8 . b - d - e

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"I'm not even sure when because you know you can't rely on your father to give you a proper date and time, but soon enough we will come visit."

Funny, they've been singing the same song for more than a year. I don't know if it's to make me feel better or to scare me into focusing on my uni work. Either way, it doesn't work. Having their presence doesn't make me feel better (okay, it does sometimes but I dislike hearing them complain about my schooling efforts and lifestyle — or lack thereof), and them scaring me into working doesn't exactly... work.

"Hmm, yes mama." I sigh over the counter, staring ahead at the mini balcony. "Anytime works, as always."

"It doesn't sound like you want us to come."

I don't, truthfully. "No, I do. I just think when and if you come, you should let me know also, so I'm actually at home and not on campus."

"You're not on campus on the weekends." I can literally see her deadpan — possibly at herself in the mirror. One thing about her; she always is looking into some mirror or reflection at herself, because my mum is self-centered a lot of the time.

Which could be ironic since she literally babies me and I dislike it with my whole chest.

"I'm not, but sometimes I'm studying at the library. Like now, ma. I actually have work on some assignments, you know? Maybe we can call later?"

After throwing a few more words my way, she decides to hang up (this is after she makes kissing sounds over the line, at me). I stand up straight from leaning over the counter and then round it to head to my room, just as Amber exits her own room with her phone clutched between both hands.

"You leaving?"

"I'll be back just now, literally in five minutes." She smiles before patting my shoulder. "Just going down the hall."

Oh. She's probably going to get laid. Down the hall usually means getting laid, at least in her vocabulary.

I smile and nod. "Okay. Be safe." And I mean it in both ways.

I enter my room and literally throw myself on my bed. The groan, the one that's been sitting at the back of my throat, escapes me loudly. My eyes remain closed, face in my pillow and partially being restricted from air doesn't make me lift my head up to breathe properly.

The sound of a clearing of throat does.

At first, I slowly lift my head and turn my head towards my door, and when I see the tall figure by my door frame moving in, I lift my head more and shift the curtain of short braids from my face to look properly.

I cannot contain my surprise when he walks into my room with a Burger King paper bag in one hand and a bottled drink in the other. His foot kicks my bedroom door closed, and I should scowl at him for doing so but I'm more focused on what he's doing here.

With food. Is he about to bribe me?

My heart thumps from the memory of the last time I saw him, a couple of days ago. I even distaste the butterflies flying in my gut without permission as I cautiously sit up properly.

He places the bag and drink carefully on my study table before standing straight with arms folded and looking at me. I lift my eyes to his, watching him look at my body momentarily with quite a bitter expression and lips pressed to a firm line.

Or at least they attempt to, considering his lips are not pencil thin.

I lift my hand and motion at the items. "What's all this?"

He takes his sweet time to answer as his eyes scan my room from corner to corner with arms folded. I can't even help but eye his body, and how that black long sleeve is doing no one a favour with his grey joggers. Even his hair is all wild and untamed but why does it work? Is he seducing me?

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