"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...
Time has escaped me with the scribble of my pencil. In the blink of an eye it's November. In this past timing, I've completely invested myself deeper into my art. Now at a good length with Chris' book, I've also began a new novel. Planning on broadcasting what I've formulated as of late to my editor and sponsor. The sound mind never sleeps, and I can't seem to do anything properly without my pencil glissading across my paper. While my fingers clutch wretchedly to my number two pencil, my mind drifts to the thought of Chris. Oh how that bump in our pathway has drawn us closer. I've never felt so overcome with emotions and so enwrapped within his being as much as I do now. I knew surely, life is futile without him. I hope with desperate measures he can comprehend just what that is exactly that he means to me. I am so in love with him. A breath without him seems like torture, and I wouldn't want to ever truly experience what it feels like to be genuinely without. Thinking of the angel himself, his presences graces my room. Immediately, I place my notebook and writing utensil down. I want to give him my upmost complete utter attention. He laid beside me, arms swathing around my being to pull me closer to him. Nothing could ever make us any closer than we are. Remotely impossible both literally and figuratively. High, I'm intoxicated by breathing in the air that embellishes my face. I inhale his breathing while he the same. We're one. My urges coerce me as I lose control in my lips scavenging his. Our lips lock, in a sweet serenade. Oh his lips, and the way the feel on mine. Not just what they feel on mine, but how they feel on my skin. I craved for that feeling again. It'd been months since the first installment, and I was craving for more. But, that's the likes of something that doesn't seem to cross his mind. So for now, I'll push aside the issue.
"What're you in here doin' baby?" His raspy voice asked.
"Catching up on my writing. I'm doing my second novel and your book of course. I just got so much ambitious for it today!" I chimed.
"Lemme see!" He took my notebook with the second novel in it.
I watched attentively as his eyes danced across my college ruled paper, not before he hit me atop my head with the notebook.
"Yo, baby what the fuck? You can't just stop writin' right thea'. It was gettin' all good! You left it at a cliffhanger. Shit was about to go down!" He spoke passionately.
I laughed lightly at him as a memory of this exact moment popped in my head.
"You know this happened like eight years ago right?" I giggled.
"Yeah..wow. It's been that long huh?" He chuckled with me as we bore our orbs into one another's.
"Indeed it has, but look. I gotta go show my editor what I'm cookin' up babe. You're welcome to join me!" I got up.
"No, you go ahead. I'm gonna relax here. I got somethin' I gotta do. I'll see you when you get back babe." He pecked my lips so tenderly.
"Alright!"
Gathering my necessities and sliding on my sandals, I headed out to my Maserati. I've missed driving in my ebony beauty. Hopping in, I ignited the engine, buckled off and pulling off towards my editor's office.
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