Normani Kordei Hamilton.
I hum, softly, trying my best not to wake Dinah, and then sigh and scribble all over the freshly written words. "Dammit." I whisper rather loudly and put my hand to my head, as if it'll transfer some sense through my forehead.
My creative sense was improving, I now had fresh ideas, and found myself not wanting to depend on Zayn's music anymore. But that's what I thought. So far, I was just writing - writing out of anger because of a certain curly haired singer - writing down my thoughts.
But I was being dramatic.
"Hey."
I look up slowly and cannot help but almost melt at the sight of Dinah, her long golden locks up in a messy bun, and her body barely covered in a grey, wool nightie, exposing most of her caramel skin.
"Hi." I manage to respond, despite the dryness in my throat. "Why are you up?" I ask, my eyes darting to the clock. Almost two am. Damn.
"Why are you up?" She smirks, before walking to the kitchen. "Coffee?" I hear a small flip of a switch.
"Please." I almost groan in appreciation. Dinah laughs and makes her way over to the couch, hovering over me.
"So you're up writing?"
"I wouldn't say that." I put my notepad aside. I needed a new one. "How's your stomach?" I ask, looking up at her.
"It's okay. I just couldn't sleep, needed some tea." She replies before pressing her lips against the top of my head, and stalking off. "Two sugars?"
"Four." I correct her. "I still need to get my thoughts in order."
"Okay." I hear her voice from the kitchen as she begins opening cupboards. "I'll sing your eulogy when you die from sugar diabetes."
"Cute." I smile and take a deep breath, deciding to take a break from my murderous thoughts.
After a moment of calmness, my girlfriend emerges from the kitchen with two steaming cups. "Thank you." I accept and blow over the cup.
"Want help?" Dinah asks, putting her cup down and crossing her legs as she sits back on the couch, mindful of my work.
"No thanks." I decline politely. I didn't want Dinah to catch on.
"Sure?" She double checks, and I nod. "Okay then."
"The songs that you've written..." I begin another thought. "Why don't you let me see them?"
"Oh." She chuckles lightly as she grabs her cup and envelopes her hands around them, shuddering at the warmness. "That's what this is about."
"No." I shake my head with a smile of my own. "That is me trying to be independent." I correct her. "But I was just curious."
"Because I'm shy." She decides after thinking for a while. "I don't like people judging me." She elaborates before taking a sip of her amazing smelling tea. "And people listening to my voice either, because they get judgemental. I don't like criticism, however small that may sound."
"I'm not people." I begin as I pull my own legs up to the couch. "And I'm definitely not judgemental." I rest my legs on her lap.
"I know." She moves her legs to make herself more comfortable, taking mine into consideration. "But I'll show you when I'm comfortable. Deal?"
"Deal." I reply immediately, and take a sip of my coffee, pulling my face. "Damn, this is sweet."
"You wanted it." She shrugs, taking a sip of her own tea. "Is this normal? A couple sitting up at two in the morning?"
