proud
praʊd/
adjective
1.
feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one's own achievements, qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely associated.
Him? Proud of me?
I've lived a lot lies in my time and I know f...
"Fashionably late I'm guessing? " I say with an irritated tone. It's 7 in the evening, the sun is setting, and this is the time he wants to show up. It's like he wants a repeat of last time, where he apparently 'couldn't drive in the night because he could get robbed'.
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
"I had to stop for gas because I was running low. It takes a long time for me to get from Brooklyn to here.." Drake says with a slightly guilty look on his face. I step aside to let him in and then I follow him into my living room.
"So is there a reason you changed your mind so suddenly or...?" Drake says with a confused look.
I slightly sprint towards his car, catching the door mid-slam. I hold up a finger so I could catch my breath for a second, before I start to rant at him. I adjust my high ponytail slightly as it always goes pear shaped when I 'try' to run.
Note that it's try to run. We've never been a good runner, more of the jog around the compound once in a while type.
"AUBREY. Stop walking away!! It doesn't do anything but make the problem worse jeez." I scream rolling my eyes at his pettiness.
"Okay Okay Onika. Let's talk then okay. Why me huh? Always ignoring me. Acting like I don't exist one minute, then running back clinging on to me too much. Move Nicki, I have a life to live with billions to spend."
He roughly removes my hand from his car door then stares back at me, giving me a you-better-apologise-right-now-or-I'm-leaving expression. I stare back at him with the same looking, but adjusting myself with my hands on my hips. In addition, I cock my eyebrows to show that I will not give up without a fight.
