Prince's POV
"Y'all ready to go?" Genevieve asks knocking on the door.
"No, but I need your help." I walk over opening the door. She grins evilly seeing me dressed from the waist down. "Don't get too excited. A button fell off my shirt can you see it back on?"
"Alright, go get my sewing kit."
"I already have it. It's in my suitcase in the big pocket." I put my shirt on the bed and sit in the chair while she digs through my bag. A smirk forms on my lips as she pulls out the small box I hid for her. She doesn't think anything about it and continues searching for the sewing kit. When she finds it, she grabs my shirt and sits on the floor, to start sewing.
"Give me the button." I walk over placing the button in her hand. I return to my seat in disbelief. She really didn't notice the jewelry box? Andre walks in and heads my way with a smirk.
"What she say?" He whispers handing me a candy bar from the vending machine.
"She didn't notice." I say just loud enough for her to hear.
"How're you going to get her to notice?" He says matching my volume and tapping my shoulder.
"I'm not sure." I smirk.
"What am I supposed to be noticing?"
"The gift that I hid in plain sight!"
"What gift?"
"You didn't see the jewelry box?"
"I did." She says looking up and tearing the thread with her teeth.
"You didn't open it."
"You didn't tell me I could. Unlike you, I don't just open things that don't belong to me."
"You can't prove that."
"You read my notebook all the time!"
"If you didn't leave it out all the time I wouldn't read it!"
"If you would wait for me to finish my work I would just show you!"
"I thought your notebook was for like...when you're having one of your moments." Andre asks sitting his bed.
"I have two notebooks. One for those and one for all of my creative stuff."
"Songs, clothing sketches...poems." I smirk looking across the room at her.
"You write poetry?"
"Yea." She shrugs as she looks at the newly attached button.
"You don't seem phased by anything you do." Andre chuckles.
"For a lot of people these are creative outlets but for me they were tools I needed to survive. I communicated to my family in poetry early on. I sew my own clothes because shopping in America is hard for me. I dance because it gives me something to do with all the energy I feel."
"What would happen if you stopped dancing? Like you couldn't dance anymore."
"She lays in bed and stops eating, drinking, and sleeping."
"It gets you down like that?"
"It's debilitating. If I try to make a decision or think through something and I'm not moving I get stuck." She bites through the thread again before stand up and examining the shirt and handing it to me.
"I get that. I'd be lost without my bass. Explain the sewing thing again."
"I'm five feet tall with a 35 inch bust, a 25 inch waist, and 42 inch hips. You think I can fight clothes off the rack?"
YOU ARE READING
Motivation of Memories: The Second Book of the Labors of Love Series
FanfictionAfter the death of her grandmother Genevieve Elise Anne Bonsu is finally moving out of her parents home. Growing weary of working in the family restaurant and being haunted by the memory of grandmother she finds herself in Minnesota, of all places...
