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I silence my vibrating phone by pressing decline for the 10th time in the past 5 minutes.
"You sure you don't want to answer that" My oldest brother Amyr says looking at my phone resting on my bed beside us.
"No, I'm doing something" I return to nipping his cuticles.
"Who is it"
"Uhm, mind your business" I nip the side of his finger on purpose.
"See this why I don't like y'all near me with sharp things" he says trying to pull his thumb from me, but I hold it between my pointer and thumb tightly.
"Who is y'all"
"You and mommy" Rolling my eyes, I move to his right hand concentrating on not hurting him. My brother finally let me do his nails after me asking for five years.
He's not a construction worker, nor does he do any work that requires getting your hands dirty, yet his nails are always be dirty and rough.
"Can we take a break"
"Can you shut up, you're acting like a three-year-old"
He smacks his teeth before asking me "Why are you being so rude, yo' boyfriend pissed you off or something"
No actually. My mentally unstable ex-boyfriend made me orgasm and squirt from a fucking phone call and now I feel fucking pathetic.
I was doing so good, so freaking well and it was all just ruined. Just because I was on Face-fucking-Time.
How embarrassing is that?
"Can I call my wife"
"I don't know why you're asking me for permission " I furrow my eyebrows. Layla would be ecstatic to get here her husband is finally getting his crusty ass nails done.
My brother is 28 and happily married, so it seems, to his lovely wife named Layla. Layla is so beautiful, and they have two beautiful boys.
My attention is captured by my brother's face when he cheeses like a 1980 killer clown once Layla answered the phone. I wish to have somebody look at me, the way he looks at Layla.
I want somebody to have the type of care and adoration for me that fills your soul, mind, and body so much so that you can see it through their eyes. I want to feel it every time their eyes land on me.
I wanted him to look at me that way, I wanted Nicholai to look at me that way.
But he can't, he doesn't love as others love, he doesn't care like others care.
I curse myself for letting my mind return to Nicholai again. He's been all I've been able to think about for the past week and I have no idea why.
I was just fine in the previous years. Now, all of a sudden I can't stop thinking about the man. Ugh.
