❛ swear to god we put em in the pound
and this shit won't stop like fuck what the opps
say, yeah. they shot. only love for my niggas
the ones from my block. ❜
𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 • 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐎, 𝐈𝐋 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝟏𝟗, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗
Smoke from the grill curled into the air, mixing in with the loud laughter and the bass of LA Capones Play For Keeps poured from the speakers.
Red cups were in every hand, the whole block alive with Juneteenth celebrations. Harlem was perched on the roof of Duke's truck, her jet black bundles moving with her as she went bar for bar with the song.
The roof of the GMC Yukon SLT was hot under her palms but she didn't care. She was having too much fun. Her cup sat untouched beside her as she stretched her legs out, her floral Gucci slides tapping against the side each time she kicked.
Duke leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed as he talked to two of his friends – Von and Muwop. His deep laughter rumbled through the air, but his eyes constantly flicked back to her.
She felt his gaze even when she wasn't looking—it was heavy, deliberate.
Kael, standing off to the side with her sister Brianna, caught the dynamic immediately. "Look at him," she whispered, nudging Brianna. "He ain't even trying to hide it no more. Duke don't let nobody sit on that car, but he gon' let Harlem do whatever she want round this bitch."
Brianna laughed softly, shaking her head. "Right. I bet he'd let ha' ass get away with murder. Can't say I blame her, Von the same with me and Marcus like that with yo' ass."
Kael smirked and raised her cup. "Yo, Harlem!" she called out over the music. "You know it's gon' be some bitches that's mad with you 'bout my brother now. You know how them hoes get."
Harlem shot her a look, her lips curving into a smirk. "Those his hoes, not mine. He the one that's gotta answer to 'em."
Kael grinned, but her eyes glinted with mischief. "You right – but they all know how he coming behind you. Nigga got a big ass soft spot and we all see it."
Harlem ignored her, turning her attention back to the music, but she couldn't ignore the heat crawling up her neck. She knew Duke was watching, and she hated how aware of it she was.
Before one of them could speak, Duke walked over, his diamond chain catching the sunlight as he moved.
"What they got you drinking?" Duke asked, nodding at her cup as he leaned against the hood beside her.
"Couldn't tell you, somebody handed it to me," Harlem replied with a shrug. "Haven't even tasted it yet."
"Good," Duke said, his voice low and smooth. "Ion need you to be drinking whatever these niggas mixing out here."
