Picture Perfect

6.

~Sam~

I turn my face away from him completely forgetting that I have no makeup covering Garrison's transgression.

"Ky, it's not... please, just don't. I already know what you're thinking and probably what you're going to say. Just please don't. I know."

I walk into the room and he follows closely behind me. I don't bother looking in his direction but I hear the room door close.

I bite the inside of my mouth unsure of what to say to him.

I set my glass of water down on the nightstand and he moves closer to me. When I turn to look up at him, he catches my eyes in attempts to hold my gaze.

His hand slowly reaches for my face. I move to stop him out of reflex but I don't. His thumb brushes along the scratch.

"I could fucking kill this nigga. How could he do this shit to you? I know you don't want to hear this but how could you let him?"

I push him away and shrug.

"It's not going to be like this forever. Don't worry about me though." I speak out of insecurity.

"I can't not worry about you. You don't deserve this shit Samantha." He moves closer to me again to embrace me. I allow it and hold onto him.

"I'm so sorry this shit is happening to you, you don't deserve this baby." He repeats himself moving his thumb up and down my back.

I move back and look at his face. He moves that hand up again to my cheek and moves his face lower to place a kiss on the spot that still aches.

He keeps brushing his thumb over it, he looks at it as if he's just stuck in disbelief.

"If you need somewhere safe to go, ever, you know where to find me." He tells me.

I nod and watch as he walks away from me and out of the room.

I find myself struggling to really rest thinking about what shit will be like once I go back home. He's called me 7 times. He hasn't called in about 4 hours. Maybe he's asleep. Maybe he thinks I'm asleep. What if he thinks I ran away somewhere?

Or maybe he doesn't care? What if I pushed him to go find company in Tania, or Seraya. He did tell me that he wanted to do something special for me, but I'm tired of being bought by nice things.

He thinks he can give me the world with his wallet but that only works when you have what you actually need.

I need comfort, I need protection, I need to not be made crazy for wanting my man, the one I fucking married, to be for by anyone else. I need encouragement, I need support- both emotional and spiritual. I need a companion, I need a lover. I want to be loved. I need it.

But who could ever really love me knowing I've already been drenched and drained by another?

~Kyler~

Practice is definitely a bit rough today. For one, we can't seem to take our scrimmage serious. And two I can't get over the fact that this nigga really marked his lady up like that. The anger I feel just keeps expanding every time he does some stupid shit.

He says something to someone about his faith serving as some sort of moral compass or guide. Bullshit.

I suck my teeth and wave him off.

He steps closer to me.

"Yo, you good? Cause that little pass made it seem like you might have a problem."

I pay him very little physical attention maintaining my focus straight ahead.

"No problem, just nobody wants to hear that shit right now. You always trying to preach about the wrong shit at the wrong time. You need to be studying your position so we can do what we need to on the road and get these W's." I take my stance and hold firmly to it without getting overly personal with it.