How Do U Want It?

xxvii

I woke up with Eazy's arms wrapped around me. No, we didn't have sex. He didn't try to have sex with me, we just didn't.

I was secretly hoping Dre didn't notice the two of us go missing last night; there were 3 rooms. Dre, Eazy and Yella in one, Ren and Cube in one, and I had my own. I hope they just assumed he was in one of the other rooms.

If Dre found out what's currently going on between Eazy and I, he'd have a cow and chicken. Probably even more than that.

Laying there with tired eyes, I watched Eazy's chest rise up and down as he breathed. He was sound asleep. I took my index finger and started to draw invisible circles on his shoulder with my nail.

It was somewhat cute, Eazy wasn't skinny, but he wasn't fat either. He was just short and kind of chubby and thick, like a muffin.

I silently giggled at my thought and I turned my head to the night stand where Tupac's gift sat. Shifting a little bit, I was able to use both my hands to grab it. I pulled the blue bow, and opened the box in which a folded up paper was inside.

I grabbed it, and it said 'To: Ebelle' on the front. Opening it, a body of text was revealed - a poem!

I don't have everything

As a matter of fact I don't have anything

Except a dream of a better day

And you to help me find my way

Being a man I am sure to make mistakes

But to keep you I would do all it takes

And if it meant my love was really true

I'd gladly die and watch over you

I wish you knew how much I cared

You'd see my love is true by the life we'd share

Even if you changed your mind and said our love was thru

I'd want to die, continuously cry because I still love you

Speechless, I stared at the poem in deep thought. I think I even shed a tear while chills rippled through my torso. There was something else in the box, I folded the paper and set it aside. Reaching my hand in the box, I pulled out a Polaroid picture.

It was us - Tupac and I.

It was taken off guard, so I think that's why I don't remember it. Him and I sat on a porch, which looked like mine back home. We both had smiles on our face but neither one of us were looking at the camera. I turned the photo around, where I found writing, '4/13/86 ... I miss days like these. If you're not ready, I understand. I'd wait a million years and a day; if it meant being with you."