Cause the loudest nigga in the room wasn't always the one you had to worry about.
Sometimes it was the one smiling in your face while waiting for the right moment to make a move.
I wokeup to Kyrie’s arms wrapped around me and frowned. I didn’t even remember coming to bed last night. The last thing I remembered was us curled up on the couch, watching TV after our little talk. After that? I was drawing a blank.
Slowly sitting up, I heard Kyrie groan before his eyes cracked open.
“Where the hell you going?” he asked, looking at me.
“I’m finna go use the bathroom.”
A part of me wanted to laugh, but I held it in. No matter what time I got up, this man always acted like I was trying to sneak away.
“Mmhm.” He squinted at me. “You coming back to bed?”
“Nope. I’m going in the art room.”
He didn’t say anything else. He just nodded and rolled over.
Shaking my head, I grabbed my phone and headed to the bathroom. Once I used it, washed my hands, and cleaned my face, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen.
The first thing on my mind was coffee. I needed my daily dose. I didn’t know what it was about coffee, but it always gave me the little boost I needed to start my day. Then, on top of that, Kyrie had gone and bought me a cappuccino machine, which only made my addiction worse.
After fixing my cup, I headed back upstairs to my art room.
The second I stepped inside, my eyes landed on the blank canvas covering the easel. An idea had been floating around in my head since yesterday, and I wanted to get it out before I lost it.
Setting my cup down, I grabbed my pencil and stared at the canvas for a second.
Lately, the only thing I’d really been interested in painting was Kyrie. And honestly, I wasn’t even surprised anymore.
As I worked on the painting, my phone started ringing. I reached over, grabbed it, and smiled when I saw Drayla’s nameflash across the screen. Sliding my finger across the answer button, I placed the call on speaker and set my phone beside me.
“Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?” Drayla asked as soon as the call connected.
“I’m good.”
“Bet. How’s Kyrie doing? Is his crazy ass alright?” she asked with a laugh.
A smile pulled at my lips.
“Yeah, he’s good. We chilled for a little while last night, and then we ended up going to sleep.”
“Bet.”
“Yeah.”
I couldn’t even lie; I was glad Drayla had come into my life. She was cool as hell. I could talk to her about everything without her stressing me out or bringing a bunch of unnecessary drama my way.
“So, what you doing right now?” she asked, changing the subject.
I glanced down at the canvas in front of me.
“Working on a painting.”
“Let me guess.” She laughed. “It’s Kyrie.”
A laugh slipped out of me.
