Distractions (D. SWING)

48

I-95

"Does every sequence we participate in have to start with sex?"

His lips started at my forehead before they treaded down to my neck, somehow he ended up at my cleavage– regardless of giving off the impression that he planned to settle on my shoulder. Laughing, DeVante takes two steps away from me as I take over the role of roaming around our brand new home.

The brand new furniture and décor that swallows the house's rooms bring a homely feeling to our living space. The monochromatic color scheme chosen leaves us with black and white furniture. To accent our interior, an occasional blue is thrown in. The blue rests in separate rooms however, each and every is of the exact same shade. A deep ocean blue would be one's best way to describe the beauty. With his home being mostly decorated in red and my own in green, the color is a compromise for the both of us. I've always gravitated to softer earth tones surrounding my favorite color and though DeVante's main color is black, he understands that he looks best against red and formed a deep appreciation for the boldest of all colors.

Blue; It's as bold as he likes and as cool as I prefer. It's the happy medium for the two of us.

"How many times do we gotta' go over this?"

I throw him a look over my shoulder. "I don't know, how many? Maybe until you get the point through that thick ass skull." I can feel his eyes burning through my flesh as I giggle. My feet take me to the elevator that will take us to the main floor of this place we call ours.

"And after all this time, you think I'm gone listen to you? Maybe it's you who got some shit to get through your thick ass skull?" Our bodies clash as he flings himself against me, causing for me to stumble into the elevator before he catches me from busting my ass. The laughter fueling the small compartment echoes. "Should I fuck you right now in this elevator?"

I turn around and press my button of choice. "If you have to ask, the answer is no." The glisten of my promise ring beneath the elevator's lights bring a smile to my face.

"So if I ask you to marry me–"

I groan. "You always playing too damn much, De, and it's not even a little funny."

It's his favorite joke and though sometimes it'a funny, the timing is always inappropriate. I can't take him serious and I am happy I don't because if I did, my feelings would've been hurt a long time ago. He does it all the time.

"Nel, I'm tryna' ask you some shit. C'mon now!"

Woo, a little testy are we? These are my thoughts until he starts laughing again. Oh, he's just playing around like he always is. "I'm sorry," I laugh with him. I told you, his laugh is contagious. "What do you want?"

"Le– let's get married."

I stop.

He stops as traffic yields our vehicle.

I look at him.

He gazes directly back at me.

We stare at one another for a total of roughly five seconds, saying absolutely nothing, only breathing as we stare back at each other.

My eyes say, DeVante...

His eyes say, Chanel...

Smacking my lips, I shake my head. "Can you not keep playing, De! I'm trying to get all my anger out before I kill your brother and accidentally kill Buffy by stabbing her right in her heart! This is so fucked up!"