"I hurt on the daily. Be my peace, I'm tired of the pain."
*
If you want a love story about two happy people thuggin', this ain't that.
SHORT story based on Youngboy Never Broke Again's verse in: On Me
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"Montana helped me in that cell when I ain't have a thing."
A shirtless Kentrell took a hit from the blunt, passing it to Yvette. She took it from his fingers and did the same. Smoke filled their faces as the relaxed feeling passed through them.
"Niggas ain't shit." Was the first thing she mumbled after a while. Surprisingly, Kentrell heard every word uttered over his loud stereo system. They were sitting in his car with the tinted windows rolled up.
"You right. Ain't nobody shit when you down bad." Kentrell tells her as he takes the blunt back. It didn't seem special to anybody else, but they had been talking about smoking together for so long.
"Seem like you got some' on your chest." She said, finally turning the music down just a little bit. She quickly snatched up the Arizona can, feeling her mouth getting way too dry for comfort.
"I always do. Always got pressure." He chuckled, speaking in a low voice.
"You know what I'm here for." She smiled a little. Kentrell noticed how she was always willing to listen to his rants, but she hardly ever complained to him. If she did, it would have to be late at night during a deep conversation.
"People always did me dirty, but when I figured out that they don't owe me shit, I cooled down. I remember when I was locked up in that cell though,"
Kentrell blows a breath as he sits in the small, boxed up cell. He laid on the top bunk, reading the letters that Three and Montana sent him. Three's letter was basically how 'the streets missed him'.
This made Kentrell think of the couple of times that he didn't feel like getting up or doing anything significant—simply because he felt like he had nobody on his side.
Clin•i•cal De•press•ion: A mental health disorder characterized by persistently depressed mood or loss of interest in activities, causing significant impairment in daily life.
'If the streets really missed me, they would come and see me.' He thought as he just shuffled the papers and started to read Montana's letter. Montana told him that he was going to start sending him money, and that he had his back until he got out.
It was nice to know that somebody had his back.
He had told Kentrell to keep his head up, that everything was going to work out.
"If you know that they were for you when you was rock bottom, then why do you allow them to feed off you now?" She asked. This made him think—he was silent for a little bit.
"I know how it feel to be turned away...shit hurt. I don't want anybody to feel that because of me." He tells her and stops to blow smoke through his nose and mouth. He looked over to see that she was staring at him.
"What?" He asked. She smiled.
"You always thinking about somebody else." She put her head against the seat. "Be selfish sometimes...think about yourself." She mumbled, turning her head to face the front. He looked at her, admiring every detail of her face.
He bit his cheek nervously as he reached over. He gently turned her head and kissed her. She pulled back and looked him in his eyes.
"What are you doing?" She asked, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.
"Being selfish." He quoted her, leaning back in. He pulled her into a kiss again. She put her small hands on his face as the kiss intensified. The phone ringing in Kentrell's pocket pissed him off, but he ignored it as he bit her bottom lip and tugged slightly.
She climbed to the other side and straddled his lap. He gripped her hips and pulled her down to sit on his lap. She felt his print press against her core.
She kissed his neck as he slipped his hands in her leggings. He moves her panties to the side, rubbing her clit from the back and slides to fingers inside of her. She bites her lip as his long fingers rub her walls. She grabs the hem of her shirt with crossed arms and pulls it off over her head, revealing the black lacy bra underneath. He raised an eyebrow.
"What?" She asked.
"Who you was planning to fuck?" She sucked her teeth.
"You always got something to say." She mugged him as he whipped out his phone and answered it.
"What Nini?" He asked with gritted teeth. She scrunches her face up and gets off of him. For a couple of seconds, she forgot Jania was in the picture.
"Where you at?" She asked him as Yvette sighed softly.
"Chilling, What you want?" He went around her question.
"I wanna chill with my boyfriend, damn. I can't do that?"
"I ain't say that, bruh. Shit." He rubbed a hand down his face, feeling his high being blown.
"Okay, so where you at?"
"My mama house." He said.
"Okay, I'm on my way." He hung up the phone.
"Fuck, mane...She on the way." Yvette just grabbed her shirt and slipped it back on. *
