"Cause if you let me,
here's what I'll do
I'll take care of you"
Allaya is just a girl from the Caribbean trying to make it in NYC. She's too busy going after everything she's ever wanted to be bothered with the drama that comes with love and relat...
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He wasn't wearing the same outfit he wore earlier, instead he looked way more casual in a pair of basketball shorts and a black Champion hoodie. But he still smelt good, like vanilla and sandalwood. A scent I could wrap myself in forever.
Forever.
What a scary little word.
Dave sat at the end of the lounger near my feet. He looked angry at me, the tension bulging in his cheeks as he clenched his jaw. I was just about to put another coat of white polish on my toes, when he looked down and took the brush and bottle from my hands to close them.
Then his stoic eyes travelled to the blunt sitting comfortably between my lips. I contemplated taking a long pull and blowing it back at him, but his fingers lightly snatched it from my lips. He briefly inspected it before flicking it off the balcony.
Damn, what if that landed on someone? I wasn't even done.
I looked at him with a blank expression, my mouth still formed as if it was still holding the blunt.
His face was turned away from me and he spoke calmly. A little to calm for my liking.
"When you start smoking that shit?"
"Hmm?", I said pretending not to hear him.
He narrowed his eyes at me, "You heard me"
"Long before I met you" I said simply.
I already envisioned how this argument would go. He'd ask me question after question, like I owed him any explanation and for every one he asked, I would answer with some sort of sarcasm.
He chuckled dryly, "Where you get it from? Was it that nigga that dropped you off?"
"Why would it matter Dave? And why you questioning me like I'm your child?"
"Maybe if you stop actin' like a kid, I wouldn't have to treat you like one!" he walked back inside.
I looked past him watching a bird fly past the building in slow motion. I'm high as fuck right now.
"Dave" I sighed, stumbling out of the lounger. I quickly clasped the sides of my robe and folded my hands over them to keep it closed. "You do realize that I lived here for three years... without you right? I don't need a babysitter or a bodyguard or whatever!"
"Did I ask if you needed one?"
He was irritating me now. Instead of asking how I felt or if I was ok, he was berating me.
