you're such a dream to me...
not your typical love story.
inspired by Ariana Grande's r.e.m & the movie Baby Driver.
Chris Brown story ❤️
i suck at descriptions but the story speaks for itself. I PROMISE!
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"And if I told you, "The world is yours" You'd just wanna go to Mars But I cannot sell my soul to prove, it should've been ours And I use my telescope at night, it won't be for stars Instead I hope that I can love, you from a far"
Jazelle lay sprawled across the bed, her body tangled in the sheets as sleep eluded her. The room was a dim cocoon, the soft glow of the streetlights barely filtering through the blinds, casting faint shadows across the walls. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, as her mind wavered between consciousness and restless dreams. Muffled voices slipped into her awareness, distant yet clear enough to stir her.
Blaze's voice, sharp with frustration, cut through the stillness. "Flac can find where we can murk these niggas. Let's just do it now. End this shit."
Jasai's reply was just as heated, though tempered by thought. "They look like some high-level niggas! You ain't thinking straight, Blaze. Someone gon' come looking for them, and you know it."
The tension in his voice was clear, his pacing evident from the sound of heavy footsteps crossing the room. Jazelle's eyes fluttered closed again, the weight of exhaustion pulling her back under before she could fully register the conversation.
Hours later, the atmosphere in the room had shifted. Jazelle stirred, her senses gradually sharpening. The air felt heavier. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed the unsettling scene before her. The two men from the party, their faces swollen and streaked with dried blood, were slumped in chairs at the center of the room. Fear clung to their expressions, their bodies sagging in defeat.
Blaze's knuckles were stained crimson, his fists connecting with one man's face with brutal precision. The sickening thud of flesh meeting bone echoed in the room, each blow deliberate and filled with rage. The man's chocolate skin was now a grotesque mosaic of blood and bruises, his features barely recognizable beneath the swelling.
Jasai leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with a dark detachment. His eyes flicked between Blaze and the broken men, a mix of concern and approval simmering beneath his calm exterior. He had seen Blaze angry before, but this was different.
"You good?" Jasai finally asked, his voice low as he walked over to Jazelle. His presence was grounding, though the chaos in the room was hard to ignore. He handed her a glass of water, his gaze softening when he noticed the confusion clouding her face.
Jazelle's head throbbed, her throat dry as she gulped down the water. The sharp, metallic taste of fear lingered in the back of her mind as she looked between the bloodied men and Blaze's unwavering assault.
"What's going on?" She whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible.
Jasai's jaw tightened. "These niggas drugged you," He said, his voice thick with anger. Blaze's fist collided with the man's nose, the unmistakable crack of cartilage breaking under the force sending a nauseating jolt through her. The man's scream was cut short, his body convulsing in the chair.
