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BRANDON'S RIGHT ARM WAS NUMB due to not being moved for a certain undetermined amount of hours.
It was something that Brandon was used to from cuddling with Sunday but that didn't make the feeling inside his asleep muscle any easier.
Sunday was laying on his limb, adjacent to Brandon on her bed and her gaze fixated on the ceiling fan that was spinning at a medium speed to create a nice breeze for the couple.
She was clearly deep in thought, the look in her eyes far away and she had yet to notice that her long box braids had came out of the ponytail by themselves.
Brandon bent his elbow so that his arm was wrapped around her shoulders and then he cleared his throat a little in order to make it a little less husky and easier for Sunday to understand him.
"What's on your mind, ma?" He asked, cascading his thumb against her cheek to ensure that he had her attention.
Sunday still didn't look at him, slowly blinking, "My next moves..."
"You wanna elaborate?" Brandon inquired, his thumb still on her cheekbone.
"I'm just wondering if transferring back to the University of Kentucky for law school is the best option." Sunday tilted her head a bit.
Brandon furrowed his brows in confusion, "What makes you say that?"
Sunday took in a deep exhale before releasing her next set of words, "My dad named me as Noah's guardian when he passes... I might have to give up this D.C dream. Noah needs stability more than I need to be here."
Brandon sat upright at that, slipping his arm from under her head and then looking back to where she was laying behind him, "You can't do that. That's crazy. I'm not letting you do this."
Her eyes flickered over to where Brandon was, but only for a moment, "If you have a cure for cancer in your boxers or something, that would be the only thing you could do to keep me from moving back."
Brandon did a short chuckle, "If I had one, I wouldn't keep it in there, ma."
Sunday gave him a half smile at his lame joke then her face returned to the slightly melancholy expression from before.
"So does this mean that you've made your decision about this already?" Brandon laid back down and Sunday began to lightly play with and tug the hem of his shirt.
"Yeah. No. Yes. Nah. Shit, maybe. I came back and started packing a little but that doesn't feel right so I unpacked but that doesn't feel like the right move either. Noah says he wouldn't mind moving here but a death in the family and uprooting him the same year seems..." Sunday trailed off.
Brandon pulled Sunday closer to comfort her and she laid her head on his shoulder, "Moving Noah here after what's about to happen just feels super selfish. I don't know what I'm doing at all. The minute I leave this bed with you, all I'm gonna be reminded is how fucked up everything is right now."
Her tone was weary and Sunday's hand sprang up to rub her forehead and then moved it over to rest on Brandon's t-shirt covered chest.
"Sunny. Ma," Brandon gently lifted her chin so that Sunday would look into his dilated eyes, "You don't have to sacrifice your dream to take care of Noah. You are the most capable person I've ever had the blessing of knowing and it's gonna be hard. That's an understatement, but you're gonna handle everything with so much grace like you've always done."
Sunday was silent for a moment, her slow blinks being her only movement, "You always know the right thing to say. I love you. I love you so much."
Brandon was about to press his lips forward when the handle of the door attempted to turn and then jiggled a little, the person behind it only being barred by the fact that Sunday had locked it.
Jeanette's voice called from behind the wood, "Sunny? Sunny, I need my black heels! I have an job interview for the ACLU in an hour!"
Sunday jumped up from the bed, their tender moment more than over, "Get in the closet."
"Sunny? You there?" The door handle jiggled a bit more.
"What?" Brandon whispered back.
"Don't argue right now. Get in the closet," She repeated and then grabbed Brandon's left arm to yank him out of her bed.
Sunday pushed him into the closet using both hands, "Stay here and don't move until I get you."
Then she closed the closet door in Brandon's face.
Brandon pressed his ear to the door in an attempt to listen in as best as he could and simultaneously trying to make as little noise as possible.
Jeanette was laughing a little but the sound was a little muffled from the barrier that was the white wooden closet door, "What took you so long to open the door?"
"Um, I was just a little preoccupied. Trying to look for something, you know?" Sunday replied.
"Oh," Brandon could practically hear the shrug in Jeanette's voice.
Get out.
Get out, now.
Brandon could hear barefooted steps near the closet door and he began to pray that the shoes that Sunday's friend was looking for weren't in here.
The doorknob to the closet turned ever so slowly and Brandon could feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest at the risk of being caught before either of them were ready to tell.
"Jeanie, they're over here," It sounded like Sunday was on the other side of the bedroom.
"Oh! Thanks!" Jeanette said.
"Of course. Good luck." Brandon could hear Sunday respond.
The closet door was open faster than Brandon could blink and Sunday was standing before him again, her braids in a ponytail once more.
