IN WHICH, Samira Langston, a single
mother and rising R&B star, clashes
with superstar Chris Brown. Their
rocky start turns into a powerful
connection as they navigate fame,
love, and personal demons.
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THIRD PERSON. Langston Residence—Los Angeles, California.
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❤︎
The soft, ambient glow of candlelight filled the bathroom, casting flickering shadows on the marble walls. The air was thick with the fragrant aroma of lavender and eucalyptus, the scent mingling with the slight musk of burning weed. Steam rose gently from the oversized bathtub, swirling and mixing with the hazy smoke that hung in the air, creating a dreamlike atmosphere.
The bathwater itself was a serene, deep blue, bubbles forming a frothy layer on top, almost obscuring the two figures nestled within. Samira leaned back against the smooth edge, her natural curls framing her face as they hung just above her shoulders, still slightly damp from the water. The blue, silk robe she had discarded earlier now lay crumpled on the floor, a stark contrast against the white marble.
Her large black glasses sat on the edge of the tub, lenses fogged from the heat. Chris sat across from her, his legs brushing against hers under the water. His muscular frame was relaxed, his head resting against the cool marble as he held the blunt between his fingers, his eyes half-lidded with contentment.
The soft strains of D'Angelo's "How Does It Feel" played lowly in the background, the soulful crooning filling the silence between them. The song's rhythm was slow and sensual, a perfect accompaniment to the intimate setting.
Chris took a deep drag from the blunt, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before tilting his head back and blowing out a bunch perfect circles. Samira burst out laughing, the sound echoing lightly off the bathroom walls. Luckily for them, Sadiah was sound asleep in his bedroom, his breathing barely audible through the cracked doorway.
"You the only person I know that's crazy enough to smoke in a damn bathtub." She teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Chris shot her a playful smirk, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "What can I say? I like to live dangerously." He passed the blunt to her, his fingers brushing against hers as he did. "Besides, it's kinda yo fault for makin' the bath so damn relaxin'. Can't help myself."
