Ethically Speaking

4.2

•- Quincie Jackson -•

When Elijah and I returned to our apartment building I decided to accompany him to his apartment.

He holds my hand tightly as we take the last flight of stairs. We're talking about something off-handed and barely important, but it's still these small moments with him—the in-between moments—that make me love him even more.

We come to a stop in front of his door and he turns to me with the sort of sheepish smile I've come to learn usually means he has something up his sleeve.

"I'd like to invite you inside, Quincie. But under the pretense that I need but a moment to sort out my apartment."

I tilt my head to the side in a show of confusion. I've been inside his apartment plenty of times with papers all askew and dog toys scattered across the floor and he hasn't worried about it before.

"You know I don't mind the mess, Elijah." I give his hand a gentle squeeze to show the truth to my words.

I'm sure I'd draw the line somewhere, but quite frankly I haven't a care if his apartment floor was covered in papers.

His smile widens before he presses a lingering kiss to my forehead.

"Trust me?"

I nod immediately because I couldn't think of anyone I could trust more.

He pulls away and turns his key in the lock of his apartment. He sneaks through in a way that was not short of suspicious but I give him my full trust and so I don't question it.

I can hear him rustling around inside for a few moments as I wait rather impatiently for him to come get me.

A couple of minutes pass before he's pulling open his door just enough for me to see his head sticking out of the threshold.

"Ready?" He asks with the biggest smile I've ever seen.

I nod my head and he extends his hand to me.

As we pass through the door I'm at a complete loss for words.

I was expecting his usual clutter. Ungraded papers and mugs of coffee leaving rings on the coffee table and counters. Instead, the floor is littered with flickering tea light candles—the battery-operated kind—and rose petals.

I look up at him and his cheeks are almost as red as the rose petals.

"I suspected tonight's events would leave a sour taste in your mouth. I supposed a romantic gesture just might make your night a little better."

I follow the trail of lights and petals to his bed with his hand still interlocked with mine.

"You didn't have to do all of this, Elijah."

I turn to him with a wide and elated smile.

"I know, love. But I wanted to."

His arms securely wrap around my waist as he pulls me flush against him.

I glance around his apartment for a moment before I meet his eyes.