Trippie Redd and XXXTentacion OneShots

A Love Letter To... Me?

"Michael, get ya fat ass up off the couch and go get the mail! I told y'all like five times already but ya headass just sit there playing them dumb video games!" Michael's mother called from the kitchen as she grabbed another snack. This was not the first time she'd come by telling him to retrieve the mail from the mailbox, but Michael wouldn't budge—until now, that is. Groaning in disdain, Michael rolled off of the brown, fuzzy couch in the small living room, flopping onto the floor. Black dreadlocks fell around his face like a mop, covering it as he face-planted into the carpet. Soon enough, however, he mustered the motivation to get up and walk outside.

Blinding sunlight hit the white concrete, causing Michael to squint his eyes. Foliage covered nearly the entire small yard, only patches were left with grass. It's as if the house was designed just to engulf the people living in it, isolating them into a secluded jungle fortress.

But they just had to leave the driveway uncovered... brilliant.

Quite literally.

With watery, burning eyes, Michael finally reached the mailbox at the end of the short driveway, beginning to adjust to the sunlight, just as he had to return indoors. Opening the squeaky, spring-locked door, he walked in. He started to remove his shoes before the door slammed behind Michael and hit him in the ass, nearly making him topple over. He'd ended up dropping one of the numerous letters he carried. However, this letter didn't appear to be any old letter. This was a piece of paper tri-folded and dotted with a million little black hearts. Blue lines clashed with the design on the paper, as notebooks always do.

Curiosity struck the teenager, and he carelessly dropped the rest of the bills and letters onto the kitchen table before walking away to his room. His eyes remained glued on the folded notebook paper the entire time.

Wait a minute, is this even for me?

Michael had a crucial realization that this may not even be for him as his mother was divorced, and could easily have another boyfriend by now. Aggressively, the slim teenager turned the paper over to see his name written in bold, overly decorative letters:

Who the hell...?

Michael locked his bedroom door behind him as he entered his room so he could look at this interesting letter in peace. Adrenaline courses through him as his pulse increased. This could either be a good thing or a bad thing. Michael could either have a lover or a stalker right now. Anyone less than insane would agree that it would be better to have a lover. Opening the folds of the frail notebook paper, the teenager was shocked at what he found inside. Three or four other papers fell out, fortunately all marked with numbers. Whoever wrote this sure put a lot of effort into it if they had the thought to number the papers... hell, just writing this much would be painful.

"Michael...

Short, simple, and sweet. I'll put it this way, I love you. I've observed recently that you've been taking interest in a certain someone, and I can only hope that it was me. I'd hope that you'll allow me a few words. For one, I apologize for not reading the signs beforehand and causing you to need to remove yourself from my life. Two, I would appreciate it very much if you would allow me to share my feelings with you.

I remember every little detail. When my best friend pushed me right into you, that glare in your eyes was the funniest thing ever. Until I apologized, you were pissed. A fair word of warning though, it's hard to be threatening when you're as adorable as you are. Your big, bright brown eyes could never be anything but precious to me.

Now, three moths later I find myself completely enamored with you. One day I remember we had a particularly hilarious lunch hour together, and people around kept making fun of your laugh. I didn't tell them to stop then, and may have even agreed that it was ugly, but in honesty I regret that decision. The sadness and insecurity in your eyes made me hurt. Your laugh is far beyond just unique, and it's possibly the most adorable, stupid laugh I've heard in my life.

Don't get me wrong! I love it, that's why I kept trying to make you laugh again and again... but after that day you hadn't laughed so hard again. In fact, you seemed offish and shy to this present day.

I suffered in the time you decided to distance yourself. Trust me, by now, I had somewhat gotten the clue there was some sort of deeper feelings here, but that's why I started trying to keep you around. Although you acted like I was annoying you.

But Michael, I could just see the pain in your eyes. We haven't talked since you met Jarad. I thought you'd be better off with someone you could understand better, and here I am, still pining for you. I do not know whether or not you two are together yet, but I miss you already, and I haven't even known you for half of a year...

I hope that you would speak to me again after reading this. Although I'm sure I'm still not the best choice for you. Aggression, depression and jealousy sure get the best of me at times. I apologize for scaring your chance at a girl away. I was only jealous... but I'd only hope that she and anyone else would be some form of distraction from me...

That's just wishful thinking.

Michael, there are a million more words I could say about how apologetic I am for causing all of these problems, but I should now focus on you.

You.

The reason I've begun to believe in love again. For a moment. The reason for all of my pain and all of my regrets at the moment...

Michael.

The reason I'm writing this love letter to you right now, forcing my right hand to do the work it never could in class. Fiery pain shooting through my hand. But you're the reason I don't care about that. I'd do this for you and only you.

Michael White.

I'd fiend the future where I'm holding you. Just being together, wherever it may be, be it the warm, sandy beach or the lowly streets of the city, or anywhere in between. The future where I'd cup your face in my hands and feel the heat between us. One where time would stop and we'd feel like we had the world to ourselves. I'd keep you and I'd protect you with my life and all I own. The stories you shared while you talked to me were deep beyond any comparison with anyone I know... and I want so desperately to share a place in those stories. The tale of your life, one you'll tell to people as they pass through your life.

Michael Lamar White...

I love you, it's as simple as that...

A love letter to you, from a weirdo you know well...

Jahseh.

Thoughts couldn't even be placed in Michael's head as he read over and over the words scrawled all over the pages. Michael could have sworn Jahseh hated him. Three months ago they'd met at lunch after Stokeley, Jahseh's best friend had been messing around with him, and Michael had nearly been flattened onto the ground.

Yet unexpectedly, after three months of the most confusing friendship ever lived, Jahseh had these feelings for Michael. Michael had feelings for Jahseh since a week into knowing him, and thought the older teenager wanted nothing to do with him.

Apparently, all this odd behavior was simply because of this attraction to Michael...

Still, Michael had no idea what to think, he was far too starstruck to have a response in his mind. However, one question did remain. Michael pulled his phone out of his pocket, finding Jahseh's contact in his messages before sending a short text:

"Why didn't you just text me?"