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Los Angeles, California
FRENCH SAT ON THE SECOND to last concrete step in the backyard of his manor. The California winds that blew were strong, but warm in temperature. It was therapeutic. There was a lot of sand and debris at the side of the house due to it being a beach house, but it didn't take away from the home's beauty.
It was 7:00am and nothing on the street moved. The sun was peeking out but the clouds were not allowing much rays to pass through as of yet. In a white long sleeve Burberry cotton shirt and leaf green Ralph Lauren pants, French stared out at nothing with a glass of wine in his hand, as he just sat deep in thought.
It was what he usually did when he was stressed out or just wanted to think. It's what made him so intelligent, he never panicked under pressure. Something scraped against the concrete behind him, causing him to tense for a half a second before he relaxed himself. He closed his eyes and flexed his jaws before reopening them and slowly looking over his shoulder.
His wife of five years stood behind him, her short boy cut hair fuzzy and in need of a trimming. She was dressed down in one of his cardigans and pajama pants, still somehow managing to look beautiful. He was annoyed, however. She hadn't startled him, but he hated when she sneaked up on him. Especially the times he was carrying a weapon on him. He didn't think he would accidentally ever hurt her out of paranoia, but it was still irritating. "Uki go lay down, I told you stop doing that shit, man."
"I'm sorry, I was just want to spend some time with you. You've been out here for hours." She mumbled, her voice slightly raspy.
French turned back around to glance back toward the nothing in particular he was staring at before, as he loosely massaged his temples. After a moment he got up, taking a big gulp of the alcohol before resting the wine glass beside his foot on the step he was on.
Uki stood tall like he liked his women. He was six foot two and she wasn't far behind at five foot nine. He always liked to feel like he was dating a grown woman, not a little girl. He liked to be able to look down at his woman just slightly, or eye to eye. French stood there analyzing every inch of her, his face seeming cold.
Uki was literally skinny as a toothpick. Her skin was a penny brown, her doe brown eyes large but dark in color. Her breasts were small and her butt was tiny. Her legs were lean and long, seeming endless. Not an ounce of fat was in sight anywhere on her body. French eyed the hair on her head. She had a habit of not taking care of her hair when she was really sick. She just didn't have the energy or the means too.
Sighing, he ran a hand down his face but she didn't notice because she was looking down at the ground, nervously playing with her fingers. He cracked a half smile and licked his lips as he stuck his hand out toward her. "C'mere."
Uki slowly made her way over to him and he slid a hand behind her back, pulling her body flush against his. He lifted her chin and passionately pressed his lips against her's. Their lips seemed to melt into each other. Without a word, French picked up the wine glass and took Uki's hand as they made their way back inside of the house.
