Welcome to The New Classic, where the past and the present merge, to form a new future.
Once that no one can see coming...
Join Angelo, Vanessa and the rest of the gang three and a half long years after that fateful night.
Lo kept count. V didn't...
Moodlist Heaven - Beyoncé Good Goodbye - Lianne La Havas If God Spoke - Chloe x Halle Things Will Get Better - Cleo Sol Transmission/Michaelion - Ibeyi (featuring Meshell Ndegeocello) FORWARD - Beyoncé (featuring James Blake) Vaya Con Dios - Kali Uchis
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I only woke up again when I felt Yonas' small body being taken out of my arms. That forced the hormones that rendered me unconscious to vacate with a quickness, only to be replaced by adrenaline. Coursing through my veins, it readied me to fight whomever might be trying to steal him away.
The need to fight was quickly doused when I realised that it was indeed his mother, who was picking her child up.
The time it took for her to go and get him ready for the day allowed me some time to come to and start my own.
All of a sudden, the amount of room I had in this house was so apparent. I felt like my quiet sobs ricocheted of every surface, prolonging the sound. Eventually though, I was able to shower by myself for the first time in a while and even managed to remember my skincare routine.
The bun I had my hair in was worse for wear, and the product remnants had started to flake, prompting me to wash it out whilst in the shower.
My arms still hurt from having them over my damn head for so long but I felt better for it.
By the time I found some comfy loungewear, my glasses and took a seat at my vanity, Malia reappeared, seemingly ready for whatever.
I had been less than responsible with my contact lenses, and had been sleeping with them in. All of the crying made my eyes so irritated that they were still red, even though I had taken them out before I hit the shower.
"Can you help me with my hair, please?" I managed to whisper the request, as the way she was looking at me in the mirror made me want to actually cry all over again.
"Of course, baby." And with that, she got started. Mally knew my go to lazy hairstyle was a low bun with two parts on either side of my head, and she began the process of achieving the style.
This was true sisterhood. I didn't need to ask her when and how she got here. And she didn't need to ask me what I wanted.
My scalp was greased, and my hair was sectioned and moisturised from root to end. Bit by bit, she started slicking the sections down with my old faithful, the Argon Oil Ecostyler Gel, making sure not to put too much tension on each section. Having detangled while moisturising, she made light work of smoothing each section with an old, gel-caked slicking brush.
Eventually, she incorporated the three sections at the front, slicking them into place to define the partings, before twisting my mane into a sleek bun at the nape of my neck. Then she got creative with the baby hairs, not going overboard, but adding little swirls and swoops where I would usually forgo them.
