Mama's Boy

♊07♌

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After a restless night of tossing and turning, Knox sat in his parked car, located in front of a bus stop. He'd already dropped Koco off at her school but wasn't ready to go to work just yet.

He had his sketchbook posted up against the driving wheel as he moved a pencil expertly across a blank off-white page. Did he know what he was drawing? No. But in his opinion, improvisation was one of the best things an artist could do. He believed that improvising led to creativity, which led to...something beautiful. So, he just let his right hand lead the way.

The digital clock in his car told him that it was half past seven in the morning. While drawing, he wondered if Aiden was even out of bed yet.

Why was he making a habit out of picking her up anyway? He didn't have to, and she'd never asked him to, so why was he still here?

"Maybe I really am stalkin' her..." he mused aloud before laughing when the words settled into the air.

He sat in silence for awhile as he concentrated on whatever he was drawing. Then, his thoughts wandered to Aiden again. It was pretty weird thinking of a girl as often as he was her. And rare too. He usually only thought about girls he wanted to fuck, had fucked, or was going to fuck, and the thoughts were almost always sexual.

With Aiden...it was her hair; or her eminent blue eyes; or her lips-which she licked constantly even though she carried a thick ass tube of lip balm in her bag; or her overall personality. He'd never been so strongly attracted- and he would finally admit that he was indeed attracted to her (why wouldn't he be?)- to someone so soon.

But there was something about her that he enjoyed. She reminded him of his old friend, Demarcus. Like Aiden, Demarcus was pretentious, a little vain and domineering, but also ambitious and encouraging. Dee, as Knox had called him, had been Knox's go-to person whenever Knox wanted to take a risk and try something new because Dee would support his decisions. Knox needed someone like Demarcus around him because he constantly needed encouragement. So, in a way, Aiden was his new Demarcus, except she was female and white.

And he'd never thought of kissing Demarcus before.

Knox shook his head and closed his sketchbook, tossing it in the passenger seat. He hadn't finished his drawing but he would later. At the moment, he just wanted to rest his eyes and listen to the soft music playing from the radio.

He had intended to relax but ended up falling asleep. This time his dream was filled with all kinds of faces but no Loretta. In one scene he was playing ball with his friends, in another he was at school, eyeing his substitute teacher as she leaned over a desk to help a student with his worksheet. He was in his room playing with Koco, at the store buying pistachios, and at the local basketball court. The setting kept changing until finally he was standing alone in what he realized was the actual gallery located in the agency. It was empty, devoid of any art pieces and the lights were dimmed. The click of heels had him turning his head. He spotted a flash of blonde hair as the person turned to walk up to stairs to the second floor of the gallery.

He followed, his steps seemingly slow, until he was on the second floor. The person was standing in front of a painting, the only one hanging up. He could tell that the person, a girl, was naked but for some reason he couldn't really see her body because his eyes were transfixed on her hair. He couldn't move them even if he wanted to.

There was a light shining right above her that made her blonde hair look golden. Before realizing how or when he'd gotten so close to her, he reached out a hand to touch it. At that moment her head turned, just a bit to the left, and he paused. And then she was turning to face him completely. At the sight of him, her pink lips spread into a smile and her blue eyes sparkled, each reaction taking away the little breath he'd had. She noticed his hand, still reaching out towards her, and raised an eyebrow-a signature move of hers, even in his dreams. She stepped towards him, let him bury his hand in the soft tresses. He caressed her scalp, making her purr like a kitten. As her head moved back and her eyes closed, he kept his eyes on her parted lips.