"How about we make this love thing real, yeah?"~Qaphela Makhathini.
In this fleeting span of mortal existence, Ayize and Qaphela are graciously granted another opportunity to love each other. However, circumstances don't appear to be as delightfu...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙴𝙻𝙻 because my relationship is none of your business, Qaphela," I spit harshly.
"Hmmm," he simply hums as he watches me lose my marbles. "This is for you," he states, handing me the gift bag I've been trying to ignore. I involuntarily peek inside and my eyes can't help but catch the box with a green leather exterior with a gold Rolex logo on the lid.
"Qaphela?" I whisper. "You di—"
"It's your birthday, remember?" He shuts me up. "As my woman, you only deserve peculiar pieces."
I heave a sigh of defeat, turning around to fix myself. I always carry wet wipes in my handbag , so I freshen up as much as possible. Knowing I am going to have to do the walk of shame, I redress in my original clothes.
"What!" I snap at Qaphela, who's been shamelessly ogling at me.
"Lutho, you're very gorgeous, it's hard not to stare, ndlovukazi." I wasn't supposed to swoon this hard, but now I am. Cha, lendoda yomZulu ingithakathile. Qiqa did say that languages can be sexually transmitted and now I believe her because why are my thoughts in Zulu?
"Qaphela, please. Forget today ever happened." The words leave an acrid bitterness in my mouth. His eyebrows twist in the sexiest fashion as he sparks up a blunt without removing his eyes from me. The eye locking, minimal lip licking, have me feeling like a second round wouldn't hurt. But, I know better and I am most certainly not a cheater. Oh God! Melumzi would be devastated by my reckless actions. Yhu, umdaka Ayize! I condemn myself.
"Is there a problem kaGxarha?" Qaphela probes, seconds later. He better be joking, right?
"You, you are the problem. You came here and ruined my healing and newly found peace," I think out loud. Well, he really did, in the most concupiscent form.
Reality finally settles in once I look at the crumpled bridal gown. I'm wild, really wild. I wonder what in the succubus demon possessed me to have sex, raw sex, in a fitting room.
"Let me give you space to recollect your thoughts. Just so you know though, I'm coming back for you baby. Come hell or high waters, ungowami," Qaphela declares, turning to kiss me before walking out of the dressing room. The whiff of his delectable scent infused with the scent of marijuana, releases my floodgates.
"Ndisekakeni," lowly, I whisper that I'm in deep shit.
∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎
Smoke clouds my lungs and the space in the car. I inhale, gathering the smoke in my lungs once again, and letting it linger for a bit as I close my eyes. Exhaling, I reopen them and watch as the smoke that once filled my lungs, ventures into the air. Mary Jane always set the mood for me. Crazy how I used to judge stoners and weed heads, but this stuff right here is my coping mechanism.
