The Color Black [an original story]

sixteen

Author's Note: It was really hard typing with nails on. My hand caught a cramp, but I finished. This is where the story starts to take a turn...enjoy!

Geneviève rested peacefully as she felt every staple getting removed her stomach. Although they had a meaning, it was time for them to go, her wound finally healed. Black was by her side, holding her hand, watching a tear escaped from her eye. He quickly wiped it and Geneviève opened her eyes to look at him. She still believed the death of their son was his fault.

"You did amazing." Black whispered in her ear. She lifted her body up to look at her stomach. There was a line forming, indicating that a scar was forming.

After everything was clear, the both of them left out the office and into Black's car. None of them said a word, Geneviève looked out the window, holding her stomach while Black drove. Black couldn't take the silence. He hated when Geneviève be distance with him. Black was finding a secluded area where he could park the car and talk to Geneviève. Geneviève's head hit the window with every bump and turn Black made. She noticed Black wasn't going in the right direction as before and looked over at him.

"What are you doing?" Geneviève asked. Black ignored her, finding a spot, parking the car, ready to talk to Geneviève. -"Black, seriously, what are you doing? I'm ready to go back home."

"We're not going home until we talk. You haven't said a word to me since you woke up. I'm changing. What's the problem?" Black questioned.

"There is no problem. I'm just really tired and ready to get back home. Let's talk when we get home."

"No!" Black hit the steering wheel. -"We're going to talk about us right here in this car. You have no other choice."

"I do have an other choice." Geneviève responded, unbuckling the seatbelt, unlocking the passenger's side door, getting ready to get out, until Black climbed over her.

"I wish you would get out this car while I'm trying to talk to you. Geneviève, I'm trying my hardest to be patient with you."

"What is there to talk about? Once I get back on my feet, I'm leaving you—,"

Black gripped the side of Geneviève's hair, pulling her face closer to his. -"Stop saying that shit. You're not leaving me."

"Black, please let my hair go." Geneviève wished and Black did. He fixed his posture in his seat before clearing his throat. -"This is why I'm leaving you. You're still abusive."

"You should've left me a long time ago if that was the case. I forgot, you're not a real woman anymore."

"I survived a car crash and the death of my child and I'm still striving. I am a real woman, you're not a real man."

"But this real man is taking care of you. This real man made you published a book. Black Reynolds is a real man." Black's big ego came out.

"Whatever, I'm going to be out of your life real soon. Take me back to your place, so I can get my stuff and get out."