PRADA YOU | POP SMOKE

3.

BASHAR JACKSON

"shar.. shar get up" i heard faintly as i turned my head away from the noise. "Pop get up!" the voice whisper yelled as they nudged me.

"let me fuckin' sleep" i dug my face in the pillow and i felt hands on my bare back.

"sharrr!" amari whined, patting my back. "boy come on! my aunt finna come in here soon!"

i didn't answer and she sighed, playing with my durag.

"wake up or ima touch it"

"don't fuckin' do it, Amari"

feeling her hand go lower to my butt, i groaned and grabbed her arm keeping a tight grip on it as i turned over and she stared at me. 

"happy?" she nodded. 

"my parents are here.. your gonna have to sneak through the window because they'll think we fucked and we didn't-"

"i'll tell them we didn't. i ain't sneakin' out no house i grew up in" she sighed as i stood up out of bed and brushed myself off.

"pop put some pants on!" she looked away from me making me laugh at her nervousness. "you can see your print"

"only if you look" i chuckled, going over to her and lifting her chin so she looked up at me. "i wouldn't mind if you looked anyway"

"i wouldn't. not tryna see ya lil shrimpy" she poked my stomach making me smack my teeth as she laughed and i pushed her hands off. "you maddd!"

"man that's why i can see yo lace" i pushed her head and she glared at me. "not so funny now huh?"

"i just woke up. give me a fuckin' break, bashar" she rolled her eyes, going into her closet.

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