𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 #25

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Narnia hiccuped, tears painted her brown-skinned cheeks.

Her hands shook as she hurriedly dialed Dave's number.

Her eyes scanned throughout the streets as she placed the phone towards her ear.

Yooo.

Dave.

Narnia? Yeah, wassup? I'm about to get on the jet now. Why do you sound like that?

Help.

ONE 𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗞 𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗥

Why are you coming here?

Narnia finally asked her question, the morning after Dave announced he was going to Chicago to see her.

Girl, I just told yo ole pluff fish head, why.

But, I wanna know whyy.

Dave laughed.

What you on girl? Wassgood shawty?

My face, wassup witchu?

This-

Ding-a-ling.. Ding-a-ling! .. Ding-a-ling!

Dave's front door bell rung.

He glanced back at his door, in confusion - he didn't expect anyone to come knocking at his door.

Aye, hold on right quick, Ma.

Probably one of his day hoes.

Narnia mumbled as she picked at her fingernails.

If you don't shut yo jaw, lil girl. If that was the case, you would be the only one ringing that bell now.

I ain't yo day or night hoe, jit.

Got a thingg on my hoe. Keep that thing with my hoee.

Man, I swingg with my hoee.

Narnia rolled her eyes, with a slight smile  before joining in.

Who are youu? Not my bro. Not my brooo, he my hoeee.

Dave shook his head with a chuckle, as he grabbed his .19 and loaded his clip.

His eyebrows furrowed, as he jogged downstairs, placing the gun in his belt holster.

"Who is it?" he shouted, and waited for an answer.

"Da-dave!" He heard a familiar voice but it sounded gurgled.

He tilted his head, "Tysheem?"

Dave grabbed his front door and swung it open, his glock pointed directly in front of him.

Revealed behind the door revealed Tysheem and Dave's father. Dave quickly placed his gun down.

𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 // dave.eastWhere stories live. Discover now