The dreams you have are full of stress, albeit in a happier way than they normally are. You dream of a baby in your arms but every time you try and see if they're a boy or a girl something happens to distract you. They don't have a name, only 'Baby,' but either way the sight of them has you in tears. Happy tears, relieved tears, tears of fear and anxiety too. The baby shower is during the beginnings of summer and there are flowers and the freshest breeze coming in from the open windows.
Everyone is there, and you're happy.
You wake up with a start, flinching and looking around with your eyes bugged out wide at the unfamiliar sensation on your feet. Your immediate reaction is to pull away but a pair of strong hands keep you from going anywhere and when you wipe your eyes you can't believe what you're seeing.
"What are you-"
N'Jadaka, rather boredly, is taking a nail clipper to your feet and when you ask again in horror he sucks his teeth. God, if you had a dollar every time he made that damn noise around you (because of you) you'd be richer than him. It's too early for you and too bright so you pull a pillow over your head as you wait for any kind of logical statement to come out of his mouth that tells you why he's cutting your toenails in your sleep.
"What. Are-"
"These shits was cuttin' me last night," he says angrily. "You need to do better."
"Excuse me." It's true, you haven't gotten a pedicure lately, but you hadn't noticed your toenails getting so long. Either way, if you were cutting him he should've shut up and took it because he almost brained you last night and you're not going to let him forget it.
Still, you'll allow this because you don't want to do it yourself, and when he makes a comment about your feet being 'too pretty' to be slicing up the sheets you try to kick him. He gets that teasing look on his face that you like, and you try not to look too long because he looks like a God in the mornings sometimes. Voice husky, dreads all over the place and more often than not-no shirt; it's sin and you hate it.
"Look at you," he says, playful cadence in his voice. "You just woke up and you got a attitude. Too pretty for all that."
"Shut up," you go, giggling into the pillow as you vainly try to go back to sleep. "Ugh my hair is a fuckin' mess, dude."
"Ain't my fault you almost drowned, 'dude.'"
"Leave me alone, bro," you go, continuing your refusal to call him any kinds of sweet names. "If I knew my feet were so pretty I would've been making money on the side selling pics on the internet. God knows I got DMs askin' for it."
You feel him squeeze your left foot. "And you better not show em; these is mine too."
"Shut up."
After clipping the final nail, N'Jadaka stands up, but not before smacking one of your feet like the petty child that he is. He disappears into the bathroom to no doubt pee with the door open so you roll back over to check the time. Your cell phone reads 8:23 AM and that's proof that you're up too early. All you can feel in your body is hunger and the beginnings of a headache, and that throws you for a loop. There are things you need to do, stuff to buy, and hair to be fixed so with a groan you swing your feet over the edge.
It feels like it takes forever to complete your extensive morning routine, and by the time you're slapping on some Everyday makeup you feel like hours have passed. Still, you think you look cute in your leggings and trusty Doc Martens. It'd help if you had a top that was more than a sports bra; and you'd wear it out if it wasn't so cool outside.
