His Emancipator🖤 [His Duet #1]

CHAPTER TWELVE

A buzzing sound jerks me awake from the disturbing nightmare. I rub my eyes before checking my phone.

Darelle: Morning. Can I come over?

Me: Yeah sure but make it an hour from now.

I sit up on the edge of the bed. My mind drifts back to the nightmare. Mama's limp body lying on that hospital bed. The horror of watching her knowing she'll soon breathe her last and there's nothing I could do.

As Friday approaches, the nightmares keep getting vivid. Today it felt like I was in that hospital room. It felt like if I tried hard enough, I'd touch her cold body. God knows I'd do anything to touch her. Even if it's in a nightmare.

An hour later, I'm opening the door for Darelle. I take in the sight of him in black slacks and white button down. It should be a crime to look this handsome.

"Hey." My knees almost buckle when he brings me into a hug. The hug is quick but it doesn't stop my body from becoming a clusterfuck of butterflies.

"Come in." I sidestep to give him space for entry.

"I brought you something." He lifts a bag towards me. "Now you don't have to reserve it for special occasions."

I check the contents of the bag and fake gasp. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?" He bought me food and not just any food. A shawarma. How am I supposed to get over him when he buys me food?

He permits himself a broad smile that brings crinkles around his eyes. "You should really smile more." I encourage as we settle on the couch.

He mockingly touches his chest. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?" He throws my words back at me. I like this playful, laid back Darelle.

I chuckle. "Thanks for this though. You certainly know the way to my heart." Yeah I'm that girl who'll fall in love with you because of food. Sue me.

"Well if I'm going to be a frequent visitor it's only fair I come bearing gifts."

"Then I'll be looking forward to your frequent visits."

The shawarma unleashes magic on my tongue. The combination of the chicken and pita bread makes my taste buds dance.

I'm too engrossed in devouring the shawarma that I almost choke when Darelle lifts his thumb to wipe the sauce sliding from the corner of my mouth. It's only a swift quick brush but it's one that leaves my body warm and fuzzy.

I avert my eyes as heat channels my cheeks like a wildfire. His lips quirk up, knowingly. "Any updates?" I'm glad he doesn't call me out on my blushing.

I push to my feet. "Give me a minute to get my laptop."

I'm surprised when I walk back to find Darelle is now occupying the piano bench. I choose not to announce my presence as he moves to play a slow version of Mad World by Gary Jules. He plays like he owns the song, like the lyrics were engraved in his fingers and he's just a vessel to tbd them.