Lateee but whateva', what's your percentage?
The Weekend After🫧🪷
No proofreading nuh gwaan.
Fairview, St. James
Mon, Sept 20th
5:00 PM
AMNIJA KLARITY OTTOMAN
ᴀᴍᴏʏ
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"Amoy mi just get the blood results back, and it's—"
"Wait, Bridget. . .mi nuh siddung," I joked. Truth is, she didn't seem enthusiastic. It's scaring me.
The first thing I craved when I'm stressed is chocolate. Chocolate cake, chocolate cookies, chocolate frappes, chocolate. . . men?
Milk chocolate to be specific, with a dash of caramel, and a soft, slightly heart shaped lips, dreamy, almond eyes, tatted arms....
Focus, Amoy. Focus. We supposed to be stressed right now.
I shook my head, clearing the thought.
Starbucks stood across from the street, and Bridget's face screamed bad news. Crossing the road without getting slapped down felt like an achievement.
"Yuh sit down now?"
"Not yet," I said, trotting towards the building. It's just 5 o' clock and it was already getting dark.
The silence between was killing me. Out of nowhere, the chairs felt miles apart, like some invisible distance had suddenly formed between us.
"It bad?" I asked.
"Yuh nah guh like it," she breathes.
I swallowed hard.
"Jesus," I pushed through the door, the rich smell of coffee wrapping around me like a safety net.
This was exactly what I needed. Even for a second.
My ass landed in a seat.
"Talk now," I say, dropping my phone on the table, my bag sat beside it. My head hanging down, earbuds in my ear. Silence heavy.
YOU ARE READING
AMNIJA
Romance"Comm check... Testing, one... two... Kwes Boaz speaking. ...you a hear me? Ah. You ever wake up and feel like something's...missing? That's my life. Seven years after. Now I'm back, but nothing's the way I left it. Not even me. Amnija happened righ...
