Superficial (DE)

Twenty-six.

SUMMER by The Carters blasted in Cerise's AirPod Max's as she walked the block long distance from her Pilates studio back to Brandon's building in upper Manhattan. Her athletic shoes made a tapping noise against the pavement with each step like a rhythm, her high pony tail swinging; the muscles in her exposed torso and thighs tight from being worked out with a thin layer of salty perspiration coating her skin from the steamy session. She was feeling rather adventurous the other night and booked a hot Pilates class, similar to hot Yoga.

Cerise always felt her best after a workout, like it gave her body a hard reset but life in general had been more than beautiful the past few days— specifically since she found that loop hole. She enjoyed the class but it felt weird not having Asante by her side. They did everything together and since their exchange in the middle of Neiman's last week, they'd barely spoken.

Part of Cerise felt bad because she'd been so wrapped around Brandon's fingers and him entangled within hers, that she hadn't taken the time to reach out to her best friend— but part of her felt like she shouldn't have to.

The thought had crossed her mind several times— maybe Asante was right and she was just concerned. But then again, Brandon had never put Cerise in harms way and the thought of him ever doing so never crossed her mind. He worshipped the ground she walked on, and treated her like a goddess, delicately. Brandon backed his affirmations up with actions daily without being asked to do so and instilled a certain trust and comfort in Cerise that no man ever had before, not even her father.

Brandon caressed Cerise's brain and coddled her heart. He made her feel safe more than just physically, but mentally too. Ever since Cerise made that discovery, the two were practically inseparable, in the deepest stage of the honey moon phase, sickeningly smitten with one another. The thought of him while she was walking was enough to make her wanna run the whole way to his place and jump right into her spot in his arms.

Seeing a familiar face from the corner of her eye, she stopped in front of a newspaper stand, the newest issues of several magazines on display— including Harpers Bazaar. Peeling her Celine shades off her face in dismay, there she was on the cover. Cerise snatched a magazine off the display, staring at the cover. She hadn't heard from Yune again since the shoot and just figured her shots weren't good enough as she'd never done anything of the sort, but there she was on the cover.

"That's you— that's you ain't it?" The newspaper man asked, his voice burly and gruff.

"How much for this?" She asked, holding it up.

"Keep it," He nodded. "Those been sellin like hot cakes since I got em in,"

Cerise couldn't believe her eyes, she felt like she was dreaming. She'd felt like she was in a dream ever since Brandon came into her life. If it weren't for him, that dream would've never came true. Cerise practically ran the remainder of the distance to Brandon's building with the magazine rolled up in her hand. She couldn't wait to show him.

Bursting through his penthouse door ready to yell his name, she stopped in her tracks finding a giant bouquet of tulips on the counter with a small card. A little  smile tugged at the corner of her full lips as her excitement simmered down some. Kicking her shoes off, she set the magazine down and plucked the tiny note card from its holder in the bouquet.

I don't think you realize how easy it is to fall into the ocean that is your eyes. I wanna drown in the depths of you— B

Cerise chewed on her bottom lip, suppressing the urge to smile as she looked around the quiet penthouse, more quiet than usual. "Brandon— I'm back!" Cerise shouted as she went to look for him but to no avail couldn't find him. She did however, find it peculiar as he told her he'd be there when she got back.