A Rose In Harlem

40

"Don't speak like that" was all Bishop could say. "It's not- you can't"

"Don't worry bout it — I'm gonna handle it"

All Bishop did for the next two hours was worry. He was trying to be in the kitchen and cook, make sure Chicago didn't move and try to see updates for Lincoln. Eventually Acadia sent him a photo from earlier- of course after they got him away from Chicago Acadia insensitive ass took a photo. But all Bishop could do is gasp. The way the blood was splattered across his face and leaked from his nose, his lip split in half and it looked as if the man lost a tooth. Shit maybe more. "Oh my god" he whispered to himself. He glanced over at Chicago then back at the picture. "Oh my god— why did you hit him like this" he spoke more to himself. But Chicago heard him, how could he not. The kitchen wasn't that far from where he sat rolling up. He was in his head still but Everytime Bishop spoke even if it was just singing to himself in Spanish his ears focused on that. Bishop looked at the picture for a bit more before responding to Acadia and going back to cooking.

"Bubba?"

"Ian leave Bishop damn" Chicago mumbled and Bishop only smacked his lips together and let out a dramatic sigh. "Wassup baby" Chicago fixed his tone and his words and turned his head to look at the man in the kitchen. Oh bishop you need to stand up. All bishops could think about was being bent over any surface moaning the man's name.

"I thought you said you don't fight"

"I don't"

"Oh— well I mean you've been in quite a few since we met"

"Ion like to fight— I use to as a kid.. before I got my shit in check" he answered truthfully. "But fighting is pointless and only leads to mess and a cycle of anger and violence"

"And shooting?"

"Ends the problem and gets you out of there fast. At least for me I don't tend to black out when I'm shoot- I don't wanna talk about this with you actually" Chicago responded and finished rolling his blunt. This caught Bishop off guard, he rarely said that— after Bishop found out about Sly, the only thing Chicago didn't talk about or pay any mind to is when Bishop brought up the thought of Chicago hurting him.. even if it was a joke.

"What why?"

"Cause I don't"

"That's not fair! You walked broke up with me because-

"Nigga what?" The words flew out of Chicagos mouth like daggers and his eyes followed with a confused face. Bishop only huffed and shut the fridge door closed turning around about to curse him out, spatula in hand.

"You better stop calling me Nigga like I'm some random-

"My bad baby— you just speaking bullshit" he complained "cause when did i ever say i was done with your ass?"

"You said dead it—

"The damn conversation. But I ain't finna make your ass stay with a nig-

"What?" Bishop asked and Chicago smirked slightly at his joke.

"I'm playing damn.. I got you Baby, I mean that. A little argument ain't gonna keep me from you"

"You promise?" Bishop mumbled. "And you wasn't showing me no love— it hurt my feelings" he added before turning around and continue to cook. He didn't hear anything, and he thought the conversation was done until he felt the man turn him around and pull him into him who leaned against the island. Chicago pressed a kiss to the man's cheek as his hands drifted down to the man's butt. His eyes were soft, his face didn't have a mean look to it— this was the Chicago Bishop loved.