Frequencies

XXVII

SWIPE AND HIT PLAY FOR MUSIC!

Jordan's POV
•€•
January 20th

Naps in the middle of the day aren't something that I usually take but things have become so stressful. The most stressful thing about it is keeping everything from Gabby.

She doesn't deserve it but I have no other choice.

Well I have another choice but it's something I can't do. I can't give her up and maybe that's selfish.

I look over and I don't see Gabby but she had fallen asleep with me.

"Gabby," I groan rubbing my eyes but I'm met with silence.

"Baby," I call out again and still...I don't hear anything. The bathroom door is open with the lights off. Although my senses are currently delayed, I can draw the conclusion that she isn't anywhere near.

"Gabriella!" I say a little louder.

"Bubba," I hear her say softly. I sit up seeing her sitting in front of the bed, painting her nails.

Why must she use that name?

It actually isn't as funny as she thinks it is.

"Why must you play with me?" I ask as I pull myself over to the bottom part of the bed, kissing her neck.

"Why must you call my government?" She chuckles and I softly bite her neck making her pull away.

I get off of the bed and walk into the bathroom to release all that had built up in my sleep.

"I swear you paint those nails everyday," I say.

"I don't see how that's any of your concern," she chuckles, blowing one hand dry.

I've only ever seen her in fake nails once and even though she nibbles on the paint when she's nervous, she grew her own nails out pretty long and she takes pride in them.

I wash my hands and make my way back out into the bedroom, sliding behind her siting on the floor, her back against my chest.

"You like them?" She asks holding out her nude painted nails so the sun hit them just right.

"I do," I nod and she proceeds to do the other hand as I place my head in the crook of her neck and wrap my hands around her waist, watching.

In moments like these, I should only be thinking about what I have. Her.

But I can't help but think of how easily this can change if I don't handle my business. He wants to me to go on a job for him.

That may include some type of shipment or even playing God with someone's life. None of which willing to do.

But if it comes downs to it, I'll have to. She can't be in the middle of this.

"You look like you're struggling," I chuckle, making her bump me with her back and frown.

"I can never do my right hand," she whines.

"Let me help you," I whisper. She gives me a look filled with hesitation before handing me the polish, placing her hand in mine so I can bring it closer to me.

I do a few fingers and allow her to see before I continue. She nods and smiles. She was doubting me only a few seconds ago.

"It doesn't still hurt does it?" She asks, using her dry hand to rub against the bruises on my fist.

"No, baby. It doesn't," I say truthfully but she doesn't seem to believe me. She continues to peek at them, her lips pouted.

Although they don't hurt, they still pain me. It's torturous.