An unlikely pair, Sybil & Syre find themselves being pulled toward the other by an undeniable force. They both have decided that they hate each other but over time that "hate" turns into something else all together.
As it turns out, these two wound...
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"Pick up, damn!" I growled into the phone. Standing in the parking garage frustrated as fuck, while I prayed Syre answered the phone.
Here I was stuck in the parking lot. I had tried everything under the sun, but my car wouldn't start.
Please God, don't take my baby from me.
Hearing the line pick up, it was immediately followed by him cussing me out.
"Yo, why the fuck you calling me so early for?" His raspy voice distracted me for a second and I almost lost my thoughts.
Sounding like a slut...
"My car won't start! Come help me!"
"I look like a mechanic bro?"
"Syre!" I whined.
I heard him groan, and shuffling on his end of the line. I assumed and hoped he was getting out of bed.
"The fuck do you want me to do?" He asked.
"You're a man. You know car shit."
He scoffed. "A woman who doesn't know her own car shit ain't attractive. You know that?"
"Wah wah wah, are you gonna come help me or not Syre?"
"Give me 5 minutes witcho brat ass." He hung up on me before I could respond and I sucked my teeth.
He's so rude in the morning.
I mean he was rude all the time but in the morning? That was a very different kind of rude.
I stood there, waiting way more than the 5 minutes that was promised and I was about to call him again but I finally saw him stepping off of the Elevator.
"That wasn't no damn five minutes."
"Shut the fuck up. Get in, pop the hood and turn it over when I say to." He spoke with an attitude laced all in his tone.
I huffed before walking back to the drivers side and getting in. Popping the hood as he said, I lost sight of him behind it but I could hear him grumbling to himself.
"Turn it." I heard him say, and I leaned forward, turning the key.
"Foot on the brake." He warned.
"My foot is on the brake bitch." I snapped.
I watched him lean from under the hood and give me a death stare and I pouted my lip.
"Sorry."
"No you're not. That's why your shit is broken." He spoke in a "that's what you get" tone and I frowned even more.
