Not My Type 3: Alternate World

35. Hard Fall

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📍BEVERLY HILLS, ST. ANDREW

N I C K O I
ɴɪᴄᴋᴏɪ

"Zara?" I walk in my room and look around. Weh she turn?

She never just inna the room a help mi pack the suitcase?

"Mi get the mocha fi yuh," I say while checking the balcony.

It's strange.

I just left about ten minutes ago to get her Starbucks now she missing? I glance my skeleton watch.

10:08 pm.

I kiss my teeth and put the Starbucks on the table.

"Keno soon fawud eno Zara. A 12 o' clock flight and yuh know this," I sit on the bed, fixing my foam runners.

I hear a faint laugh..

I look at the source. It happens to be my suitcase.

Don't tell me Zara inna the suitcase.

I laugh to myself and make my way over to it. "Zara a the suitcase yuh inna?"

I lift the top and see her legs. We both start laughing.

"Know say yah joker though?" I say watching as she pouts her lips. Her body curled up in my suitcase.

She hugs my clothes.

Jah jah.

"Just carry me inna the suitcase no?" Her eyes pleading.

I know she's playing but Jah know.

She make me a reconsider but it's too sudden.

"Just lock up the suitcase and bring me with yuh," she tries to make her body smaller for me to close it.

I keep smiling as she talks.

"No close it fully so me can get oxygen," she adds, then she breaks into laugh. Though she's being goofy, her eyes are glossy.

This is the cutest thing I've ever seen as a killa.

I can't help smiling.

"Dem would a find yuh inna the suitcase Mami," I pull her up.

She heaves a sigh. I know she's going to miss me.

I hold her waist from behind and place my face in her neck.

"Mi a go miss yuh too but just know say a just two days me a stay fa," I try to cheer her up. "You yer?"

She doesn't answer.

"You yer?" I look up at her. My face still in the crook of her neck.

Still, no answer.

She's just staring at the clothes in the suitcase that she pressed out.

I place a kiss on her neck. "Nah stay long. I promise. Yer?"

I run my hand through her hair. It's curly and flows down to her ass.

She nods and turn to press her face in my chest. I grab her in a tight embrace, my hand then drops and I grab her ass through the matching joggers she's in.

The only thing mi hate pan har is the cologne.

Sketel Dior.

Hear the man.

"Sorry fi lie down inna yuh suitcase, a just the intrusive thoughts dem did win," she says against my hoodie.

She chose the outfit.