Exchange || Bryson Tiller [ #Wattys2017 ]

XI

"this what happens when I think bout you, I get in my feelings yeah..."

Mariah.

When I woke up after my lil nap I cleaned up the mess that we made from our usual movies nights and took a sleeping Micah back home.

Somewhere along the line Bri went home, and that surprised me because I'm usually a light sleeper but I didn't hear anything. Unlike Micah, where you can run a truck over him and he still wouldn't wake up.

Sometimes I wonder...

Anyways once I got out the shower and was about to hop into my comfortable bed someone had to nerve to knock on my damn door.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled to myself.
I looked at the time and it was 4:36 am. I must be tripping...

I stood there until the knocks continued.

I groaned loudly to myself as I marched angrily down the stairs.

When I swung the door open, there was Bryson staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

I don't know if it was the fact that I was standing in the doorway with a wet curly mane and a short purple silk robe or it if was just really dark and he was trying to read mine. Either way he didn't address it, he just asked

"You tryna smoke?"

Which was really code for, "I wanna talk."

And I don't mind, that's what friends are for...

I led Bryson into my apartment and out to the balcony that had a perfect view of the city.

Thank God, it wasn't cold out here.

We sat there in silence in these humongous beanbag chairs that I had out there as we just quietly enjoyed each other's presence.

I declined the offer of his blunt simply because I didn't come out here to smoke, I came out here for Bryson.

After he took three hits he started shaking his head and laughing quietly to his self. Something I realized he does a lot.

"What's on your mind, Bryson?" I quietly asked.

There was a long pause until I heard a soft sniffle.

He was crying.

I looked over at him and scooted closer wrapping my arm tightly around his shoulder, instantly comforting him.

This man really wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Come on, Bryson. Talk to me." I coached, rubbing his back.

Another silence until he finally spoke.

"My baby..."

"Harley?"

He nodded.

"What about her?" I asked.