serendipity

insomnia

it was six thirty-five a.m. and i wanted to leave rakim's base. it really nice of him to let me stay at his house for the night but my house was literally 1.5 seconds away from his.

i didn't sleep for three hours meanwhile, rakim, the one who was so hyped to stay up ended up snoring like a bear. i couldn't sleep, my thoughts were keeping me up, and it's not like rakim's snores were helping me either.

thoughts, thoughts, thoughts.

then one thought ran through my mind that concerned me the most; his drawing of me.

was he drawing me okay? did i looked too exhausted for the drawing? why did i say yes? my curls must've been a mess, well shit. was i... pretty? enough for rakim? no. he doesn't care about me like that. we just friends.

my thoughts were eating me alive.

i had nothing else to do than watching the ceiling fan rotating, recycle the cold air roaming around his room, waiting until the morning light peeked out.

i was laying down beside him on his queen sized bed, he grabbed my waist and pulled me closer the few first hours, but when i tried to get out of his grip, his hold was too tight so i let it go, pulling the cream blanket over my cold torso.

sighing, i then began pulling out his braided pigtail that was pressed against his cheek. he groaned lowly, shifting his legs underneath the covers and resuming snoring.

i giggled in my head as i looked at the mark of his hair imprinted on his cheek.

i began unbraiding his long, thick black hair all the way up. i stroked my fingers through his silky wavy hair. "so soft," i purred as i began to finger combed through it.

as i tried to keep myself awake, i began playing with his hair out of boredom. i hope rakim doesn't kill me for unraveling his hair.

he loved his hair. sometimes he pays to go the hairdresser and sometimes he asks me to braid his hair.

since i'm right by him, he always asks me to braid it now. not saying that i'm good at braiding but he built a trust on me when it comes to his hair.

i suggested him more to let his hair out, but he didn't want to, he 'didn't wanted to look like a girl' he said.

but at times he would make me braid his whole head and put it up in a high bun or (rarely) flat iron it.

jealousy hits me, i admit. i wished had my friend's hair.

i began twisting, braiding his hair sloppily as my eyes were getting heavier by minute.

i stopped halfway on his hair as i felt my fingers slip off and placed my hand by my side, his unfinished puffy hair unraveling everywhere as i fell into a deep slumber.