Beyond Music

Unexpected

Malcolm and I were entwined in each other's arms, lost in a peaceful slumber. I stirred awake to the warm rays of the morning sun, its fiery fingers caressing my face. But Malcolm remained in a deep, undisturbed sleep, completely oblivious to the outside world.

I tried to shift away from the blinding light, but Malcolm's strong grasp held me in place.

"Don't leave," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

"I'm not going anywhere," I reassured him, smiling at his possessive nature. "I just need to escape the sun's glare."

Malcolm chuckled mischievously. "I have the perfect solution for that."

I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Do you now?" I questioned with a devilish smile; turning over to face Malcolm.

"Yes," he replied with a sly grin. And with that, he pulled me closer and planted a passionate kiss on my lips, greeting me with a "Good morning" like no other.

Our connection was raw and unbreakable. While we knotted in each other's embrace, I couldn't help but be in awe of the intricate web of our bond and the profound sentiments that flowed between us.

Malcolm and I, two souls, merged in an shatterproof bond, ready to take on whatever challenges life threw our way, or so it seemed. But there was still something plaguing my mind. Just as I was about to confront Malcolm about the suspicious blood on his shirt, my alarm clock blared, jolting me out of my thoughts and into reality.

The shrill sound reminded me that it was time to start my day, to push aside my doubts and move on with my routine.

"Ok, ok, ok," I grumbled to my alarm clock, trying to drown out its relentless noise. "I hear ya, I'm getting up."

I could hear Malcolm's phone ringing in the next room, him casually picking it up and answering with a smooth "Hello."

I didn't want to interrupt him while he was on the phone, so I forced myself to busy myself with mundane tasks.

I headed to the bathroom, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine.

As I sat down on the toilet to relieve myself, I was suddenly overcome by a horrid sensation. My stomach churned and twisted, and before I could even process what was happening, I was doubled over, retching into the toilet bowl.

The stench of vomit filled the small room, and I could feel my throat burning as I heaved up everything I had eaten for the past few days. But as I knelt there, gasping for air and tears streaming down my face, I couldn't help but wonder - was it just a coincidence that this sudden sickness came at the same time as Malcolm's suspicious behavior?

There was a loud and urgent knock on the bathroom door, startling me from my thoughts. I quickly turned off the faucet and wiped my wet hands on a towel before opening the door. Standing there was Malcolm, his usual suave demeanor replaced with a look of concern.

"Aye Camille, are you okay in there?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

"I'm fine," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just got sick. I don't think my dinner from last night agreed with me."

"Okay," Malcolm said, visibly relieved. "Take your time, I'll be waiting outside."

As I closed the door, I let out a sigh of relief. I hated being sick, especially when I had plans for the evening.

I turned on the shower and let the hot water cascade down my body, I started to feel better. The steam filled the bathroom, making it feel like a sauna. I turned on some smooth R&B music, letting the soothing beats wash over me.