MsBad2TheBone
The night Harlem breathed heavy with summer heat was the night Yara Ortiz decided she was done with love - especially love like his.
Dave was everything the streets loved: tall, brown-skinned, tattoos kissing up his neck, and a mouth that spit rhymes slicker than motor oil. Every girl from 116th to the Heights wanted a piece. And for a while, Yara thought she was different. She thought maybe, just maybe, he'd choose her over the fame, the parties, the late-night calls he never answered.
But dreams don't mean much when your heart is the only one beating.
So she left. Packed her pride into a single duffel bag and caught the first bus out to Philly, where nobody knew her name, and more importantly - nobody knew his.
Dave didn't even know she was gone until a week later, when he pulled up to her block with a bouquet of half-dead roses and saw her window empty, her light off. He had it all, but somehow, he lost the only thing that mattered.