The Price ࿊f Peace

☮️: 036

Somewhere in Oakland ⚠️
Extremely long chapter

Pulling up to Kisses' house was easier than she thought it'd be. Her predisposition to being irritated had slightly dissipated as she drove and listened to music.

She all but threw her car in park when she recognized Elijah's Mercedez truck, and hopped out with her purse on her shoulder.

She knocked on his passenger side's car door immediately, wasting no time to climb into it, and shut the door behind her.

Her hands were on his face immediately, climbing over the console to bury her face in his neck, and straddle him in the drivers' seat.

His hand was on her back, under her hoodie to rub on her bare back, save for her bra.

Her slides were left in the passenger seat, and her fuzzy socks were warming the sides of his legs, as he squeezed her tight to him, breathing into her shoulder.

They sat in silence for a while, and Elijah was silently thanking himself for remembering to tint his windows darker, he didn't know how he would explain this, and he didn't feel like answering questions right now.

He wanted privacy to figure it out themselves.

For now, all he knew was this was his baby.

Syara was feeling a calm she hadn't felt in a while. Like hours. She missed him bad when she was out and about.

She breathed in his scent, reaching down to grab his hand and place it on her behind from where it was on the back of her neck. She didn't quite know why, but she liked it when he rubbed her behind.

"I missed you." She told him, muffled into his hoodie. She was drifting off, immediately; extremely close to falling asleep in his arms.

"I missed you." His hand made its way back up to her hair to massage her head, bringing the one he had on her back down to her ass.

Elijah dropped little kisses on her forehead, and holding her tight to him.

They stayed like that for a moment, until Syara pulled up his hand to check his watch and smacked her lips. Her phone rang, signaling it was time to get going.

She pulled it from her pocket, swiping before checking the caller ID. "What?"

"Where you at?" The first thing Syara noticed was the noisy background. It was already making her head hurt to think about going in there.

She pressed her eyes tighter together, croaking out. "Who all in there?"

"Just the homies, a few shorties, her roommate got some people here, some nigga Kisses' fuck wit' brought his niggas. They waitin' on Mir for some shit." Camarro told her. "Kisses and 'nem waiting on you for the flour."

"Where you at, G?" Syara sighed into the receiver at the question.

"I'm on my way in," she stretched in Elijah's lap, lifting her head out of the crux of his shoulder. "Gimme a minute. Ima be in there."

Elijah looked up at her as she spoke, holding her hips, and remaining relaxed in his seat. In his mind, they could wait.

"Fasho, brother." Camarro responded before the dial tone signified the ending of the call.

Syara groaned under her breath. "I hate extra niggas."

Elijah chuckled lowly. "You hate everybody, mama."

Syara tilted her head in agreement, climbing back over the center console to the passenger seat. He left a tap on her ass.

"You're not wrong." She replied, gravely, willing herself to get out of the truck.