run of the mill.

27th

T answered the door when Shawn came by. He was leaned against the door jam smiling at nothing in particular and everything at the same time. He had everything in the world to smile about. He just gave up one of the most annoying people in his life and traded, if you will, her for someone much better. Someone beautiful, kind, fun, understanding, and all of those other things that people look for in a woman. It was a nice situation to be in. It was a damn good reason to be smiling at nothing in particular.
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"Shawn," T greeted, smiling a little. She reached out and hugged him.
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"Hey when did you get in?"
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T turned and walked back into the room. "Just now."
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Beyonce smiled up at him from her desk. She hopped up and brushed past T to wrap her arms around his cold frame and open her lips to him. Shawn obliged, letting her hop and wrap her legs around him. This was what he wanted. This woman, in his arms like this was what he needed.
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"Oook," T said. She wondered what she had missed in the course of one damn weekend. When they made no move to separate or acknowledge her presence, T grabbed a jacket some her purse. "I'm leaving," she called but neither of them bid her farewell. She wondered if that was how Chris and she acted. Na, she decided that they were much more tasteful.
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Beyonce held on fast to his neck while he dangled her in the air. "Hi," she grinned in a bashful manner than tightened Shawn's groin.
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He grinned and let her down after a while. Beyonce helped him shrug out of his jacket and hung on one of the hooks behind the door. He thought she was done taking off his clothes but Beyonce grinned at him and grabbed the hem of his shirt. She pulled it over his head and chuckled at the questioning grin he had on his face. He wanted to know what she was doing, not that he had a problem with it so far.
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Beyonce pushed him to the bed. "If I'm going to be your girl," she sat him down and pulled his shoes off. Beyonce sat on his lap and pulled his wife beater over his head until he had on nothing but his jeans and socks. "I need to know everything about you."
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Shawn grinned and didn't fight her pushing hands. He lay down. "Oh yeah?"
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Beyonce smiled and settled herself over his pelvis. She felt friction between her legs and almost gave in to her desire to grind her body into his. She realized that it was not the time for that. Her nod was a response. "My job is to know everyyy scar, everyyy bump, everyyything."
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Shawn watched Beyonce rub her hands over his chest and arms carefully as though she was choosing one scar to start with. His hands rubbed her thighs through her jeans and he looked over her lovely torso, eyeing the sensual bra she wore. "Your job hunh?"
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Beyonce nodded again. "Yep."
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Shawn sat up and kissed her lips. Beyonce giggled against him, pushing herself as close as she could get. Well as close as she thought she could get at that time. She could get closer. Much closer.
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"What happened right here?" she asked, hold his right hand and showing him the scarred knuckle. Shawn followed her eyes and smiled at the tiny piece of skin brighter than the rest.
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"I got in a fight. My first fight."
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Beyonce grinned, she was interested. "How old is this scar?"
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Shawn shrugged. "Um, bout fourteen years old."
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Beyonce made a face and decided that she didn't like the idea of him fighting when he was seven. But she said nothing, simply progressed down his body. Beyonce found a mark on his left triceps. "And what's this one?"
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Shawn made a peculiar face and shrugged. "I got a vaccination for this crazy ass allergic reaction I had."
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"What are you allergic to?"
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"Peanuts."
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Beyonce nodded and wrote it in her memory. "What else are you allergic to?"
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"That's it baby."
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"Baby," Beyonce weighed the word in her mind. She grinned down at him and then giggled. "I like it."
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Shawn just chuckled at her antics and let her continue to search all around his body for any imperfections that he might have been able to explain. The scar you could barely see from the stitches in his chin after Tommy Garrison pushed him off the monkey bars. The scab on his right elbow from dirt biking with some white dudes his freshman year... the small stab wound just underneath his rib from helping Deals, or David, get away from some bad drug dealers.
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Beyonce studied him like a class. She knew everything there was to know about his anatomy by the time it was over, and he was in nothing but his boxers.
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When Shawn sat up on her bed and kissed her lips, he told her it was his turn to learn everything he could learn about her. Beyonce laughed and called him a copycat but Shawn was not put off. He kissed her chest and shoulder and neck while she held onto him loosely. "I wanna start with this scar," he kissed her chest, directly between her plump breasts and over her heart. Shawn lifted her long sleeve shirt over her head.
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Beyonce made a confused face ad followed his eyes. "Which scar? I don't see one."
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Shawn caught her eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist, pushing her six pack against his eight. She smiled, waiting patiently for him.
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"... Why don't you sing anymore?"
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Beyonce went stiff in his arms. Her smile fell from her face like it was parachuting and she lost all the beautiful wonder in her eyes. That glee was gone from her spirits and it made her dorm room feel just like his bedroom had when he asked her the first time. It even seemed to get a little quieter out in the hall. It was not normal for everything to be so... creepy and distant in her room.
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Shawn held fast to her, even when her arms dropped from his shoulders and her head backed away from his. "Why?" she said in a voice Shawn didn't understand. It sounded nothing like the woman he knew. This was a stranger talking to him.
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"Because I need to know."
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Beyonce pulled against him gently and let her eyes wonder elsewhere. He was not to be put off. He held her tighter and forced her small waist to remain in his arms. Beyonce looked at the bedspread underneath them and sighed when she realized she would be let go without a little more than gentle coaxing. "I just grew up, Corey."
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Shawn hated when he called her by his full middle name. It irked his nerves because he loved to hear his personal nickname on her voice. It was like a song. One he didn't want to be easily forgotten.
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"...My mom sings."
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Shawn made a face. "Vivian?"
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"... No, my real mom."