds of footsteps retreating finally stop. Erik who has the visual doesn't look away from where his eyes have been fixed until almost a minute has passed. This time when he moves, you let him go and he walks away toward the main dining area, looking around you assume before bursting into the kitchen. "They gone," he says. You have to strain to hear but then there're two more voices. When you peak out, there's Erik with two employees who look nervous. You grab your clutch and climb from under the table on your way to stand behind Erik.

"Are you guys okay," the southern woman asks looking around as if the shooters might return. The guy with her seems too shaken to speak outside of echoing the woman here and there. "I-I called the police they should be here any minute if you all wanna wait. There's coffee back here.. tea.." She looks past Erik to the floor and when you look and see the blood smeared there, you both look away from it simultaneously. "I just don't understand," she sighs looking genuinely perplexed. "Why bring that street beef or whatever it is in here? There are families that come here." She looks disgusted and Erik looks like he's really trying to get out of here.

"We're gonna take off. We were just hiding out waiting for the shooters to leave. Safe to say the night's been ruined," Erik replies grabbing your hand and guiding you to the door. The two of you decide to take the steps, that way you have more control in case anything happens. Luckily, you don't run into anyone. "Order the car to take us back to the hotel," he says before you leave the staircase. "Let's be safe and wait here just in case."

As the uber pulls off, you see the police rolling up but you guys are already on the road.

"You aight," he asks looking to you and when you think about it, you're safe and nothing happened to you thankfully. However... he made you worry! What was going through his mind to want to confront murderers?

"Erik, what were you thinking? You were really gonna play hero? Do you realize if I hadn't stopped you from jumping out there, you could be dead? Have you even considered what that would do to me?"

"I know I must've scared you. I'm sorry for that. You absolutely right, you saved me from making a big mistake tonight and I appreciate you for that."

---

He'd seen the entire scene play out from beginning to end and was gauging the ideal time to step in and shoot the colonizing muhfukas who'd ruined the goddamn evening. He knew this hadn't been a regular shooting. Nah, this was a hit and going by the appearance of the body they'd taken.. young black man, short locs, muscular build.. He had a feeling they'd taken out the wrong guy. It was only a matter of time before they realized and he had to act before then. If only he could've followed them, he'd be lit but he couldn't abandon Y/N.

Still, she was right. If she hadn't stopped him from stepping out, he'd have killed both colonizers and there would've been three bodies. She'd have then viewed him as a killer and outside of being scarred for life, she'd have left his lying ass forever and rightfully so. If she hadn't been there at all, he'd of popped the two employees as well leaving five bodies since they'd of seen him shoot the other two. Her presence was saving lives and ain't nobody know it.

Now that he had the element of surprise and a lead, it was the perfect time to strike but he couldn't fuck it up this time. Again, his pride was on the line and now that Y/N had almost gotten involved in the bullshit, it was definitely time to get her outta there asap.

"Whoever on security tonight, they ass definitely getting fired," he deadpanned in an attempt to lighten the mood. She wasn't having it.

"Don't ever scare me like that again. You're not the police and you're not the terminator," she stated so firmly he knew not to fuck with it. He just nodded.

"You absolutely right." The rest of the ride to the hotel was relatively quiet with her laying on his chest, his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp to calm her down. Walking through the lobby to the elevator was just as quiet until he broke the silence with a thought that'd been running though his mind since she'd scolded him. "You'd think you'd be the one to lose your composure, but it was me," he mused. "I ain't see that coming."

"I think I'm rubbing off on you," she chuckled wryly. He wanted to combat that thought, but when he really thought about it... she was. Ever since he'd gotten involved with her, he'd been crazier than usual, more prone to rookie mistakes, more emotion-driven instead of logic-driven. He barely recognized himself. This wasn't something that should happen at this juncture of his career or mission. He was fuckin up and if he continued to fuck up he wouldn't be the only one paying the price.

When they arrived in the room, he asked her to head back downstairs and buy them both food handing her a one hundred dollar bill and packing her bags in her absence. He figured take-out would be a bit of a wait time since it was dinner hours and he was right. By the time she got back, her return flight time had been changed and her bags were against the wall near the closet. She sat the plastic bag of plastic containers on the table and unpacked the items, dividing them up by which item belonged to who. She'd even brought bottled drinks. Pulling the utensils from the bag, she placed them on top of a container that held a bigass steak. He took it gently from her hand setting it on the bed next to him.

"I just got what I thought you might want," she shrugged unwrapping a straw to put in one of the drinks, handing it to him. That was when she happened to look left and see her bags packed on the wall. He stared at the bags, looking for his and not finding it before looking back to him, realization dawning on her. "We're going back tomorrow?" She was trying to keep the emotion from her voice but it had already flashed in her eyes.

"You're going back tomorrow," he clarified knowing full well she got it the first time. "But I'll follow you in a few days or so don't worry." Instant relief in her eyes, but then they got suspicious and he had to brace himself to dodge any verbal traps she'd try to set.

"I thought you were done with the responsibilities you came here for with your job. What did they even want you to do? You've been with me almost the whole time."

"It's been two days... I didn't have to report anywhere today so I dedicated it to us, but there are a couple of events I want to attend before I leave and it would be a waste if I didn't. You, however, have no more reason to be here and it seems to be getting dangerous in these streets. I want you back home for now."

"Dangerous? That was one coincident that had nothing to do with us. It's just as dangerous in Cali."

Somehow I doubt that.

"Naaah... Baby, I'd feel much better if you weren't in Houston after what I saw today. That's final. Flight's changed to 2 AM so after you eat you got a few hours to sleep and change.. bags are already packed. Go straight to my place when you get back and just wait for me. Use the car, pool, I don't give a fuck, but don't go to your apartment. I still need to check it out before you do."

"Okay, I know I'm paranoid... But you are PARANOID. Seriously? You're not coming?" She wasn't satisfied. She wanted her way, but he couldn't give it to her. "If Houston is as dangerous as you say it is then your well being is more important than some little event wouldn't you say so? So change your ticket too or we both staying here because I'm calling bullshit! What else is here? You already told me about your subs, what you got to hide?! What could possibly be keeping you here that you don't want me to see?! It gotta be wild since I've already seen you FUCK ANOTHER GIRL. WHAT IS IT ERIK?! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?"

He stared at her like she'd lost her damn mind and he was trying to figure out when she'd find it. She stared back before returning to the food on the table. When she turned back, she was calm.

"My bad. I just don't get why I gotta go," she shrugged. He blinked a few times at her quick change in demeanor and she sighed heavily.

"It's okay... You've been through a lot of emotions today..."

"Yeah but I shouldn't blow up on you. That's a YOU move. It's not like it's your fault, you just want me to be safe... I get it. I just think you should worry about yourself too."

"...I feel you," he nodded. He had to borrow a page from handling Shay and Jaliyah. "And I appreciate your concern, but Y/N you getting ya ass on that plane and that's an order."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered grabbing her container and plasticware. She sat in the chair at the table to eat and he stood to plant a kiss on her cheek before returning to the bed. He opened his own container and used the tall plastic straw sticking from the bottled lemonade to take a drink. She was too sweet for him to keep being so damn selfish. She definitely had to go.. for now.

---

A night flight alone to Cali. All there is to do, is sleep on the plane.

Erik had carried your things to the point where the two of you had to split, then he'd handed them over to you and nodded you on. It was all very quick and you were sleepy having gotten to the airport early just in case.

The sight through the window is black and there are lights on the ground but you don't really feel like looking, you're ready to close your eyes.

The little vacation with Erik was fun and so was seeing a completely different side of him, but now it was time to get back home. Well, his home...

Wait, he'd said. For the time being, you'll have to. The question to you now however, is for who? Who knows which Erik he'll be by the time he gets back. You can never tell with him. It's because he has more moods than a mood ring. More faces than Mr. Potato Head. For all you know, he could come back with a whole other woman expecting you to be cool with it. You just don't know what you'll get with him. Wait..

"Damn." You forgot to send the pictures of you and Erik to Ava and Toni. You didn't even get to see them again before you left. Kissing your teeth, you sigh and close your eyes again. You'll do it when you get to Erik's. Suddenly your eyes pop open and a smile spreads across your lips. You have his giant beautiful home all to yourself. You can use his things, smoke his weed, jump on his bed, wear his clothes, spray his cologne, eat his food, and explore as much as you want and he can't say a thing... Yes!

This might actually be the true vacation.

@muse-of-mbaku @imaginewhoever @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @blackpantherimagine   @vikkidc @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens   @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @drsunshine97 @purplehairgawdess @trevantesbrat @indigoxsummers @cccccx1   @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @fonville-designs @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent @blackpinup22

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

In My Mind x 02

*Reuploading because I've edited these to flow a little bit better. Thank you for your patience!

We cannot abandon the rabbit hole.

It lives within us.

---

His rich and raspy voice echoes in your ears like the one that has been stuck there for days.

...Had been

Where had he gone and why? How? How is he here physically? It doesn’t make any sense. And somehow you're still physically or mentally tied to him!

Maybe your brain is sending signals to the wrong places. Are you still dreaming somehow? This ordeal doesn’t seem plausible. He’d found you like he said he would which means that he is just as real as you are. Flesh and blood.

“Keep me," you squint, wet hands dripping water to the floor.

“Keep you,” he confirms with no hesitation. “Can you do this with other people?”

It’s not an innocent question and although his expression gives nothing away, you feel a dark motive behind it.

“This has never happened before. I don’t know how it started or why, but I won’t abuse it.”

A brief chuckle escapes him. “I could convince you.”

You hadn’t seen his face before, always seeing what he saw through his eyes, but looking at him today, you were sure he could. If not by sensual tactics then by terrorism and violence. You can feel Glenda and Lia’s ears on your conversation although they face away, fingers moving through client hair… like yours should be.

The water is still running in the shampoo bowl and his eyes are on you. Brushing him off, you finish washing his locs silently with a squeeze and release motion, conditioning for softness and once under the dryer he pulls out his phone, tapping away with both thumbs.

You sit in your chair, stealing glimpses. Anyone looking at him would think of him as a normal guy, maybe a model or a personal trainer. Maybe a young professor or a medical student. It’s true, you really can’t know a person’s story just by looking at them. He doesn’t wear the trauma. He has a quiet arrogance but also the wisdom to conceal it. Then again.. like most complicated people, there are layers. Dignity. Insecurity rooted in loss. Tenacity. Fleeting environments with faster fleeting people. Empathy. The ability to see monstrous souls hidden within human shells.

His phone lowers to his lap and his eyes fall closed. Suddenly everything around you swirls down into calm and quiet as you watch him, graceful and beautiful and still. His black lashes over hooded eyes. The clear brown of his skin reaching down in high definition. His cupid’s bow over thick trapezoid lips. The bountiful coarse hairs that coat his jaw and upper lip. You’re in limbo, balancing hazily between reality and fiction.

He opens his eyes and the shop’s background noise turns up again to full volume as your body jolts itself fully awake. His smug smile tells you that he’s aware of what’s happened. You were dazed and it seems the proximity between you only deepens the psychic connection. He’s now openly testing the parameters of this newfound ability.

You glance at Lia and catch her as she turns away. How you’d explain all of this to her or anyone else you did not know. You couldn’t find the words.

Escaping outside, the air is hot, not comforting or refreshing, just hot!

“Damn this summer heat.”

You breathe in and out repeatedly, staring up at the clear blue sky until your hands stop trembling.

“How am I supposed to help him? This is a lot to process and I'm so confused. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all this.. God. Show me what to do.”

You wait for a sign of some sort as a plane flys slowly overhead. All you see are cars driving by on the busy road straight ahead, past the half-empty lot as all manner of people walk in and out of the surrounding businesses. A latinx family with three kids crosses the parking lot to their car. None of that helps you.

Back inside, you pull Erik to start on retwisting his locks. Carefully palmrolling them with gel, you get them all laid and then you braid them all to the back and out of his face, per his request.

“Meet me at my place,” you mutter when you're done.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” he replies and then he’s gone.

It takes one pleading look to Lia for her to agree to braid your next customer. Four large goddess braids.

—

Your apartment is at the end of the hall and Erik’s tall, built frame is posted against the wall directly beside the door. He doesn’t bother with small talk and neither do you. Feeling his eyes, you fumble with your lock. He follows you inside and moves round the room, looking this way and that at this and that. He’s a curious guy. You don’t have many knick knacks, but your place is still colorful and cozy.

“Tell me somethin about you, Nia.” His wandering doesn’t cease.

“What do you want to know?” You follow him into your bedroom. There’s your bed, your window, your dresser and nightstand, a floor length mirror, and a random piece of wall art you bought to tie things together. It’s a good thing your place was clean.

He pulls open your closet, flipping through hangers and closes the door again.

“Where’s all the pictures, photo albums, stuffed animals from your childhood and shit like that? You seem the sentimental type to hang onto to it.”

“My albums and photos are on my phone. I do have a small velvet bear that I call Velvet. He’s at my dad’s house.”

“Where is your dad?”

“Atlanta.”

“With your mom?”

“Stepmom.”

“Where’s your other mom?”

“...We don’t know. She left shortly after I was born.”

“Who do you look like?”

“Uh.. my dad says I look a little like her and I see it a little bit based on the picture I have of her, but mostly I look like him.”

“Do you ever think of your mom?”

“Sometimes.. I used to think of her all the time when I was younger.”

“Are you happy?”

“Am I happy.. like in general?”

“With your life.”

“I guess.. I’m not complaining.”

He drops down on your bed looking to your pillow and then he adjusts himself down on his back getting comfortable.

“You gotta take your shoes off,” you say and when he doesn’t move you tug at his sneakers. Y-3’s. You decide against tossing them and drop them carefully to the floor instead. “Why can’t I hear you anymore?"

His eyes close and everything is silent. You turn away so not to look directly at him this time and it feels.. somewhat like it did when you were in his head. He’s present, but out of view.

“It was a test,” he blurts with lids still shut. “I slept, but I didn’t go into deep sleep or REM. REM is where we get our most vivid dreams so it makes sense that when I stopped deep sleeping, it stopped the dreams and it blocked you.”

“So basically you haven’t really been sleeping?”

Silence.

"You seem to know a lot about this so you should know better than I do how crucial deep sleep is to your brain functioning, self-repair, and immunity system. That's basic knowledge. You need a deep sleep, even if it gives you those dreams and me in your head.”

“You’re not the problem.”

That response is unexpected, but you ignore the flutter you feel from it for more pressing matters.

“You don’t want the dreams period, but it feels like you can’t stop them. How is it when you wake up?”

Silence again.

“Erik?”

He doesn’t stir.. and then he does.

“If you wanna know.. stick around,” he croaks slowly, half gone already. Then you know he’s completely out because that familiar pull is calling you to lay down. You fight it off, standing to buffer the temptation. A large glass of juice is in order.

For the next hour, you monitor him, watching as he falls deeper and deeper.

90 minutes in, the pull on you gets stronger. If you had ice water, you’d splash yourself, but you don’t want to move or miss a thing. His eyelids move rapidly and you know he’s passed a simple deep sleep. He mumbles something, but it sounds like a foreign language.

The journal. It was full of maps and symbols that looked like language and in the dream he was reading it... Whatever he's mumbling.. It must be linked to those symbols. His eyebrows furrow and the once peaceful expression is gone. His arm twitches, the muscles tensing and veins shifting. His hand balls into a tight fist and his leg moves. What kind of nightmare could he be reliving?

He jerks and thrashes and you wonder if you should wake him now, but then he stops. Sweat beads on his skin around his hairline and in a sheen on his face and neck. He looks afraid as he squeezes your blanket. It’s bad. You know it’s bad. You remember hearing that you shouldn’t shake someone awake who’s having a nightmare like this and you hope he wakes up soon. It takes a while, too long, but then he jolts awake bolting upright.

For the next few seconds, he just stares ahead, heaving and you remember how that feels. You fetch him a glass of water and bring it to his lips. You know his throat is tight because of what you’d experienced yourself. He's shaking. He has to get himself to realize where he is and that it was only a dream. A heavy tear rolls down his face followed by another and he squeezes his eyes shut, steeling himself.

Setting the glass on the nightstand, you break the boundary of personal space and hold him, staring over his shoulder to the art above your bed. He doesn’t lift his arms to close the embrace, but he doesn’t push you away either. He doesn't move, so you continue to hold him tightly for as long as he’ll allow.

You start to wonder if he’s cried himself back to sleep, but then his quiet voice rumbles in his chest.

“You gotta figure out.. how to help me..”

Taken aback, you don’t let go or loosen your hug, you listen. You wonder how you’re supposed to help him without a degree in psychology. How could you change his past? You couldn’t.

“And now that you’ve seen me like this...,” he clears his throat, “You know how important your role is..... SO NEVER LEAVE ME ALONE IN THAT AGAIN!”

You know his emotions are high, so you disregard the venom in his voice.

“Okay. If you dream, I’ll intervene. We’ll figure this out together.”

“How did you find me,” he asks with genuine interest but you’re just as curious to know the answer.

“I don’t know. You know this has never happened to me before. I only thought I was supposed to help you because that’s what this lady who prayed for me a couple days ago said."

"What lady? Let’s find her.”

He was right, maybe she had more wisdom or answers to bestow. Afterall, this was nothing short of a miracle. You call Glenda and by her clipped tone, you know someone pissed her off and to keep this brief.

“Glenda, it’s Nia. I need the name and contact of the woman you booked that prayed for me in the shop. You styled her after the blue fingerwaves. Church wristband, pretty, sweet face, professional-looking-”

“I don’t recall anything like that. I had to perm a lady, but she definitely wasn’t that.”

“What? You don’t remember a lady praying for me in the shop?”

Erik’s eyes narrow and Glenda’s tone switches to concerned.

“Nia, are you feeling okay? You’re really not acting like yourself and it’s starting to get a little scary.”

This is crazy, how does she not remember this woman?

“Well do you remember me styling a man today,” you test. She seems to remember Erik, just not the woman.

You hang up.

Other Chapters:

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Cheesy little one-shot.

------------

"STOP!" Nnena washed her hands watching chaos bounce around the spacious and upscale restroom. "Oh my God.. YOU GUYS.." She dried her hands as the three woman grabbed, tugged, and swung on each other like they weren't in a public establishment where anyone could walk in.

One girl was on the bathroom's floor blocking her face. A second girl had the Marley braiding hair from the first girl's bun in hand while slapping at the third girl who was wielding her stiletto as a weapon. "STOP THIS!... I SAID STOP!!" Nnena barked as her shrewd gaze passed judgmentally over the group of heavy breathing women. "You guys are acting like fools fist fighting each other over some MAN who was playing ALL of you." She'd started to stay in the stall and mind her own business but she'd heard the confrontation and their conversation, the 'who are you' 'the boy is mine' situation intensifying, their fighting words, the sound of a first hit and the following rain of hits where someone was going "bitch, bitch, bitch' after every hit. These were BLACK women going to war with each other over something stupid. Plus she was a waitress and she'd witnessed their man's clownery up close. He was a regular but the faces of his dates always changed. She'd watched him with his women. He always used the same lines every time and they'd swoon and be all over him, never to be seen again. Hearing these women fight amongst themselves like cats, she couldn't take it sitting down so she cleaned herself and she flushed.

Fast forward to the three huffing and puffing women staring at her work uniform and name badge as if she had no right to intervene or speak to them. "Look outside. No seriously, look at his table. He's supposed to be with one of you right now I assume?" She checked her watch. This man ran like clockwork. "Look out there. Really watch him."

They limped and shuffled to the door peaking out, having to move forward a bit more into the restaurant to see him. He was just sitting there waiting for the who'd been on the floor to return to the table. The women were getting impatient but Nnena pointed to another woman at a nearby table who was giving him bedroom eyes. She slid him a card and he turned it over, smiling, before sticking it in his pocket and giving her a wink. He put his hand to his ear like a phone and they didn't need to read lips to know that he'd call her although he was doing a good bit of talking.

"He's already picking up the next girl. He's not thinking about either of you. It's how some men are, only caring about their dick getting wet.. leading you on and making you think he cares just to get what he wants so he can leave and move on? You're a conquest to him! Look at yourselves fighting over a guy who probably doesn't remember either of your names."

Dignity kicked in and the women straightened themselves, avoiding eye contact with each other as they straightened and headed back into the bathroom to fix themselves in the mirror. "He definitely remembers my name, we work together," Slappy said, reapplying her nude lipstick.

"And? I've worked with him too just not through the same company," Stiletto added slipping the shoe back onto her foot. "This is stupid. Keeping up with you two on my man is already irritating and I'm supposed to watch that thot out there too?"

"I didn't even know you two existed. He said he was unattached," Floor girl said unsurely.

Stiletto rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Of course he did," she laughed angrily. "I'm an idiot." Shaking her head she did a double take at the gold ring that sat on a chain dangling from Slappy's neck. "Did he give that to you?" She looked as if she'd been stung.. deeply.

"Yeah, it belonged to his father. He wanted me to have it to prove he was serious," Slappy smiled, smug until Stiletto girl revealed the exact same ring and chain around her neck. Following suit, Floor girl revealed hers from her purse.

The same story and the same necklace had been fed to all three. They stood staring at each other with new eyes.

"I'm gonna kill him," Stilleto whispered, dazed.

"He gotta die for this," Slappy whispered wide-eyed. They were still in shock.

Floor girl finally spoke up, her hair returned to a pristine textured bun. "Erik Stevens... MUST DIE."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Nnena waved in attempt to diffuse the situation. "Murder? That's excessive. Revenge however...."

The women's dark grins showed that the wheels were turning. They looked at each other eye to eye before turning their mutual attention to Nnena who froze wondering what exactly she'd roped herself into.

One Week Later

"When I suggested you guys give him a taste of his own medicine? I didn't mean I was volunteering to help," Nnena mumbled. She was in a sharp bright red dress with a matching blazer and stilettos. Her juiced up bantu knot-out made her long curls hang over the ear where her earpiece hid. The other side of her hair was pinned artfully behind her ear, a diamond stud shining. Stiletto's clothes. The women had dressed her and bugged her with a device which allowed them to hear and see what she did and they were able to speak to her through it. That was twenty minutes ago in Slappy's office. She'd found out then that Stiletto's actual name was Rankita. Floor girl was Rose. Slappy was Vanessa.

"You're in it now and you're getting paid $300 so suck it up and act expensive," Rankita fussed with Vanessa in the background mumbling about Erik being down the hall. Vanessa worked with Erik afterall and Nnena was in their building, now planted in the hall where she was instructed to wait while they all looked on. Act expensive?

"When that door opens, you are smarter and tougher and all around better than him. You say exactly what I tell you and nothing else," Rankita says. "Chin high, don't fidget. Call Rose's phone and pretend to talk on the-"

"The door's opening," Nnena whispers putting the phone to her ear and walking as if she'd just turned down the hall. As if she weren't just standing there dawdling.

"I said I wanted Lashawn on the marketing campaign not Megan. Fix it," Nnena said over the phone line, repeating Rankita's words in her ear. She strutted like she owned the place. She felt Erik's eyes on her and kept walking.

"That boy loves black people in charge so I bet that piqued his interest," Rose giggled.

"Of course it did. How do you think I pulled him," Rankita asked. "Okay now hang up like you irritated."

As Nnena hung up with Rankita still in her ear directing her, she rolled her eyes and finally turned to find Erik staring at her carefully. "Hi, can I help you?"

"I had the same question. This is my office," Erik smiled gesturing to his door. She was standing adjacent to it.

"So it is," she nodded with a glance at the door. Rankita's voice hissed at her to turn around and keep walking. She did and got a few steps away before Erik yelled out.

"Hey," he called, "Um.. who are you here for? If I may ask."

"Dolly Masters!.. Say Dolly Masters!" Rankita was frantic.

"Dolly Masters."

"Oh.. damn, she's not here today. She actually left because she had an emergency.. Sorry you made the trip here, but maybe I could help you? I know a lil something something about what she do," he smiled warmly and if she didn't know he was a womanizer she'd have easily fell into the trap of his dimples and pretty eyes. Fortunately, she knew his game and what he wanted.

Surprisingly he got straight to business and Nnena had to keep up with that Rankita fed her to say, making the pauses seem as natural as possible. She understood only 3/4 of what she was talking about. Rankita was a genius. How could this man screw that up, she wondered. The conversation went on. He started printing shit she didn't really need, estimates. She was feeling awkward. Especially when he kept looking at her with his penetrative gaze. "You have beautiful eyes," he said as if discussing the weather. For some reason Nnena's heart beat harder and faster. "You okay," he inquired with another dazzling grin.

Rankita's voice snapped her from her heated gaze. "I'm excellent, but I do need to head to lunch so this is where I say my goodbyes."

Erik jumped up so fast his pen fell in the floor. "You mind company? Lunch on me."

"No I've imposed on you enough," Nnena stood with an Hermes bag.

"Please.. let me take you out. I WANT to," Erik pressed before grabbing his suit jacket, wallet, and keys.

Vanessa took over the mic from Rankita as the women prepped to beat Nnena and Erik to the next location. "Tell him there's a place nearby called Vudu that you've been aching to try and meet us there."

---

As they ate, Nnena flirted her ass off with double entendres that she pretended not to realize could be taken as sexual. Erik's eyes seemed to never leave her face and body. It made her extremely anxious but she was not allowed to show it. She didn't have the time to show it, Vanessa's orders were so extremely specific. 'Touch your lips.. Touch your hair.. Blink at him.. Smile.. not too much! Talk sexier. Smize. Lick your lips. Bend over.' On and on, these directions went. She felt like a porn star.

"Look at him. He wants to tear you apart like a wildcat right now, I know that look. He wants you bad. You've got him in your hand now bring it home. Accidentally call him daddy," Vanessa said.

Nnena's eyes went big before she controlled her face. "You okay, Nnena," Erik asked, eyes so focused on her she wondered if he could see through her.

"Yeah," she coughed pretending to be strangled by her drink. He bought it.

"You sure," he stood and moved beside her in her side of the booth to pat her back.

"Yes daddy.. I mean ERIK," she rushed avoiding his eye as his hand on her back froze. When she looked up, his eyes had darkened. That word stirred something in him and Nnena felt herself getting hot. Her thighs pressed together and she slid away. He slid closer, putting his hand in her lap.

"I can BE daddy," he whispered causing her to shiver.

"Control yourself," Vanessa hissed. Nnena moved Erik's hand and pushed him from her booth gesturing for him to return to his. Based on his expression, that was only the beginning. He knew what he wanted and was hellbent on getting it. "Make him take you out a few more times. Wait until you get the necklace!"

Two Months Later

There was a second date, a third, fifth, eighth, sixteenth. Nnena was making bank from the girls and Erik was basically up her ass meanwhile she'd only kissed him three times. He always wanted more, but she never gave it. For one, the girls would kill her. For two, if she even kissed him for too long her brain got foggy. She understood exactly how all of the women before her got caught up.

"You know I haven't seen him approach any women since we've been doing this? He's gotta be the biggest whore I've ever met based on my research into him and suddenly he's celibate?" Rankita shook her head in disbelief.

"I can't believe it's been two months. He was with me for two weeks," Vanessa added.

"Same," Rankita nodded.

"One week," Rose said shyly. Her time had been cut short. Erik had never called her back after she didn't return to the dinner table at the restaurant. She was lowkey crushed.

"Take him to the butterfly museum," Rose recovered enough to say. The entire group was in Florida just because they could be. It was a quick little vacay and Nnena enjoyed her free trip as she pretended to be a wealthy woman taking her wealthy man on a day date. Erik was all smiles.

"How'd you know I like butterflies," Erik whispered, awed. Vanessa and Rankita looked to Rose whose eyes were watery.

"I loved him," she whimpered, tears falling in explanation of how she knew this about him. Vanessa and Rankita both comforted her while Nnena walked with Erik enjoying the date. At this point Rose was unable to speak so Nnena was left to be herself and AS herself, she had a ball.. surrounded by butterflies and Erik.

---

"Nnena," Erik spoke gently pulling out a jewelry box. It looked like it could be a necklace. They were on a day cruise now that Erik took her on after the museum and he was mildly tipsy. All day he'd been grinning and laughing and trying to pick her up. He was adorable and every time Nnena caught herself just as happy as him.. she had to check herself and remember that it wasn't real.. which was hard... because it felt so real. "Nnena, we been seeing each other for two months and I never been with anyone like this. I ain't never had nobody make me this happy. You are perfect for me. I never thought love existed until I met you." Her ears perked at the word 'love' as did the three women's. He'd never, ever, EVER used that word flat out before. "I've done a lot of shit in my past and hurt a lot of people. I don't deserve you honestly, I don't. But if you'll stick around, I promise I'll never hurt you."

He opened the jewelry box and there was a golden necklace but it had no ring. The chain was different. At the end of it was a diamond pendant in a heart shape. He told no sad story. Nnena was shook. The three women were shook.

"Do it now. Dump him!! Tell him you're not interested in him," Vanessa urged. Nnena's heart wanted to break. She didn't want to, but she shut off her emotions. The three women approached and stood behind Erik with their arms crossed.

"Awe, fell in love did we," Rankita teased sitting by Nnena to stare at Erik with an evil smile. The surprise on his face was everything to her. He truly didn't understand.

Vanessa stood before Erik with a wave of her fingers. "Too bad she played you. And you know what? You deserved it! I hope you feel all of what you made us feel. You ruined our damned lives and I for one am sick of you. I hope you DO cry," she grinned, highly amused. Erik's eyes went to Nnena's sad eyes. He didn't want to believe it.

"...Is this true," he asked and Nnena could hear his heart shatter. She nodded, unable to speak.

Rose approached, also somber. "You would have never learned your lesson or how much what you do hurts if we hadn't done this. You'd still be leaving trails of damaged women. Nnena is an actor. We had to show you what it feels like. Maybe this will be your wake up call.."

Tears rolled down Erik's face and he stood. For a moment he was wordless, just staring at the water with nowhere to truly escape. Rankita grinned watching his pain, taking a sip of Nnena's drink. "You're right," he finally said bringing confusion to the women. "You're absolutely right... I had no idea how much I was hurting you all... I knew I was an asshole who hurt people.. but I never knew it could hurt this bad..." He held his gut as if he were in pain. Like he'd been stabbed or shot.

"Damn," he whispered shakily. Suddenly Rankita's grin faltered. She'd wanted him to get mad. Jump, yell, cuss, rave! Somehow, this wasn't as fun to watch. He was truly broken.

"I'm truly sorry," he said again looking Rankita in the eye. She nodded, genuinely accepting his apology and he looked at Vanessa.. apologizing from his heart. She wasn't smiling anymore either. Rose was the one he had to really apologize to. Her feelings matched his the most. He apologized to her from his soul and she sniffed, her own tears running as she forgave him.

Nnena wanted to rip her own heart from her chest. She tried to return to Erik the necklace, but he shook his head folding it in her palm. "Keep it," he nodded. He couldn't even look at her. He walked away disappearing and no one went after him. Getting off the boat, no one saw him exit.

They were suddenly worried about him and what he might do to himself. He'd fallen pretty hard for Nnena just to have his heart smashed suddenly. Nnena called but he didn't answer. There was nothing they could do now.

One Week Later

Nnena went back to her job with the three women consistently checking in with her. Erik had not returned to work and Vanessa was worried. He was a workaholic and this wasn't like him. Nnena tried his number again, fear making her think the worse. No pick-up. She blocked her number and tried. Nothing. She left messages and voicemails. Still nothing.

Days passed and then weeks.

No one had heard from him. Nnena regretted ever getting involved with that revenge scheme. Broken hearts could be moved on from, but suicide was permanent. She couldn't help but blame herself and the worst part was that she genuinely liked him. She liked him!!! She couldn't get over it. It ate at her.

Regret.

Days would go by and she'd be in a haze, dazed out while working on autopilot taking customer's orders with an empty smile. She didn't even notice the customer she spoke to on a particular day as he stared at her after she'd taken his order. She was looking dead at him, but didn't see until he said her name and suddenly she focused. He'd cut his hair. His locs were gone, but those dimples were the same. "Hey," he smiled hesitantly.

"WHERE WERE YOU," Nnena snapped angrily. He licked his lips, tapping the table.

"Therapy," he said simply, "...in Africa."

She looked him over. He looked well and she was grateful. She was relieved. Very relieved. She realized she'd never told him she was a waitress. As far as he was concerned, she was rich. "How did you find me," she squinted.

"Rankita," he stated with even eye contact. Before Nnena could get angry, he continued. "I stopped to talk to her, Vanessa, and Rose before coming here." Nnena nodded, understanding. He was letting them know one by one that he was okay.

She gave a small smile, "I'm glad you're alive... I'll- I'll put your order in."

She turned and he grabbed her wrist, gently, causing her to turn back to him. "There IS something else," he blinked, "I know it was a revenge plan and you were playing me and all that. I deserved it. But I never felt anything like that before. I was hoping maybe we could start over? That is if you're willing to trust me.."

Start over? Nnena had to think about it. It was a unique situation. That answer seemed to satisfy him. She went to the kitchen to put in his food order and she made a call to Vanessa.

"Which one of you psycho bitches told Erik I had feelings?"

"That would be me," Vanessa sang. "Well it's true isn't it? We're not dumb and we're not so cruel as to deter you if that's what you wanna do. We just hope he's really changed. It seems like he has."

Nnena peeped onto the floor to see Erik fiddling in the booth. "Is it- Is it really okay? I understand if it's-"

"Go for it," Vanessa said hanging up.

With a big sigh, Nnena walked slowly back to Erik's booth. He looked up and she nodded, extending her hand.

"Hi... My name is Nnena. Nnena Odigwe. I work here and... I'm not rich nor do I own a business. You are?"

"Hello, Nnena. You have beautiful eyes." He smiled when she rolled her eyes. "My name is Erik Stevens."

"Erik Stevens," Nnena smiled, "It's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine."

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