CONVICTED (Completed)

-9-

DOMINIC ALEXANDER

I stood in front of the big windows in her bathroom, towel wrapped around my waist as the steam from the shower I had just taken lingered a while. The view brought a sense of peace to the point where I didn't want to look away. We were high enough to the point where the idea of curtains was useless, I stood by Zahriah's decision to keep the windows bare; the beauty outside should never be covered with any kind of sheer or fabric. This view... was addicting, the calm that any and everyone needed to see.

I took in a deep exhale, letting go as I closed my eyes for a moment before walking over to where my duffle bag was. I moisturized my skin with the Japanese Cherry Blossom scent I saw on her counter, it was pretty strong but not that bad. I had showered with the gel so it only made sense to finish off with the lotion as well.

I got myself dressed then threw my duffle bag over my shoulder once I had everything together. As instructed, I placed the towel into the laundry bin by the door before stepping out into her bedroom. Everything was neat and organized, not that I expected any less. The woman's vibe alone spoke volumes of her being put together, I wasn't surprised one bit by the way she was living.

Making my way into the living room, I smiled at the sound of her giggles as she sat facing the big screen TV that displayed Martin reruns. A classic and one of my favourites for sure. Next to her sat a bag of white cheddar popcorn that she popped into her mouth between laughs. Great taste in shows and in snacks I see.

As I shut her bedroom door, she finally looked over her shoulder. "You clean up well." She said, while covering her mouth so that she could finish chewing.

"I've heard that a few times." I licked my bottom lip as I trotted over to the TV. "I appreciate you for allowing me to come over and freshen up."

"Don't mention it, it's the least I could do." she paused the show then stood to her feet. "Did you want something else to eat? I got some leftovers from last night..." she walked over to her fridge, "I have to admit, I am not the best chef in town but I do make a mean pasta!"

"I'd love to, but I gotta head out now."

"Head out where?" her brows furrowed as she began to size me up.

"This is nice and all, but I can't stay here."

"... and where do you plan on going?"

I scratched the back of my head, "probably hit up one of my boys out of town, see what they're saying."

"Is this boy you speak of gang affiliated in any way?"

"I aint answering that."

"I'll take that as a yes," she opened up the fridge and took out two bottles of water, along with the pot that I'm assuming contained the pasta. "Put your duffle bag down and have a seat."

"Zahriah, look. I'm grateful for this, hon-."

"Should I throw some garlic bread in the toaster? Or are you not a carb person?"

"Zahriah..." I sighed.

"Dominic, put the bag down and come help me serve this food." She folded her arms, "I'm not trying to make you feel as if you're stuck here or anything, but you need to remember that you asked me for help."

"This is more than enough help."

"Your eyes are puffy and your lips are dry. You're both tired and very hungry so no, my help is not done. The least you can do is have dinner here, get some rest and if you want to go afterwards... feel free. But, I'm not alright with the idea of you leaving like this." Leaving no room for argument, she walked over to me and placed her hand the straps of my duffle bags. My eyes met hers as she took it off and carefully placed it into the corner of the room. Zahriah dusted off her hands before returning back to the kitchen to wash them. "So, back to what I was saying are you a carb person or not?"