Chaos 3| ✔

13|

Let me just say, I apologize for that ratchetness that most of you guys saw. I really don't do the whole back and forth internet thing, but when you have idiots that try to okay some fuckery I have to bite back. I'm done with it now, so dont expect anymore craziness, just some sad, cute, crazy updates.

|Unions.

Blayne

Waking up to the smell of sausage, bacon, eggs, and biscuits immediately put me on alarm, as I slowly rose up in bed. Looking to my left, I saw his usual side empty, as more smells filled my nostrils.

Breakfast food.

I had to have been dreaming.

My first thought was that Rocky definitely ordered some shit, as I continued to adjust my eyes to the bright sun light. I then looked down to see I was still in my black boy shorts and matching bandu bra, before looking to my left.

10:10 A.M.

A loud banging sound now filled my ears, causing me to jump.

"Ah shit! Ha, fuck!"

I immediately jumped out of bed, at the alarming yell of Rocky. Darting into the kitchen, my heart slowly went beating back to normal at the sight of him.

Dressed in his white tee, and black mesh basketball shorts, he stood, leaned against the brown table to the left of the stove, holding his left foot. A black, pan was in his right hand, to which he placed on the table, as he shook his head, before looking up at me. At this point, I was taking in the kitchen, from the open egg cartoon on the counter, two cartons of Florida's Natural orange juice, a single pack of bacon, and sausage, and two glasses, one half filled. The widest smile etched my face, as I veered my eyes back over to him.

"Ayyyy...Papi, papi, papiiii" I cooed, making my way over, planting a kiss on his lips, before tending to his foot.

"Here, lemme see baby" I ordered, pulling out a chair for Rocky to sit on, as I squatted down in front of him.

"Naw it's cool, just dropped the fucking pan on my foot" Rocky groaned.

I couldn't help it.

I snorted.

"Babe...you dropped that heavy ass pan on your foot?" I questioned, referring to the thick, black, cast iron skillet that a few feet away on the kitchen floor.

"What were you doing?" I asked next, focusing back on his foot

"Was tryna put the shit up, bitch fucking fell man....shit" Rocky replied.

"Awww papi" I cooed, with a frown, now holding his foot, examining it.

It looked to be already swelling up.

"Okay, it don't feel broke do it?" I questioned, looking up at him.

Even in his clear, clear distress, he still looked so so good.

So damn good.

"Hell Yeah it do. I can't even fucking move it" Rocky replied.

"Wiggle your toes" I suggested, as Rocky smacked his lips.

"What? Come on, wiggle those manicured toes for me. Come on daddy. Wiggle"

Rocky did so, as I found myself snorting.

"Yo, a nigga up here tryna cook for you, he fuck his foot up in the process and you laughin? Aight, cool"

I shook my head at Rocky's clear pouting, as I shook my head.