𝐋'𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐔 𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄 / 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋

⋆ 𝐬𝐢𝐱 ⋆

⋆ ☬ ⋆

author's note:
this is another two part chapter. i have some plans after this morneau arc is situated, which should be like 5 more chapters?? idk yet. i hope you guys are enjoying this so far. i've been getting in my head lately about whether its too wordy/overly descriptive, and feels like nothings happening for real but i'm trying to push through and not take it down!!

anyway thanks for tuning in! i will post some more bonus content soon, because i wrote something that i think is kinda cute. but thats like in a few chapters!

comment, vote, share, and gimme besos!

⋆ ☬ ⋆

chapter six
「 shermar 」

bellissima, an upscale restaurant in little italy, was renowned for its exceptional quality and charming atmosphere. yet, on this quiet monday evening in early december, the place was eerily still, save for the rustling uniforms of the staff, busy tending to the rugged group of men occupying their private lounge.

"davion, could i get some sprite? inna triple cup," vashon called to the young waiter darting around, trying to keep busy.

the boy froze a moment. "uhm, we don't have styrofoam cups," his stammered.

vashon kissed his teeth, "just pour it in here, up to that line."

"y-yes, of course, sir."

"and can we get some bread or somethin'? mans hungry, innit." djinn chimed in. "like a likkle appetizer, ya get me?"

"right away, sir," the waiter replied, rushing off.

shermar's leg bounced impatiently as he scrolled through his twitter, the posts blurring together. the lounge was furnished with plush sofas and armchairs, and a beautiful bar area. it was the perfect setting for manipulation and duress.

he was waiting at a large mahogany table, polished to a high shine, adorned with crystal glasses and golden candelabras. a low floral centerpiece added a touch of elegance. beside him, isaiah fiddled with his jacket zipper.

up. down.

up. down.

up. down.

shermar's gaze landed on the gleaming silverware, catching his reflection; eyes obscured beneath the brim of his fluffy black aviator hat, a delicate smirk ghosting the edges of his lips. it even caught the shadow looming behind him, unmistakable.

"a'ight, peep this," isaiah leaned forward, tapping his knuckle against the table. the faint scent of bergamot lingered as he picked up a spoon, using it to mimic hit-hats.

"here you go with this shit," edy grumbled, rubbing a hand over his hooded head, feigning annoyance.

"we know why yo' ass hatin'!"

the low hum of the air conditioning barely masked the rumble of their laughter.

"nah, you gon' stop playin' with me, bitch." edy shot back, leaning forward with a mock-serious expression. "uh, uh, okay..."

shermar listened closely, mind swirling with bars.

edy hit the beat effortlessly.

"okay, okay, okay, i'm drinkin' in my cup, that's a bottle of sangria. knock a nigga out with a two-piece heater. bro, i'm creepin'. i'm pullin' up in a two-seater. can't believe it? you see it, now i'm mothafuckin' eatin'.