Talk To Me | •Slow Down Sequel•

Chapter 43- Pleasant Surprise

Ayona

Each day was the same, days had been starting to bleed together like colors on the rainbow. I was numb, hopeless, and irritated.

Irritation was my new and improved mood. I couldn't stand being talked to or bothered. My routine was the same, wake up, eat breakfast with Daystar and I'd be off to work. Afterward, I would make dinner and eventually turn in for the night.

Although, Tamika—seeing her over Facetime, for those precious minutes before her bedtime would always make my heart warm up. She was growing so fast, I almost feared she'd be walking by the time we finally dealt with Shania and whoever the other culprit was.

I'd been so preoccupied with my thoughts of nostalgia, that when I'd walked into the apartment for the night that I hadn't realized the mouth-watering smell of spices in the air. It wasn't until I'd been halfway down the hall, past the kitchen, that I'd realized it.

I was confused and shocked. I cocked my head to the side, thinking maybe I'd gone mad. I walked back and sure enough, Daystar was in the kitchen, wearing two oven mittens. He'd been pulling something from the oven, setting it on the stovetop.

When he'd turned around, he smiled. It hadn't been the kind that reached his eyes, instead, it'd seemed like he wasn't sure I'd be so welcoming of something. "I didn't hear you come in. How was work?"

My eyes stayed trained on the aluminum pan, curious. "It was..." As much as I had tried to continue on as if everything was alright, I couldn't. I was just too curious, call me nosey. "Yea—are you cooking?"

He seemed reserved about the question, rubbing his head. He glanced back, "I know you've been stressing and I didn't want you to think you were the only one taking care of everything..."

I smiled, something I hadn't done in days, even weeks. "You didn't have to, but thank you." He nodded, shooing me out of the kitchen. "Go get comfortable, everything should be ready in thirty."

"Okay, okay." All my time with Daystar and I could only count on one hand how many times he'd cooked for me. He wasn't exactly terrible, but he wasn't quite there yet either. I wasn't about to judge him though, I was sure helping me cook meals with him around might've helped him a little.

After all, it was the thought that counted even if it turned out less than editable.

Following my shower, I pulled on my comfortable fuzzy robe, before joining him in the kitchen; only to find that he had set the dining table up. The setting was breath-taking, the lighting was low, he'd had a few candles lit up.

There was chilled red wine sitting on the table, alongside it was his trusty Hennesy; I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He was ridiculous as he'd been sipping on some while I crept up behind him. "Oh, so you just decided to go all out tonight?"

His eyes had been low and bloodshot. And I couldn't understand why seeing him like that made my panties wet, but it'd always made him extremely attractive to me. Some of our best work had been when he'd show up unannounced off his liquor.

A lazy grin graced his face as he rose up, pulling my seat out for me. "You know, how a nigga be getting down," he chuckled. "This smells—mhm." I moaned as words couldn't describe how good the food smelled.

I took my seat, my mouth watering. "I just wanted you to relax when you got home, that's all. With everything going on you been looking down and a nigga just want you to know, no matter what.., I gotchu."

At that point, my cheeks ached at how wide I'd been smiling. I was happy to have him around and in my life.