Emiko Love is a innocent, non-troubling Harlem girl who works two jobs trying to help out around her grandma's house. One day working at Sylvia's, she comes across this guy.
After being in a accident and him being her ride to the hospital, she neve...
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𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚖, 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝚈𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝟸:𝟻𝟿 𝙰.𝙼.
It was going on 3:00 in the morning and I wasn't trying to go to sleep until Shy made it back. I was curious as to what was keeping him out late and why he hasn't called. Usually if something got in the way, he would let me know but maybe he was busy.
I sighed to myself, leaning on my arm as I changed the channel. I found myself on CNN. "A shooting on 8th street looks to be like a drug deal gone wrong. Sources say they seen black vans leaving from the area in a hurry." The news reporter says, catching my attention.
Seeing pictures of many men pop up, I shook my head in disappointment, only because they probably have family at home and now their family won't be able to see them anymore over a lifestyle that could've been changed.
I didn't get the point of selling drugs when there were many careers but sometimes, it wasn't their fault. It was what they were taught and what they grew up around that made them that way but I wasn't the type to judge or preach.
Being in the streets only got you kilt and gave your family pain, something I wouldn't want to go through and I'm glad that Shy isn't in the streets.
The sound of the front door closing took me out of my thoughts as Shy came in. He kicked his shoes off and walked up the stairs. He didn't say anything to me, he just acted as if I wasn't there.
Later, I heard the shower run. He was inside for a good 30 minutes but I knew he would be out soon because the water would get cold.
Playing with my finger nails, Shy then came down minutes later in nothing but joggers. His tattoos showcased and the smell of his men body wash followed him.
He didn't even look my way, he just continued his walk to the kitchen. I was now confused and thought I did something. "Shy?" I call out after him, getting no answer. I smacked my lips lowly, going inside the kitchen to see his back turned to me. He was looking through the cabinets before he pulled out a glass and a bottle of Hennessy.
"Well hello to you too." I said, folding my arms. "Wassup." He spoke dryly and inside I was screaming. I couldn't and I wouldn't argue with him tonight on his bipolar ways. I refused.
"I'm not about to do this with you tonight. It's too late." I mumble, turning on my heels and leaving out. I went up the stairs and inside his bedroom. I grabbed a pillow before going inside his closet to find a small cover. Spotting a blue one, I grabbed it and headed out the room, quietly shutting the door due to Peyton sleeping.
Heading down the stairs, I sat the pillow on the couch, along with the cover, getting ready to get comfortable. "What you doing? You not sleeping down here." He said and I slightly rolled my eyes. "Yes I am. Goodnight." I say as I lay down, covering my face with the cover.
