"Phabi, you know I hate to write. Fuck, why do you think I dropped out of Highschool? But I made you a promise. I promised I'd do anything to make you happy. And if that means writing you a story then so be it. My little Edgar Allen Poe." I began re...
"I really don't feel comfortable taking a photo of you like this Phabi." I voiced my opinion.
"You're bein' no fun baby." Her island twang cascaded through her words.
"Man whateva'! I just know I bet' not see no niggas all over yo' shit when you post this." I replied snapping the picture.
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"All my followers are gonna freak!" She exclaimed grabbing her phone from me.
Currently, we were readying ourselves for a small outing. Just to acquire some info on how "Epiphany" is selling. In the course of a little over a week, she's been buzzing around Bridgetown. Phabi's been advertising herself, me, and as well as her book on social media in which she's obtained a crazy amount of people following her profile. It makes me uncomfortable, but what can a nigga really do in relation to the predicament at hand? My own counterclaim is that it really isn't a problem, I'm just an insecure boyfriend and I'm not too fond of admitting that shit. I had a moratorium on me for fifteen years of not being able to express a nigga's emotions and shit towards her. Now that I'm enabled, I allow that to be my downfall at times. Just because I feel as though at any given moment she would, and could up and leave me for someone better. Men swoon over her aura and immaculate exotic looks. A nigga just don't know what to do with hisself pertaining to Phabiola Fenty.
"You gon' put a shirt on so we can blow this joint babe?" I wondered, as she sashayed over to the bed where her top was.
"Yeah, I am." She responded.
So caught up in my infatuation of just observing her movements and how her stray tendrils fly as she pops her head through the neck hole of her top. Or just the glisten of her olive skin when the sun shimmers upon it. Anything to deal with the epitome of my girlfriend. I barely gave recognition to her uttering to a nigga because I was paying attention to her.
"Huh, oh ready?" I reached my hand out as I snatched the keys from her dresser.
Her fingers intertwined with mine, while we waltzed down the stairs. We were surprisingly greeted with the company of the family. All of which were busying themselves into their on activities. We voiced our goodbyes as we were out the door, driving downtown to the most local bookstores.
"Chris, I have a new knock joke." Phabi giggled as I merged into the expressway.
I lightly shook my head glancing at her beautiful essence for a short lived moment.
"Go for it." I smiled as I returned focus on the open road.
