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After enjoying my refreshing "everything" shower, I step out and begin the process of getting dressed. I select a pair of short pink sweatpants that beautifully complement my dark skin. As I slip into them, I can't help but appreciate the way they make me feel. Next, I reach for my boyfriend's oversized sweater, which I may or may not have borrowed without his knowledge. With the cozy attire in place, I walk over to the window to take in the sight of the rain falling against the dark midnight sky.
As I admire the scene, I decide to create a snug atmosphere by closing the curtains and retreating to my bed. I grab my phone and play a Faye Webster playlist, allowing her melodic tunes to fill the room. Opening my laptop, I queue up an episode of Gilmore Girls, one of my favorite shows. The comfort of my bed, the rain outside, and the familiar characters on the screen make for a perfect evening.
As time passes, the weariness of the day begins to catch up with me. I start to doze off, only to be awakened by a gentle kiss on my cheek. Without even looking, I can immediately tell that it's him—Hugh, my loving boyfriend. He tenderly caresses my cheek, gazing deeply into my eyes as I reciprocate, getting lost in his captivating ocean blue gaze.
However, my contentment is suddenly interrupted by a gust of panic. Reacting swiftly, I rise from the bed and lock the door, relieved that we didn't get caught. Growing up in a household with extremely strict African parents, I have to be cautious. I glance at Hugh, who seems unaware of the tension, flashing me a warm smile. "You're completely drenched in rain," I exclaim. "Well, I don't have anything to change into," he chuckles. Sympathetic to his predicament, I retrieve the sweatpants and sweatshirt I "borrowed" from him and hand them over.
Amused, he quips, "Ah, so that's where my clothes have been hiding," and heads towards the bathroom to change. Settling back into my bed, I resume watching Gilmore Girls, the familiar banter of Lorelai and Rory bringing a sense of comfort. Shortly after, Hugh returns, crawling up behind me and leaving a trail of tender kisses on my neck. He wraps his arms around me, enveloping me in a cocoon of safety and warmth.
Amidst our intimate embrace, he brings up a pressing matter. "We should tell them sometime soon," he suggests, a hint of concern in his voice. "I don't like sneaking around." Sighing, I respond, "You know how difficult it is with my parents... Their traditional values dictate that I marry within our culture, conforming to their expectations. But it doesn't matter if they accept you or not. All that matters is that I love you." Reassured, Hugh eases his grip around me and turns to face the opposite direction.
"Is it all because of my skin color?" he asks, a mix of disappointment and frustration lingering in his voice. "Yes," I reply quietly. He presses further, "Is that all you can say?" Drawing closer to him, I meet his eyes and speak from the heart. "Hugh, you're white. My parents' old-fashioned views make it difficult for them to accept our relationship. But it doesn't change how I feel about you. What matters most is that I love you, regardless of their approval." He turns, resting his head on my chest, finding solace in my words.
Continuing to play with his hair, I let the episode of Gilmore Girls play on. After a while, he takes my phone and switches the song to "Wicked Games" by Chris Isaak. "You have impeccable taste in music," he murmurs appreciatively before eventually drifting off to sleep. Inspired by his peaceful state, I too succumb to slumber.
