I just got in from work, ripping the company cap from my hair I flopped down on the sofa which sunk quickly under my weight. Pulling my Polo over my head I absentmindedly opened my ancient laptop, powering it up to check my emails to see if my e-shedule arrived.

It was slow and took almost five minutes to finally turn on, but I had gotten it for basically peanuts. When I had changed from my work clothes into shorts and an old T-shirt, and came back to the sofa to check the progress, the laptop was still booting up.

It was one of the things I'd bought at a yard sale last year when I moved into the apartment. I had made my way to the city with basically nothing, all I had was a few clothes, toiletries and a few dollars that had bought me food for a few days before I had to stay at a women's center while I looked for a job.

At the time Cumberland seemed like a blessing, and I spent almost a year. Gritting my teeth when I felt like screaming at the injustice. All in the name of saving for my education and keeping a roof over my head, after I was back on my feet I made sure to visit the shelter when I could and take whatever groceries I could buy, as a gesture of gratitude.

I was scrolling through my emails when I heard quarreling. Usually I minded my business and I especially hated confrontations since I tried to avoid it like the plague. But after there was a loud banging that shook the paper thin walls, my suspicions were confirmed.

It was from next door, and judging by the low calm reply to the frenzied, loud female with a distinct accent. I knew it was Rakim. My mind started going crazy, coming up with scenarios;

Lovers quarrel, scorned ex lover? Baby momma? Wait did he have kids?

I listened as the door was flung open, banging loudly on the wall before ricocheting in a slow creak of the old hinches . The loud noise caused me to jump, I began to get angsty. The angry stomp of feet crossing my doorway was heard and against my better judgement I ran to my door flinging it open just in time to see a petite dark-skin, glaring in my general direction.

I swung my head to the left, my hair swishing to block my vision, I brushed it away absentmindedly and focused on Rakim who was standing in the hallway, his face emotionless as the elevator door dinged close.

When his eyes met mine, I watched as a strange emotion flashed in them, before disappearing quickly. His features changed from expressionless and unfeeling to something akin to tiredness.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing I was walking towards him, my feet carrying me across the carpet quickly at first then slowing as uncertainty clouded my mind.

What was I doing?

"Hey," I watched as his eyes seemed to focus on me, he looked a little out of it. He stared too long at certain things, like how he had glanced down at my bare feet and my shirt for more than a few seconds. It was like he was lost in his mind and I didn't like it, I recognized the look and at the moment being lost in his mind was the last thing he needed.

"Is everything okay?" I continued, the words finally seemed to register and he looked at me, a tad bit more awareness in his eyes before turning away to walk towards his apartment.

He paused before turning to look at me, he seemed to consider it for a while before speaking, "Come." He said evenly. It wasn't a question, it didn't sound like a question. And I didn't even pause to question it, before common sense could take over. I followed him, a little too quickly into his apartment.

"Close the door."

I don't know why I automatically did what he said, maybe it's the way he said it... smooth and sure. That was what he wanted, and I automatically wanted it too. I closed the door softly behind me, turning again to face him, shuffling on my feet nervously while the weight of my actions dawned on me.

Did I just follow a stranger -who was just in a fight with a woman- into his apartment?

Did I just...close the door behind me? Successfully blocking my only escape route?

What the hell...

I surveyed the room, just to take my mind off of how sporadically I had jumped into the slowly growing awkward situation. The layout was the same as mine, only it was furnished so much better and cleaner than I thought it'd be. Except from a fallen vase at the sofa table.

He must have followed my gaze, "I'll clean that up," I watched as he disappeared around the little passage that was identical to mine, returning with a vacuum.

I watched him clean up the mess, I had nothing better to do and I was also trying to read him. It wasn't an easy thing to do, I still can't tell if he was even effected by what had taken place just fifteen minutes ago. He was wearing black nike sweats that had two white stripes going down the side, his T-shirt was just a basic white crew neck.

He was tall and suave and the sweats hung low on his hips.

When the vacuum stopped I forced myself to look away, my gaze fell on the abstract art piece that hung on the wall across from me, it was obviously cubism. It depicted a black male, maybe a little boy, and he was holding onto his head while imp-like figures swirled around him in dark swirls of color.

It was grim, but It resonated with me for some reason.

"You can take a seat, would you like a beer?" He had an accent, I noticed it before, but now when he spoke slowly it was more pronounced.

"Yeah sure," I gingerly made my way to the sofa, still apprehensive about the broken glass I'd seen earlier, I was still barefoot. I sat on the sofa, almost falling off the edge, I wasn't used to going over to other people's houses and I didn't know how to act, a part of me still felt like I was intruding.

I was pulled from my thoughts by a droplet of cold water on my thigh, I looked up to see his hand outstretched, his fingers curved lightly around a bottle of ice cold lager.

I took it from him mumbling a quick thanks as I avoided his eyes. He sat in the sofa opposite mine, leaning back to silently study me. All that filled the house was the rumble of the air conditioner and the sound of him taking a swig from his bottle.

"So you've just met Ericka, she's angry I wasn't cooperating when she tried to play the big sister role." He spoke finally.

Something like relief and mild curiosity coursed through me at the little knowledge, and my mind happily accepted it. Disregarding all the earlier crazy thoughts about baby mommas and ex lovers.

"Maybe you should just play along. Maybe she's worried about you?" I found his eyes, watching him carefully as I spoke.

He held my gaze for a long while before taking another swig of beer, "Maybe," He said dismissively, I was reminded that my beer was still untouched. I don't know why I didn't just tell him I don't drink. Because I don't, and now he probably thinks I thought he drugged it or something.

As if he was reading my thoughts he spoke again "You don't drink do you?" He eyes sparkled knowingly, his lips quivered as if he was trying to fight back a smile.

I shook my head no, "I don't even know why I don't just say so. I don't usually find myself in these situations." I mumbled, color no doubt spreading across my cheeks.

"What? Are you saying you don't usually follow strangers into their apartment? I'm honored." He was teasing me and I'd be embarrassed if it wasn't for the fact that it was a welcome changed from the Rakim a few minutes ago, withdrawn and even more mysterious than usual.

"Sorry to burst your bubble but I'm the Serial Arriverer there's a long list of apartments over New York that have been christened with my presence and their owners are all eagerly awaiting my return." I said, handing my beer to him, and sitting back a little on the sofa.

He threw his head back and laughed. It was the first time I've experienced his laugh, and I'd already decided I'd readily come up with corny jokes again just to hear it. It ended abruptly, replaced by a small smile, when he'd finally caught me watching him. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"If I didn't know any better I'd probably think you put yourself in these awkward situations for some sort of sick thrill. But you seem like a good girl." He uncovered a bag from the coffee table, pulling out a pre rolled joint, "Do you mind?" I shook my head no again. He lit up and took a long drag, the smell wafted up to me and I inhaled deeply. It smelled sweet and strong.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." I said quickly, "I mean, usually I minded my business but I just-I don't know..." I trailed off looking down at my oversized T-shirt absentmindedly tugging at a loose thread while I tried not to focus on how shabbily I was dressed.

He was silent for a while, "Funny, my sister said the same thing." He didn't sound like he was amused.

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed silent, which was probably best since He began talking again.

"Every year it's the same thing, The anniversary rolls around and suddenly everyone is concerned." He sounded bitter I didn't know if it was warranted or not, I didn't know the whole story. "I haven't heard from her in almost eleven months, and suddenly I should be accepting and go home to visit just because she says so? When I needed her most, she wasn't there...not like how I wanted her to be. We were just children, we shouldn't have seen some of the things we've seen..." He trailed off, looking down at the joint in his hand, lost in thought.

We watched the smoke curled in delicate wisps to disappear as soon as it got to a certain height. It reminded me of a ballet dancer.

I didn't like where his mind was at, obviously his sister had a right to be worried. And he had a lot of things on his mind, stuff he needed to let out.

"She's worried about you I guess." I paused when his eyes flashed to mine, like he had just remembered I was here. "And maybe you're not close, but she's still your sister." I reasoned.

"My sister? Nah, she's cool. She checks up on me often...too often as a matter of fact, buying me food I don't need and what not. I wasn't... it's not her. I wasn't talking about Ericka..." he trailed off, pulling the joint up to his lips to take a long drag.

"I'm guessing you never tried weed before either?" He said abruptly, I knew it was an attempt at changing the subject but I let it slide. He didn't have to talk about his family drama with me. I was still a total stranger.

I shook my head no.

"Do you want to try?" I looked at the blunt skeptically, "It's straight weed, I wouldn't offer you the mixed shit."

I nodded my head, not really trusting my voice to speak.

"Come here." He said slowly, his eyes were hooded and I could tell he was already a little high. There was an obvious shift in mood and I was struggling to figure out what he was thinking, especially since his eyes were guarded.

I got up and shakily crossed the small distance between the sofas. When I was an arms length away, I reached out my hand, ready to accept the blunt.

He reached out and tugged on my arm, I fell haphazardly in his lap. I let out a surprised squeak, already scrambling up into a sitting position. His hand on my waist stopped me, "It's okay, I won't do anything you don't want me to." I don't know why I always believed him when he said stuff like that.

I nodded, gulping nervously while the coolness from his palm sunk in through my shirt. A deep contrast from the heat slowly flushing my face. I was basically straddling him and a huge part of me felt like panicking, but I was grounded by his gaze. His eyes said trust me.

I did.

Which was crazy cause I had to keep reminding myself that he's a stranger to me.

"It's a shotgun kiss," He said, squeezing my waist one last time before releasing me. I nodded, I'd read about those in Urban Fiction novels. I wasn't about to tell him that though, if I could speak that is. I'm yet to use actual words since I found myself in this position.

I watched him take a long drag, closing his lips to trap the smoke inside. His hands slowly reached up to cup the back of my neck, automatically brushing through my hair, which was probably wild and frizzy.

He pulled me to him slowly.

Probably giving me time to change my mind.

Actually I should change my mind, I should just run now while I had the chance.

While I was lost in my mental debate, the space between us was closing slowly at first before all at once.

My hand reached up to grip his, I don't know if I looked as frightened as I felt. I wasn't afraid of him, I was sure of that. This was excitement, and that's what scares me. The fact that I was enjoying this, and anticipating more.

I could see my reflection in his eyes now, I looked wild. Unrecognizable. His eyes made me look mystical like something out of a fantasy novel. Wild curly hair, slightly parted lips the anticipation dancing in rapid staccatos to the beat of my pulse.

When we were close enough his hand reached up, and brushed against my lips softly. They opened almost automatically and before I could combust from the amount of adrenaline coursing through my veins, he released the smoke into my mouth and I sucked in a deep breath partially because that was what read I was supposed to do and mostly because his hand at the back of my neck had reached up to grab a fistful of my hair, his fingers grazing my scalp in the most innocent yet sensual way.

I was so lost in this moment. I was so lost in him.

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A/N
Longest chapter so far 😌
A whole lot of things happened in this chapter 😂
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