Release. *A Letitia Wright FanFic*

7.

Letitia waited in the car as her chauffeur came around and opened her door. Harper stepped out first and she followed right behind. She had ditched her two bodyguards after leaving the restaurant letting them know she'd see them back at her own hotel; she didn't feel like causing any unnecessary attention. She strolled alongside Harper as they made their way to the elevator.

Silence permeated the lift as they ascended to Harpers floor level. Letitia tried to find something, anything to say to cut through the awkwardness but her nerves wouldn't let her. Well---this was a lot easier at the restaurant; they hadn't spoken that much during the car ride to the hotel either. What was it about being completely alone with her that made her go mute? Surely she had been around a lot of beautiful women and she could easily hold a conversation with any of them but Harper was different---she was...new. A feeling she hadn't felt...since Morgan. She glanced over at Harper who was fiddling with the gold bangle on her wrist; she was nervous too. She grabbed her hand. "You're nervous." She spoke but never made eye contact.

Many emotions swam around in her head. Was this right? Maybe she should've just gone back to her hotel and called Morgan. She liked Harper though. She enjoyed how she made her laugh in the short period of time they'd been together. She needed a laugh or two. Life had been kicking her ass for the past couple of years and everyday she felt lost at sea; she was sinking. But she couldn't make Harper her floatie nor her savior. Only she could do that. But having Harper around while she did tread through all the bullshit she was dealing with wasn't a bad idea either. At least she finally would have someone to confide in and talk to. Dominique was always going to be there but she needed more than a sister relationship. She needed to feel loved physically---intimately.

"If I'm being honest, I'm nervous as hell to show you what I've come up with...but also a bit excited." Harper said, gripping her hand a bit tighter.

This is so perfect. She's so perfect.

She kept her gaze facing forward, staring at the elevator doors. She hoped her sweaty palms weren't becoming too noticeable. "I'm excited, you're excited," she smiled. She meant that too. It made her feel good knowing someone cared as much as she did when it came to how she looked. It also satisfied her to be in the presence of someone who didn't make her feel worthless.

The elevator reached the 18th floor and they proceeded to Harper's suite. Letitia held on tight to the Tiramisú that she'd finally gotten a to-go box for. Stepping into the almost pitch black room she sat the box down on the wall table where the overhead lamp illuminated the surface. Harper switched on the room lights showcasing the messiness that was her living area. She really should've tidied up but after the last minute dinner plans she had no time.

"I like what you've done with the place." Letitia glanced around noticing all the clothes that had been sprawled everywhere.

"Please excuse the mess. It wouldn't look this way if my bitchy boss hadn't sprung on me at the last minute that I was to be at a dinner with a certain...someone." She said, gathering up a few of the clothing items and tossing them back into her now unorganized suitcase.

"Oh so you're just going to blame me? I sure hope my outfit isn't thrown around somewhere in here." Letitia had joked.

"No, of course not. And all the blame is on Daaria and her whack ass approach to break me." She scoffed.

Letitia moved a few clothing items off the armchair, smirking at the sight of Harper's red lace panties and took a seat.

I bet she looks so damn good in nothing but lace. Morgan always did. Fuck---stop thinking about her, she hurt you. Maybe I should call her after this!