Saving Neba

𝐗𝐗𝐗: Be my girlfriend

"She could be asleep though. Do you want to tell me what transpired between the both of you?" King asked as we made it up the stairs.

How could I tell him when he was the centre of precisely everything that had been going on between Kimberly and me from the very first day she had been convinced that King and I were officially allies?

He smiled when we were at his door and I still hadn't responded. "I'm guessing, no?" He opened his door and stepped in.

I shook my head. Kimberly's door was just opposite King's. I had been here once. The first time Kimberly and I had a very serious conversation.

King's room was different from everything I had expected it to be. A one-man bed between two vertical shelves filled with textbooks, jars, bowls and a box. Connecting both shelves was a plane on which rested awards from every basketball competition he'd gone and won.

Opposite the bed were two beam bags in the middle of a large space and in front of those blue soft balls was a large TV, a stack of disks and a theatre. A joystick was lying beside a beam bag, alongside a half-filled open bottle of Coke, remote control and a dumbbell.

None of all those dim lights and intricate aura mattered to me as much as the bed. It was occupied by textbooks and a basketball, but no Kimberly. By the time I absorbed that, I heard the door latch close.

"Kingsley."

"Emerald."

"You said—"

My right hand was held and I was made to spin. King caged my waist and pulled me to him so tightly our bodies were touching. "We need to talk, Emery."

"Listen, King—"

"No, Emery. You're trying to do it again." He sucked in a breath. "You kissed me!"

"You were fantasizing about me."

"Exactly. We've got things to talk about and I so appreciate it if you stop acting naive and spit words out."

I guess that did it. Sure, I could be stupid at times or irrational. But this was one adjective that didn't fit well with me. I was anything but naive. Naive meant inexperienced.

"I'm not! You don't know anything about me or what I've been through." I pushed him away, or I tried to; King was adamant about not letting me go. "You're King! With a rich. . .You know nothing about me.

My sight was blurred by tears and I felt so embarrassed I wanted to covey face and run out of this building that screamed affluence. His firm holds never faltered. Rather, he walked forward until my legs hit a plastic object. It was the under-the-bed storage bin at the foot of his bed.

"Emery, I. . .No, you're not naive. I'm sorry." He brushed a lock of hair away.

He trailed his fingers down my face. "You're a beautiful girl."  His fingers were way past my neck now, making their way to my shoulder bone. I focused my entire being on his lips as they moved ever so softly. His eyes were focused on the movement of his hands and, by inference, my body.

"You remind me of coffee. Whenever you pass by me or bump into me, I just want to bury my face in your neck and. . ." He buried his face in my neck. His unregulated breathing sent shoots of waves down my spine and then he sucked in a breath. "And breathe you in."

My hands, on their own accord, made their way to King's chest. "I'm sorry I lied to you. Kim's still at the hospital though she's recovering. My parents had just come back from work and have gone to see her."

I didn't realize how far King's hands were until I felt a finger caressing the area around my navel. Oh, no! He moved along horizontally until his thumb reached my side. I shifted unconsciously. "King."