mbakuetshurisprincess - Tumblr blog

mbakuetshurisprincess · 1 year

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Anything but Love Part 3

AN: Hello my loves! I hope all is going well for everyone, for my university babies, I am sending you literally all of my love, we got this. Anyway, here's ABL p3, I legit did not know if this was ever gonna make it off the floor, but Met Gala Letitia did it for me. L4DS lovelies, I did not forget you, I could never forget you, I am working y’all PROMISE. ALSO, I never got the chance to say thank you for 1,300 followers??? WTF thank y’all I really appreciate it <3. Okay okay, I hope you enjoy my lil spoiled brat Shuri MWAH.

Summary: Being the head of PR for the Udaku family came with its challenges. But staying on top of public perception and answering to elders paled in comparison to your most formidable challenge, dealing with the princess.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, that’s it I think.

Word count: 4,431

This one gets a dual dedication. As always fake dating belongs to and will forever be for @pinkwright I don’t make the rules, that’s just how it is. This spoiled brat ass Shuri specifically though is dedicated to @inmyheadimobsessed once again, I don’t make the rules, spoiled Shuri just belongs to Lyric idk.

Masterlist. Taglist. Part 1. Part 2.

Suggested listening: Love of My Life - Harry Styles

“Baby, you were the love of my life, woah Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind Don't know where you'll land when you fly But, baby, you were the love of my life”

Family dinners with the Udaku’s were notoriously as informal as the Queen could make them. The memories from your childhood were still just as sweet as the yams and sweet potatoes Ramonda would cook at your request. The small circle table you all sat around provided an intimate setting, standing in contrast to the large one that sat in the dining room that truthfully no one ever used.

No, this table was a gift from T’Chaka himself to Ramonda when they found out they were expecting T’Challa. He knew how important family was to the young Queen and built it by hand as a testament to his commitment to making sure that their little family still felt like a family despite the circumstances.

Typically, you and Nakia sat on one side, with Shuri and T’Challa across from you and Ramonda and T’Chaka at both ends of the table. When you were younger Shuri used to complain to her mother that she didn’t want to sit next to T’Challa anymore cause he couldn’t stop making “lovey eyes” at Nakia during dinner.

Now, even without T’Chaka, you assumed the seating arrangement would stay the same. But upon walking up to where you would normally sit with Nakia, you noticed something; a name card. And it didn’t have your name on it. Picking up the “T’Challa” name card you were slightly confused.

This was too formal of a gesture to come from Ramonda, too intricate to be something from T’Challa and Nakia had only just arrived. Only one person would have had the time to pull something like this off and after a deeper examination of the card you found your smoking gun. The material the card was made out of was a 3D printing thread that is exclusively found inside the Princess’s lab.

Looking over at Nakia with her own “Nakia” place card in her hands, you could tell she’d come to the same conclusion. “She’s getting quicker with these.” Nakia chuckled, putting her card back in its spot.

A quick walk around the table let you know that the only change Shuri’d made was switching you and T’Challa so that you were now sitting next to her and T’Challa with Nakia. Evidently, she’d had enough time to even print one in her father's honor, ensuring that his placemat wasn’t left empty.

“Oh good, you two have found your seats. Sit.” Shuri ended her sentence with a clap and a smile. While an over it T’Challa rolled his eyes and mouthed a “Please.” to both of you.

You shrugged your shoulders, still somewhat annoyed at Shuri from her actions earlier but willing to put your differences aside, considering her coming-of-age ceremony was in just a few short days.

As all of you took your seats, Shuri removed the place cards one by one before sticking them in her pocket. Just as she sat down in her own chair, Queen Ramonda walked in.

“Molweni- (Hello,)” She paused, taking in the table with a slight smirk. “You all have chosen new seats I see, that is a good sign I hope.” She winked at you before taking her seat.

You flashed your eyes to Shuri who sat between you and the Queen, expecting her to fess up, but the princess sat and said nothing; fighting a smile the whole time.

T’Challa cleared his throat bringing the attention to himself. “Should we give thanks? I am famished and the food looks amazing Mama.”

At his word everyone extended their hands, one of yours reaching across the table to grab Nakia and the other taking hold of Shuri. When your hands touched she interlaced her fingers in yours tightly, pressing your palms together. After T’Challa finished his prayer it took Shuri a moment to unlace her fingers from yours, greedily enjoying the brief moment of contact with you.

Dinner went well, Ramonda pestered Shuri and you about how your waltz was coming along and if you’d coordinated your outfits yet. Shuri gave answers for both of you that she knew would just barely satisfy her mother to avoid any more questions. Part of you wanted to discuss the little details like this with Queen Mother, but the Princess’s avoidance of the topic gave you pause.

The conversation soon shifted from Shuri and yourself over to Nakia and T’Challa, and before you knew it all of you were wrapped up in some council story T’Challa was telling.

Shuri took the opportunity to glance over at you, the smile you wore on your face as you laughed at the corny punchline T’Challa delivered was the same one that danced in her memories when she thought of you as she fell asleep. It was a sight she missed, the way your cheeks practically rose all the way up to your eyes and you threw your head back with laughter.

This was a feeling she used to be able to elicit from you anytime she wanted. A silly face or too long of a look and you were letting that addicting sound flow from your lips into her ears. But now she couldn’t recall the last time she’d heard the sound come from you, it wrapped around her like a blanket now, drawing her back into you.

“I would like to go to the riverbank.” Shuri’s words came out of nowhere and halted the conversation that had been going on.

Ramonda went to speak but T’Challa beat her to it. “It is nearly sunset sisi, it is no time for you to be outside of the palace alone.”

“I will not be alone, I am taking Y/N with me. We are going… together.” Your eyes shot up from your plate to meet the Princesses.

“Excuse me-” You started to protest Shuri’s idea, still weary of the idea of spending more time with her than needed for this arrangement and her thrusting this on you definitely didn’t help.

“What? Isn’t this good for your plan anyway? We’ll go out, walk by the riverside as the sunsets, people will see us, rumors will start, and people will talk about us ahead of my coming of age.” Shuri’s face held a look of innocence, batting her eyes as if this was something you inherently asked for.

T’Challa understood what his sister was trying to do at that moment. This was his poor, lovesick, misunderstood little sister’s attempt at trying to get back on your good side. She had the right idea, just the wrong execution.

“I think it is a perfect idea sisi, don’t you?” Nakia chimed in now, giving you a look that reminded you of your earlier conversation. “You promised.” Her eyes said to you.

“I-” You looked at the princess sitting next to you and for a brief moment you were transported back to your childhood. The innocent look in her eyes was identical to the one that she had as a child, just hoping for the best in the world. “It will be good to get the villagers talking about you, it will increase the anticipation for the ceremony.”

Ramonda looked at you two with a proud smile, seemingly happy thinking that her plan was working. “Ayo, Okoye, and Aneka will accompany you two. no getting into trouble just a walk along the riverbank.”

Shuri’s smile stretched from ear to ear, “Thank you, Mother, I would never get into trouble, such things I leave for my dear brother here.”

T’Challa let out an amused laugh, “Go before I change my mind and refuse to let you leave the palace.”

In the blink of an eye, Shuri herself had gotten up from her seat at the table and maneuvered herself to be behind your chair. Once there she pulled your chair out and you took your cue to stand. “Come.” She ordered as she practically dragged you by your shoulders out of the room.

The pace she set was far quicker than you’d expected and before you knew it you two had made your way out of the palace and to the path, with the three Dora’s following closely behind you.

Coming down to the river was always peaceful for you, to see the water rush over rocks and animals in their natural habitat, offering a place of relief from the fast-paced nature of palace life.

You and two walked in silence for a few minutes, to describe the silence as comfortable would be a lie. In the air lingered a conversation un-had and words unsaid, but you’d be damned if you swallowed your pride and started it.

This was something Shuri wanted? She would have to work for it.

“So this is nice, isn't it? Like when we were kids.”

“Mhm, very nice.” Your response was short and your eyes didn’t leave the riverbank to look at her.

“Did you enjoy dinner tonight? I thought the rice was just okay but the chicken was pretty good.” Shuri looked over at you, trying to grab at least a second of your attention. But you would not yield, ignoring her obvious body language.

“I thought it was good.” Another curt reply.

Strike 1.

You were frustrating Shuri beyond belief, could you not appreciate the thoughtful gesture she’d done for you? There were things in the past between you two, but did you really plan to hold onto the grudge for this long?

You knelt down and started rolling the legs of your pants up higher, if you were by the river, why not take advantage of it? It had been so long since you’d come down here anyway, and the temperature was warm enough that the cool of the water would be soothing.

“What are you doing?” The princess asked, looking down at you confused.

You looked up at her through the few curls that had fallen in your face, feeding her a look that read “Are you stupid?” to her confused one. “Rolling up my pants, what does it look like?”

Strike 2.

Shuri stood with her feet planted on the ground watching as you walked away and made your way into the shallow water, not caring if she followed behind you or not. Bast had to of put you in her life to fuck with her, as some sick sense of payback she surmised.

She glanced behind her to her three Dora’s, “Do you see how she treats me? Do you see what my mother has subjected me to?”

Aneka opened her mouth to reply to Shuri, but a quick elbow from Ayo had her clamping her lips back together.

“I suggest you go work this out with your-” Okoye faltered for a moment. “Partner, before your ceremony.”

Shuri threw her head back with a groan and turned her attention back to you, who had now made it up to your knees in water. “Bast help me.” The princess muttered to herself, rolling her pant legs up and going to join you.

You heard the sound of Shuri entering the water behind you, feet splashing as she trudged to where you stood. Your eyes had focused down on the sand below your feet, squeezing it in and out, distracting you from the reality of your situation.

Shuri’s ceremony was in a few days and you knew you hadn’t done enough to prepare for the whole ordeal. Despite the lies she told her mother, your waltz had not improved since the last time you had worked on it and your outfits had yet to be finalized.

It was a lot.

And that wasn’t even factoring in the media training you knew you would have to do with Shuri to ensure that your relationship seemed believable.

“Do you plan to ignore me all night?” Shuri demanded, muttering to herself as she got deeper into the water.

You turned to face Shuri, the warm evening sunset backlit you and the princess swore that Bast herself came down and paused time. The position that you stood in made it seem as if you were the sun, as if the many beams of evening light all shot out from a single point, you. And in that moment Shuri agreed with the hasty conclusion that her mind drew.

You were the sun.

But just like the sun, your beauty burned. Whatever entity was controlling her life hit play and the slick words that fell from your mouth seared her just like the sun's rays. “Do you plan to drag me somewhere else tonight without my knowledge? Or is this the last stop?”

You two stood there for a moment, eyes locked on each other. You waited for her this time, waiting until you saw the words start to form in her head and begin to spill from her open lips. It was then that you turned around back towards the sun that it seemed you came from, going deeper into the water and away from her.

Strike three.

The princess couldn’t take it anymore, stomping her foot in the water in anger like a child and letting out a frustrated groan. Her next actions continued on this childish path and she was well aware of it, but she couldn’t stop. You had poked the bear and now you had to deal with its, albeit childish, consequences.

Shuri followed you, both of you not caring about your clothing that was now destined to be soaked in the now stomach-deep water. When she was finally within arms reach, she pulled her arms close to her chest and pushed as much water as she could in your direction. Splashing your entire previously dry back in the water.

Your body clenched as your brain processed what had just happened. “Did this bitch just-”

“Did you just splash me?” You whipped around to face Shuri whose face now held a satisfied smirk. She’d gotten your attention.

“You were being rude.” She replied back simply shrugging her shoulders as if what she did was justified.

“You little fucking-” As much as you hated to play into Shuri’s game you couldn’t help it, she was childish and so deep down were you. You mimicked her movements and splashed water on her, coating her whole front in water.

The princess gasped as she looked down at her soaked t-shirt, “You will pay for this mistake with your life intaka encinci (little bird).” The childhood nickname fell from Shuri’s mouth with ease. In this playful space with you, she reverted back to the nickname her father had given you, deriving from the fact that you liked to sit in the trees.

“I will gladly lay down my life for what I believe in.” And with that, you two were off. Water and laughter being tossed each other's way as you waded deeper into the water without a care in the world.

The three Dora’s stood and watched you two from the shore, each of them finding something different to focus on.

For Ayo, it was the sound of Shuri’s laughter, the particular pitch only you seemed to be able to elicit from her.

For Okoye, the smile on your face. You didn’t dawn that smile for just anyone, Okoye herself had seen it only a few times in many years of knowing you.

For Aneka however, it was the fact that you two seemed to be getting deeper and deeper into the water. And while she knew you both knew how to swim, accidentally letting the Princess and her best friend drown on her watch wasn’t something she exactly wanted.

“Should we…?” Aneka looked to her girlfriend to hopefully finish the sentence but Ayo said nothing, leaving her to continue it. “You know, stop them?”

Okoye pondered the question for a moment, “Why? They are under our watch, splashing around in the river like the children they are. Let them be.”

Aneka nodded, her newness still had her in an overly cautious by-the-book state, which even the two seasoned Dora’s found just slightly funny.

Okoye however immediately ate her words. A shriek from Shuri brought her eyes back over to you just in time to see the princess’s entire body in your arms being lifted from the water and dunked. Effectively making you the winner of this splash battle.

“ALRIGHT LET’S GO, THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N!” Okoye’s voice distracted you just long enough for Shuri to grab you similarly to the way you did her and dunk you into the water. Leaving you now both even, and soaked.

T’Challa had taken the time after dinner to relax with Nakia, enjoying the little time Bast had granted them together that day. He sat with his head in between Nakia’s thighs, her hands fiddling with his hair while he read his next speech aloud to her.

“I come to you now, United Nations, to ask for understanding and restate that while Wakanda has opened its borders we still remain-” T’Challa stopped, rather something stopped T’Challa.

It was a sound he wasn’t even aware his brain knew, he didn’t know what it was but he knew it was a sound he missed.

“Still remain what, my love? Why did you stop?” Nakia probed, her hands twisting his curls together.

There it was again, that sound. This time it made T’Challa sit up out of Nakia’s lap abruptly, what was that sound?

“Do you hear that?” T’Challa asked Nakia, moving his head around to see if he could discern the direction it was coming from.

“Hear what Challa?” Nakia paused for a second taking note of his behavior. His shoulders were hunched and goosebumps littered his arms, a telltale sign of the heart-shaped herb’s effects. “T’Challa if you’re hearing stuff it may be my stomach, I have not had a home-cooked meal like that in ages-”

The King stopped his girlfriend with a chuckle, “Hayi, sithandwa sam, ndiyivile lonto. (No my love, I heard that.) Nakia shoved him lightly, rolling her eyes at him. “This is different though, you really cannot hear that?”

The sound now was louder, he was sure whatever it was, was now inside the palace. Nakia tried her hardest to listen intently but came up with nothing, shaking her head in response.

“Come on.” T’Challa grabbed Nakia’s hand and pulled her off of the bed they’d been laying on, determined to find whatever was making that sound.

The King wove his way through the palace, passing room after room desperate to find what he was looking for.

“Baby are you sure you-” Nakia’s words stopped in their tracks when she heard it too.

“I’m not crazy right?” T’Challa asked the question out loud, knowing the answer. If the sound was now perceptible to human ears and Nakia could identify it too, then there was no way he was mishearing this.

It was now Nakia’s turn to drag T’Challa and drag she did. They turned the corner and finally were greeted with what had been causing that sound.

There you and Shuri were, standing in soaking wet clothing in front of the pantry, laughing as you both raided the snack drawer.

It was a sight and sound extremely familiar to Nakia and T’Challa, having been woken up many times before at odd hours from the sound of your combined laughter. But it was a spectacle both of them were unsure they’d ever be graced with seeing again.

The look of pure joy on your face as you piled the junk food into Shuri’s hand is just as vibrant now as it was when you were kids. And the identical one on Shuri’s brings a smile to T’Challa, his little sister was really happy again.

A quick clearing of his throat however put all laughter to an end as you both whipped your heads around to see T’Challa and Nakia staring at you amusedly.

“Shit.” You cursed.

“Ikaka. (Shit.)” Shuri mimicked you in your mother tongue.

“Why are you two rummaging through my pantry like thieves?” T’Challa asked, using his kingly voice.

“And why are you wet?” Nakia noticed the small pile of water that had accumulated between the both of you.

You looked to Shuri just as you would when you were kids and you found your way into trouble.

“Are we not able to get a snack brother? Would you deprive us of one of our basic human needs, food?” Shuri played up her shocked attitude, toying with her brother.

“And are we not able to dip our feet in the water anymore? Are we not allowed to take advantage of these useful limbs Bast has given us and feel the river?” You followed up behind her, matching her air of disbelief at their questioning of you two.

“Is that what we are calling ‘dip our feet in’ now? Oh okay, I will update my definition.” Okoye chimed in now sarcastically with a laugh from her place in the corner of the room, happy to stir the pot.

T’Challa looked between the two of you waiting for a response, when you two didn’t give one he smiled. He reveled in the opportunity for all of you to act like children again and mess with his little sisters.

“A ‘dip’ in the river is what they are saying my love, do you believe them?” He turned to Nakia as he began stalking towards you two.

Nakia chuckled at how quickly he was able to match the energy your pair had been emitting but still, even the Wardog couldn’t resist the opportunity to let loose. “I don’t know sithandwa sam (my love).” She was quickly next to you with a curl of your hair in her hand. “If it was just a dip then why is our iintaka ezincinci (little bird’s) hair wet!”

“Blasphemy!” You called out pulling away from Nakia with a laugh, “My hair is not wet.”

“And you, my dear sister, why has your necklace turned purple? The filament you used for this necklace only changes color when submerged in water. Speak now and let me see how you try and talk your way out of this.” The King and Nakia had backed you and Shuri into a corner, literally and metaphorically.

Shuri looked over at you once to try and see if she could figure out what your next move was going to be. When your eyes made contact, she knew the plan without words being said.

“They are going to run.” Okoye declared with a smirk, leaning back against the wall so she could get a good look at what was about to play out.

“They are not going to run,” T’Challa responded. “They would never even think of trying to outrun the mighty Black Panther.”

“Mzalwana wam othandekayo, (My dear brother,)” Shuri said with a chuckle. “Your confidence with me will always be your foley. RUN!”

At Shuri’s word both of you dashed on either side of Nakia and T’Challa, the princess somehow managing to evade her brother's grasp and you the same with Nakia.

The sound of you hooting and hollering could be heard all through the palace, but T’Challa was quick on your tail. If T’Challa’s foley was his confidence with his little sister then you and Shuri’s was definitely thinking that you were going to somehow outrun the fucking Black Panther. You and Shuri were fast, but not enhanced by a literal gift from Bast herself, fast.

But this time? This time, Bast must have been looking out for you and Shuri. The trail of water that you two were leaving made T’Challa slip, giving you just enough time to make a last-minute turn and pull Shuri into the training room.

Between gasps for air and laughs you guided Shuri all the way back into the room Okoye had gifted you, not bothering to turn the lights on to not alert T’Challa to your position. As you both caught your breath your giggles faded and you were suddenly faced with the realization that you were alone, in a confined space, in the dark, with the Princess.

To really refer to it as the dark however would be dishonest, through the skylight the beginning of the moon peaked in, bathing the princess in its dark glow. The moonlight illuminated her outline and you committed the way she looked to memory. The soft smile still adorning her face, the damp curls that fell on either side of her head. Seeing her in this light reminded you of just how beautiful Shuri was, now being able to appreciate the changes to her face that maturity brought.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” The sound of Shuri speaking pulled you out of your fantasizing.

“I didn’t mean to stare I- '' Your eyes caught on some sand in Shuri’s hair and you stepped closer to her to wipe it out. “You had some sand in your hair, I just wanted to get it for you.”

Your response wasn’t believable to either of you but Shuri let it slide.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You replied, suddenly becoming aware of the lack of space between you.

By the look on Shuri’s face, you guessed she had become aware of the same thing. You tried to take a step backward but before you could, Shuri grabbed your arm, preventing you from leaving the bubble of energy you two had created in this moment.

Shuri tried to speak but she hesitated, debating if she wanted to admit the words that had been plaguing her mind for the past week. “I miss this.” The confession was soft from your princess but you heard it and felt it all the same.

“I miss us.” Shuri continued, letting go of her hold on your arm so she could lean her head down to rest on your shoulder.

There she was, your soft, sweet, Shuri. The girl you’d grown up with, the one who comforted you when no one else could and made you laugh when no one else dared try.

You wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her body into you, her arms automatically finding their way around your waist.

“I miss you.” She admitted into your skin this time, hoping that the message would seep in and make it directly into your heart. “Did I lose you?”

The question was barely above a whisper.

“Am I too late to fix this? To fix us?”

“Oh Shuri,” You cooed softly, unsure of how to respond. You couldn’t in good concise forgive her right there on the spot, but the temptation was there nonetheless.

“I want to.” She pulled her head off of your chest and once again the moonlight lit her in its silver glow. “I want to fix us.”

Taglist: @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright @chatitajens @playhousedistee @motheroffae @injeolmiee @tchhairbandhere @._mrqs @msudaku @lppriceisright @bratydoll @blackqueengold @iheartsolo @cafehyunji @abenomeiiii @naomis-daydream @ilroachsworld @locoforshuri @nrc-06 @trixielwt @christinabae

#shuri black panther #Shuri x you #shuri udaku x reader #shuri x reader #shuri of wakanda #shuri fanfiction #shuri x y/n #black panther #black panther fic #black panther imagine #wlw ship #WLW #wlW love

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mbakuetshurisprincess · 1 year

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GET THE FUCK UP YALL THIS IS NOT A DRILL 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

More Than I Should {pt. 3}

pairing: riri ✘ black!fem!reader

summary: in riri's mind of monsters, you were an angel. an angel whose attention she begrudgingly vied for. god, she didn't even know the extent in which she needed it — needed you, until you made yourself inaccessible.

word count: 12.9k (just eat the food)

chapter contents: riri being a grumpster as usual, but also kinda soft?, mentions of riri having nightmares, riri and keem are besties y'all, they love each other (YIKES!!), hakeem is actually a funny lil dude, riri is kinda emotionally closed off and getting clocked by her conscience?, riri being in denial, very hot and cold, very down bad (her feelings beating her ass), zariri being cute (sorry to their haters), smoking, riri spiraling a lil bit, reader avoiding riri

tags: @verachii @cjariot @blackgcomica @n7cje @mocha-aya @uhwhatsay @shinsousliya @bratydoll @shuriri4life @axailslink @chidinma @percsane @generallysapphic @mbakuetshurisprincess @quintessencewrites @adeola-the-explorer @dejaonline @bubshri @zayswriting @vixentheplanet @prettymrswright @shurisjournal @shurismainbxtch @cafehyunji @bigbigbigfan @andibecamethestars @saintwrld @mysticalmarss @sweetalittleselfish-honey @marsolgy @randomhoex @chatitajens @cuddl3s4shur1 @abenomeiiii @6-noir @melanated-queens @yamsthoughts @lppriceisright @shuriislut @playgurlxoxo @kya-rose @shuriszn @lluvstrksl4t

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: okay! and we back! i know it's been a minute, but i had to take my time. can't believe i'm finally posting pt. 3 ooh! i really like this chapter and it lays the groundwork for specific things i have planned for future parts. writing from inside riri's head kinda beat my ass though cause she DID NOT want me to tell y'all her tea, but we came to a compromise. reader isn't really in this chapter physically until the very end, but riri be thinking bout her when she brushing her teeth! sorry to the hakeem haters, that's my pookie! zariri hive up! (literally just me) i hope youse enjoy this, she's lengthy (big shocker) but it's justifiable this time cause i've been starving y'all. anyway, mwah mwahh!!

dedicated to my baby, whom i love dearly, @zayswriting more than i should #1 fan™️

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Sleeping; it's the body's way of recharging, the body's way of healing. For most people, sleep was tranquil, with dreaming coming as a necessary escape. Far removed from reality, there was to be solace in slumber — for most.

Riri Williams was not most.

Normally, this made her prideful, contrasting the majority, but what was to be said when your dreams mirrored the reality you wished valiantly to escape?

When it came to sleep, when it came to rest, she envied the mundane. Riri coveted being at peace whenever her eyelids fell. And she yearned for her moments loitering in REM to be more than brief ones.

The scenes behind her lids were recurring — prophesied long before Riri’s skin met her mattress. But despite this premonition, she permitted their slipping from her mind when existing within that slim pocket between consciousness and unconsciousness, and it was then that the monster seized his opportunity, creeping from the closet, on the prowl for his next meal. On the prowl for Riri, and her gorgeous mind, feeding on the memories dwelling inside the grooves of her brain, and forcing her to relive each one as he sucked them out.

This was the part she thought herself able to exploit — the extraction. If the monster removed the recollections for good, she wouldn't have to suffer this constant loop.

It’d been a naïve thought though, because this belief called for compassion. And if the monster — her monster — existed as one comprised of compassion, there would be no nightmares at all. Riri would be able to rest in her own bed, and the caress of another would not be desired when attempting to drift. Though Zariyah’s warmth did nothing to keep her still now as she lay entwined in her arms; he followed her here, to her girl’s place, so on spun the cycle.

Riri’s small body twisted in her girl’s sheets, writhing in distress through the frightening ordeal she’d been compelled to endure over the past few nights. She thrashed, chest tearing itself open to sanction her heart’s escape. Her monster siphoned her brain — grinding its contents with daggered canines — just before vomiting it all back into the young engineer's head so she’d be impelled to recall everything about that day.

Riri became one with the icy sweat clutching her frigid skin, knees jerking with her body's brash kicking, and she whimpered meekly, plunging into the depths of the horrors projected behind shifting eyes.

“Ri…” Riy blew it groggily, her own eyes still locked as she absorbed Riri’s movements. She drew Riri in closer, wanting to be her serenity, but Zariyah was unaware of the violence Riri recounted in her dreams while she spasmed beside her.

Riri launched herself upright, snapping the buckle of her girl’s embrace, gasping for a breath of oxygen as those freezing sweat beads traveling her flesh rolled down with leisure, not caring about the paranoia rocketing through the sinking chest they scaled.

Her monster retreated with a sneer, thwarted off by her abrupt emergence from silk pillows. When Riri’s eyes were open, cowardice swallowed him whole, because he was aware his tactics couldn't work on her barricaded brain now. She knew how to protect herself when she awakened — how to cage her thoughts — and he couldn't manipulate her here, in the real world.

Of all the objects in her familiar setting, it was the essential oil diffuser that steadied Riri's rugged exhales, and she allowed her breathing to emulate the timed puffs expelled by the cream-colored device perched on Zariyah's dresser.

“Ri baby, are you okay?” Zariyah whispered, soft and tired.

Riri glanced back at the naked silhouette of her girl draped in velvet, catching a glimpse of those pouty lips in love with her skin, and she chuckled timidly, watching a half-awake Riy feel around the mattress for her body. “Ri… lay back down, let me hold you.”

“I gotta go, baby.” Her knees indented her bare chest as she spoke, loose smile tightening the second Zariyah tossed that scolding glare her way; it seared, but Riri welcomed its burn, because her shivering frame had yet to fully defrost the chill in her veins.

“Another nightmare, Ri? What's this, the third one this week?”

Third one this week, fifth one this month. But Riri wasn't counting.

“I’m fine, Riy,” It slipped off her lying tongue readily, free-falling from her mouth before dissolving into the gust of Sandalwood oil mugging the air. “Go back to sleep baby, Ima just let myself out.”

Zariyah was unconvinced, and her frustrated sigh consumed a stumbling Riri as she tripped out of bed, fumbling around in the darkness to put her clothes back on. “I know you're not fine. And I need you to get your lil ass back in this bed, Riri.”

Riri wanted that, fuck, she needed it. That incessant voice in the back of her head throbbed so sweetly, pressuring her to climb back in bed, mold into Zariyah, granting her addictive kisses the power to sedate her.

But for unbeknownst reasons, the forces of the universe thought her undeserving of simple pleasures, and Riri lacked the desire to fight back, not with the splitting headache from the fucking lobotomy she just barely survived ringing in her temples. So she made leaving Zariyah's arms her only option. “Z, I can't stay. Not tonight.”

“Riri.”

The smaller girl stilled, Riy’s frigid tone frosting her melting arteries once again, and she rolled her eyes, gaping down at her ever-trembling hands. “Everybody has bad dreams Z, why you making it a national emergency cause I’m getting them?”

“Because I give a damn, Riri. And you been shaking and shit in your sleep for three nights, it's concerning.”

Riri pulled on her hoodie, then turned, capturing the troubled look in her girl's stunning eyes, trouble she put there. Riy sat up, crimson curls peeking out the top of her head scarf as she eyed a fully clothed Riri, allowing the covers to fall from her nakedness.

And her nipple jewelry danced in the dark, hypnotizing Riri from where she stood. The sight alone should be enough to keep her here, her eyes fanning their expanse as she got lost in the work of art that was Zariyah’s illustrated body. Tattoos her fingers traced a few hours ago, piercings that created sinful friction against her build; the memories made her moan aloud, and she chewed her bottom lip when she felt her smirk’s approaching climb.

Riy tossed a pillow her way, full in her force, but she ducked, barely dodging the thing, “Girl, stop staring at my titties and talk to me. I can't stand yo ass, I swear.”

Riri’s laugh was low, and it was mostly genuine on her short walk back to the bedside she previously indented. Mostly. “I said I'm good Z.” Maybe repetition could be enough to persuade, both Zariyah and herself, Riri thought.

She leaned over, puckering her lips in Riy's stern face pleadingly, but Riri was not met with the contact she grew desperate for. Zariyah craned her head to the side, denying Riri’s wet mouth as she crossed her arms, removing the view of her gorgeous breasts as well. “What? I can't get a kiss now?”

“No.”

Riri raised her eyebrow daringly, “No?”

“That's what the fuck I said.” Riy huffed in annoyance, making Riri grin slightly.

“Would it make you feel better if I said it wasn't the same dream every time?” She knew Zariyah wouldn't let her leave without an explanation of sorts, and this wasn't a lie, not entirely. Her nightmares were serial, sure, but there were many angles of that day, and a plethora of memories that could be used to torment Riri’s psyche. And used they were; her monster held no belief in leftovers, so he denied Riri the luxury of leaving any semblance of her trauma untouched.

Riy groaned, “Why the fuck would that make me feel better Riri?”

“They're just dreams, Riy.”

They were just dreams. It's what she told herself anyway, and one day, she would arise from the never-ending nightmare that was life without her dad, and life without her best friend.

Zariyah crawled toward Riri, hooking her chin over her shoulder before pressing a kiss into her sweaty throat. “You promise?”

And Riri’s head sprang immediately, because her nod was practiced. “Yeah.”

Her tremoring word was devoid of credibility, but Zariyah let it suffice, and fuck if Riri wasn't grateful for that; she already felt her lie cracking, her weak facade crumbling, and she wasn't sure either would remain intact if her girl continued the grilling.

Smiling into the hot pecks adorning her neck came with ease and satisfaction as she looped her favorite fingers around her middle. “Z…”

“What is it Ri baby?” She smirked, tongue lapping that sweet little spot she knew drove Riri insane, and when she produced that sigh she sought after, Zariyah pushed off her entirely, settling back into the comfort of her linens.

“You gon gimme my kiss now? Before I go?”

Riy giggled, “Hungry ass always want my mouth all over you.”

“You know I do, Z baby.” Riri stood, turning to face her as she slowly caressed her inked throat, capturing the heat of Zariyah’s mouth on hers. She ingested the flurries of Riy’s moans, anxiously awaiting the assertive way the golden sphere punched into her girl's tongue dominated her own.

It was impossible to stop her fingers’ wandering; Zariyah kneeled undressed for her, whining for her, making Riri feel like everything would be alright if she slipped back into those taunting threads.

“Stay…” Riy practically whimpered it, digits finding their way beneath Riri’s hoodie with a mission, and if she didn't break away soon, said mission would be accomplished.

When they parted, Riri drank in those dazed irises that cared for her, smiling faintly before pressing another peck to Riy’s plump lips. She stroked her cheek, wanting to bask in the gentleness of her girl’s skin, needing the reminder — gentleness was hers to claim if she so chose. It was here, Zariyah was here, quite literally at her fingertips. But she supposed it was more in her nature to fall victim to the universe’s spell, easier to accept haunting dreams and sleepless nights to be her fate.

So she gathered her scattered things in the shadows of the room, inhaling sweet Sandalwood before heading to the door sporting a stupid little grin subject to melting away the minute she left her girl’s presence.

“Bye, baby.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder, gripping the bedroom door as she allowed herself one last look at a worried Zariyah gazing over at her, those bright eyes of hers dimmer now, pleading almost.

“Be s–”

Riri laughed halfheartedly, “Be safe. Yes, I know, ma. I always am.”

•••

Arriving to her classes on time had never been a task Riri prioritized; showing up was enough in her book, and the activity was never to become practiced behavior. But, the terror reposing behind shut eyes served as quite the motivator today, encouraging her to attend each of her classes wide-eyed and hopped up on caffeine.

Riri hadn't even made it back to her dorm after leaving Zariyah’s; she solicited refuge from the freezing walls of her garage instead, and in the challenge of her latest creation.

She'd found herself doing that, building devices she likely had no use for, more so than usual. Riri’s instinct to constantly construct, coupled with her desire to keep her eyes open often resulted in impressive, yet unnecessary productions. Because what could her need for an arm cannon that doubled as a 3-D printer possibly be?

Regardless, it was something to do, so she stayed there, well into the early morning ignoring sleep’s call, and when the Sun climbed the sky, Riri was relieved to have survived yet another night.

Alongside her monster, someone else rummaged through memories she wished to bury — you. As much as the young engineer wrestled the acceptance of it, Riri was aware she’d hurt you that night, she'd caught the slightest glimpse of the expression coloring your features just before the door slammed shut. Regret rushed her immediately after, berating her as she came to a sole conclusion: hurt did not belong on your face. But it was there, because she put it there, and she was not deluded enough to believe she hadn't gone too far.

The physical image of you remained scarce after that night, throughout the week, and this bugged her for reasons she refused to acknowledge. Not being able to deconstruct you as you twitched beneath her watch, not being able to gauge where she stood with you after what she'd done unsettled Riri.

And this too, fueled her timely arrivals. Riri had been skipping all of her classes for the past few days, neglecting the homework she had piling up, disregarding her phone's consistent dinging. Today was Friday though, and Riri liked Fridays.

She got to see you today.

When she strutted into the room, Riri’s feet halted unexpectedly, her white Air Maxes screeching on the floor as her eyes scanned the large, mostly empty space. She was one of three students who'd arrived early, too early, the sound her sneakers made shifting all gazes to her.

“The fuck…” She muttered it under her breath, side-eyeing her professor who seemed astonished to see her. She made the quick journey to her row in the back, the one you two shared, eyes rolling instinctively and Riri sat, lying wait.

Riri knew herself to be impatient, but the extent was forever lost on her before now, before she was made to anticipate your entrance. She exhaled anxiously, leg bouncing as she feasted on the flesh of her raw bottom lip, thus making it the only content she'd ingested all day. Sickening, Riri thought, but her stomach accepted whatever she had to offer; constricting; grumbling as its acids dissolved the dead skin.

Feral eyes darted to the door following the slightest sound of footsteps strolling into the classroom, but she grew irritated every time the person entering wasn't you. Was this normal? Were you late? You couldn't be late, you were never late, she was just uncharacteristically early.

“Someone's sitting there.” She spat at some random blonde girl gunning for your seat.

The girl's smile shook under the obvious agitation Riri laced her words with, but it didn't melt away when she asked, “Who? It's empty right now, I just–”

“Does it matter?” She shoved her backpack into the chair, leering at the girl who’d now gone beet red. “It ain't gonna be you. Move.”

“But I–”

Riri possessed the ability to intimidate, in spite of her height, she also knew her words held force when she said them just right, “Go.” And she watched the girl scurry off with the blow of just the one. She was harmless, only looking for someplace to sit, but why would Riri care? There were plenty of others for her to choose from.

The dreams weren't a force she could control, not for lack of trying, but usually, what she could control was her chosen proximity to you. Riri would refute it if confronted, but being near you remedied, your aura was powerful like that; too powerful, she’d realized, and she despised its dominion over her.

But she couldn't deny she needed it now. So where the fuck were you?

Typical, she thought. Leave it to you to sour her mood, even now, when you were the singular reason she bothered coming in the first place. You aggravated her with ease, without even being present. Her fluctuation between hot and cold when it came to you perplexed her more than any equation taught within these four walls, or any algorithm she dared herself to develop on her many sleepless nights.

Every time she found herself wanting to extend a sliver of kindness your way, you found a way to fuck it up. Why were you like that? Why was she? She waited still however, the coffee she downed adding speed to her already twitching leg.

“Where the fuck–” Riri choked on her words, swallowing them back down as she permitted her eyes boldening when they spotted you prancing into the classroom. They softened, oh so briefly before she denounced the gesture, opting for another eye roll instead. Her gaping brown orbs — designated home to judgment and disgust — betrayed her often, when they focused on you that was. And Riri fucking hated that.

Your hair was done, gorgeous curls now protected underneath long soft locs flowing past your hips, past your ass like cascading fiery falls. They brightened the room and her bleak world alike, leaving her almost breathless.

Ropes of red suited you, she thought, suited your eyes, your face, your dark skin; Red was your color. Never had she thought a shade so vibrant and willful would be made for you, but you existed as a conundrum to Riri. She was staring, waiting, examining you from where she sat; you were speaking to Dr. Lucas, so she nabbed the opportunity.

Riri liked your makeup, she always did. She admired the subtlety of your soft beat, and how it opposed the defiant blaze your hair emitted. Your signature knife-edged eyeliner threatened to stab her as she prolonged her onlooking, making the short scientist curve her lips ever so slightly.

Your sweater though, it wasn't yours. She recognized its washed-out green shade. She knew the zipper no longer worked, and Riri located the small hole just below the left pocket with ease, because she was responsible for it; a very late night, and a joint. You were wearing Hakeem’s sweater, and her insides dropped at the revelation, making her gag just as you looked up at her.

Fuck she was pathetic.

Riri scoffed at her own involuntary sound, exhaling an intake of air as she prepared for you to join her on your shared row. You watched her intently from where you stood in the front, brow arching in that perfect way she liked, signifying you were already annoyed by her glaring. Riri smirked at you, feeling that familiar burst of thrill that slithered through her system whenever the pair of you locked eyes, because she knew she had you, hooked on her line like a fish — you made it too easy.

Except, she didn't have you, and Riri realized this a little too late for comfort. You broke the stare, seemingly unbothered when you plunged into an empty seat on the front row, your body lithe in its descent, and Riri’s right eye mirrored her leg’s tic.

This was not your routine, and deviating wasn't your normal, Riri studied this, learned this, knew this. You were supposed to sit on the last row with her, two seats over from her, and she expected to see your face. It's why she chose this spot at the very beginning of the semester.

Your eyebrows always knitted when your professor spoke, you listened attentively for as long as you could, chewing on your pencil's eraser when deep in thought; she was supposed to witness this. God, your infinite eyes. Riri was meant to view them fluttering shut when you inevitably began dozing off. Your neck was supposed to jerk, you'd spring up, catch her eyes, she'd laugh, and you were supposed to be annoyed that she laughed.

This was your routine. So why the fuck were you sitting in the front row? Why the fuck did you have your back to her? Why the fuck was she being made to stare at your head? And good lord, why in the blue fuck did the distance between the pair of you anger her this much?

Riri didn't like this.

Dr. Lucas’ rambling about visualizing solutions using direction fields and approximating them using Euler’s method made no home in her jumbled brain; his monotone voice worked only to amplify her confusion. Were you ignoring her?

You, ignoring her? The notion didn't even seem plausible the longer she sat with it. Was it because of what she'd done last week?

Riri's eyes were locked on the back of your head for the duration of class, brain mulling over the events of last Saturday night, forcing herself to recount her actions, her words — becoming her own monster as she snarled. Surely you couldn't still be stuck on that. Right? She’d noticed the way you never stayed upset with her for too long, perhaps she could even admit she took advantage of it, because she had not anticipated… this, whatever it was.

It was a slap in the fucking face, she decided. You were trying to piss her off, and it was fucking working.

Her knee continued jumping as she was made to count the brick parts in your hair. It wasn't hard for her to calculate the exact number of locs in your head, she fixated on doing it, guessing, before concluding that it’d be an even number: fifty-two. They were perfect; intricate; precise, just the way you liked things.

You're not a dummy.

She’d hoped the sharp daggers she tossed down at you would at the very least, make you turn with a threatening glower, but you remained forward, fiddling with the broken zipper on that stupid fucking sweater, and Riri remained frustrated. Because she knew you felt them, her pointed daggers; you made no move to dodge them, and you tensed after each throw.

You’re not a dummy. Turn around.

This right here was why she didn't like you, why she couldn't like you, because you played with her, you tested her. She couldn't stand it, blood boiling over the longer she watched your pencil move and wrist flick from behind.

You're not a dummy. But you're behaving like one. Turn the fuck around.

She contemplated moving down to sit beside you, but class ended ahead of her internal battle, and she reprimanded herself for even entertaining the thought immediately.

You were on your feet, quicker than she'd ever seen, trying to escape her; Riri could recognize this because it's what she did, and she'd be lying if she said your exit speed had not been formidable.

But she refused to focus on your ability to impress, because this role reversal quickly became another thing eating at her delicious brain. She stalked you out of class, teeny feet doing what they could to keep up with your long strides; Riri was quick, but it seemed today, you were quicker.

Why the fuck was she resisting the unyielding urge to scream your name as she chased you? Who the hell gave you the right to stride away from her, gracefully at that, like she didn't matter? Who the fuck did you think you were?

Riri didn't like this. She really really hated this. She gasped when her lips parted, your name teasing the tip of her tongue. She bit it back though, enraged. You forced her to stare at your dancing scarlet locs, and perfect swishing hips cloaked by that ugly green fabric as you strutted away from her.

Riri would not allow you to get away with this little attitude you’d adopted. You wore it well though, confidence. Fuck. But she would have to get to the bottom of your shift in behavior. She was not invisible, and you would pay attention to her.

As she backed away, embarrassed, her back collided with the front of another student, sending his things tumbling to the ground, “The fuck is wrong with you? You walking with your eyes closed or something? Don't fucking bump into me are you crazy?!”

“I'm sorry I didn't–”

“Oh! Oh! You didn't?” She mocked, fuming. “Fuck outta my way.” She huffed, stomping off and out the same door you’d just exited, tiny fists balling at her sides.

•••

The weariness Riri fled all day had finally caught up to her, compelling her to permit the shutting of those heavy eyelids. Her torso bent, slumping forward, head plunging down onto her work table where several tools dug into her cheek. Riri didn't care though, in fact, she remained blissfully unaware, drooling all the while as she succumbed to a dreamless nap.

Her garage existed as her fortitude, the one place her scavenging monster had yet to infiltrate. She was safe from him here; she could sleep here, without duress. And she slipped immediately, because she was tired, really fucking tired.

The fatigued girl hadn't even relished in the luxury of dozing off for fifteen minutes before a thunderous pounding frightened her awake. Continuous, jarring, and disturbingly rhythmic — Riri allowed the noise to usher her off of her stool, and onto the ground with a grumble. She jetted over to the side door, ready to reprimand the only person she knew to be so obnoxious.

Upon opening it, that sickeningly cheery smile she'd begrudgingly grown to love greeted her, and she grimaced on command. Hakeem marveled down at her whilst patting the crown of her head, teeth, and diamond earrings stinging her slit irises.

“Nigga, the fuck are you doing here?” Riri jerked from under her best friend's touch, holding tightly to her slipping scowl.

He moved her miniature body with zero effort, stepping around her and into the garage, his smile never wavering. “Uh, you texted me goofy.”

“I did?” Keem nodded absentmindedly, wandering deeper into Riri’s sanctuary, becoming enraptured with her latest sketches. “Oh shit… I did.” It was only then that Riri remembered, so caught up in the promise of rest, her actions had completely escaped her. She'd texted Hakeem to come by after his last class, her elusive intention buried beneath the message itself; Riri was hoping — praying — you'd tag along like the puppy you were.

You were back on good terms with him now, well, good enough according to him, and you never seemed to understand when you weren't wanted somewhere, so she figured you'd pout your way into accompanying him. Riri was desperate for a chance to question you about your behavior towards her earlier; she couldn't move past it, despite her efforts. And your blatant disregarding of her existence joined the long line of entities overrunning her busy brain, what was left of it anyway.

Why would you just ignore her like that? You weren't supposed to ignore her like that. You’d never done it before, why now? Why today? The single day where she needed you. So fucking selfish.

Riri craned her neck out the door, almost tripping the longer she extended it, searching for you, waiting for your face to appear in her doorway.

“Don't worry, I ain't bring her this time.”

“What?” She whipped around.

Hakeem chuckled, picking through Riri’s things on her table nosily, “Ooh, what's this?”

“Keep ya nasty lil fingers off my shit,” She strutted over to him. “And what you mean you ain't bring her this time?”

“She ain't wanna come.” He shrugged, completely oblivious to the desperation guiding Riri’s words, and the disappointment coloring her tired lips when they fell. His eyes and lanky fingers were too busy tracing the images on Riri’s board and the scattered parts surrounding it.

You didn't wanna come? Since fucking when?

She cleared her throat awkwardly, dousing the flames crackling in the void of her tummy, “Well, uh, good. Cause I was getting tired of you always dragging her ass around me unannounced.”

“What kinda top secret–” Hakeem's eyes widened, glazing over with a hint of awe, “Riri, is yo ass building an Ironman suit?! Please please please tell me you building an Ironman suit!”

She nearly let her lips curl after noting his legitimate excitement, but she deadpanned instead, face slackening, voice taking on its signature bored infliction, “Yes Hakeem, I'm definitely building a damn Ironman suit.”

Sarcastic and sardonic — the only way Riri knew how to be. Sometimes her cynicism concerned her, like now, as she chose to remain cryptic, when the option of being open with her best friend about her work existed as an easier choice.

“Your sneaky ass would be doing some shit like that.” Hakeem cut his eyes, and Riri rolled hers.

“Anyway! Move away from my things, thank you!” Both palms indented his stomach as she guided him over to her computer screens.

He harrumphed, still suspicious, but ultimately choosing to drop it, making Riri sigh. “What your itty bitty butt call me over here for anyway?”

She prepared for this question; this entire interaction was drummed up immediately after your departure earlier. What she hadn't prepared for, was your absence; it threw her ever so slightly, more so than she would ever admit. “I can't just wanna hang out with my best friend?”

Hakeem laughed, and its vigor shoved Riri into a fit also, settling her anxiety some. “I uh, I need your help finishing up this reprogramming.”

“Ain't no way you called me over here cause you need my help.” Hakeem snorted in disbelief.

He wasn't wrong, she didn't need his help, she didn't need anyone's help, she'd finished this exact project two days prior for another student. But she wouldn't have minded yours. Why didn't you just fucking come like she expected you to? God, you were so damn irritating.

“I um, I do, actually. I was supposed to have it done for one of them rich white kids but, I-I haven't been able to focus on it, or anything school related if we being for real.” She grumbled that last part shyly, but of course Hakeem's fucking elephant ears picked up on it.

He eyed her cautiously, before speaking, “And why you can't focus on anything school-related, Riri?”

“You gon help me or what?” Meeting his eye line didn't present itself as an option, so Riri fiddled with her computer mouse instead, opening the software that had finally downloaded.

“Answer the damn question.”

Riri sighed, shooting the tall boy a brief look. “Don't make a big fucking deal about it, but, the dreams are back.”

“See, I knew it. That's why you was sleeping here and shit? Riri you can't be sleeping in this garage, it's not safe, you–”

“Bruh didn't I just tell yo ass not to make a big deal about it?”

His scrutiny made the scientist flinch; Hakeem could be unnerving when he chose to be, and Riri found his easy way of shifting to be daunting, like the immense pressure felt from his spiky stare, and the abyssal drop in his lively tone could be enough to scare every answer she concealed straight from her drying throat. “Have you been sleeping at all?”

She watched his brows knit, eyes sullen as he regarded her with concern. “A little bit.”

“Mmm, why I don't believe that?”

She huffed, “I was actually tryna sleep a few minutes ago, but your ass pulled up, knocking on my shit like you had a warrant.”

“Riri, you can't sleep here.”

He was right, she knew this, but who would she be if she didn't challenge him? “Nigga you ain't my daddy.”

Bitter words Riri regretted instantly, as she gaped at her silent, staring best friend.

She loathed those eyes of his, the way they perceived her, thawing her frozen facade. She'd labored endlessly to forge her high walls, only for her work to be rendered useless; Hakeem bulldozed straight through their very foundations.

“Ri.”

She shook her head, “Can you just help me?”

“You lucky coding is kinda my shit.” His grin reemerged slowly, like it never left.

Though she still craved sleep, the buzzing inside her was beginning to still, being near Hakeem did that. The pair of friends worked silently next to each other, swift fingers smoothing over keys. Riri was grateful for the company, grateful for her best friend, his willingness to lend his time and mind.

“What are they about? The dreams, I mean.” He caught her eyes when she glanced timidly up at him, and immediately, she snatched them back.

Never had Riri disclosed the contents of her dreams to anyone, not even Hakeem. He knew about her Dad, about Natalie, but she'd kept him in the dark about the details.

“Don't wanna talk about that,” She chewed her lip, mind defying her, running to you when she glanced up at his screen. “And that whole line is wrong.”

He chuckled a little when he realized she was correct, bringing back the annoyance she thought to be previously settled. “Thought coding was your shit.”

“I ain't said I was perfect, bruh damn, ” He picked up on her indignation, good. “How much you getting paid for this anyway? I can get a cut?”

“You be too deep in my damn business, bummy.”

Her patience was bred to be thin, but today, it's like you made it completely nonexistent with your antics. What pissed her off, even more, was that she knew you wouldn't make such a simple mistake like your boyfriend did. You were thorough, rarely did you take your eye off the ball. Riri liked that, and it was probably the only thing she admittedly respected about you.

You should be here right now, assisting her as you did last week, diligently avoiding your boyfriend’s screw up. Instead, you decided to be childish.

But Riri couldn't shake the feeling that you were justified in your avoidance, if that's what you were truly doing. Perhaps you’d drawn a line somewhere and hadn't told her, maybe she crossed it with her actions, her words.

The moments prior to her outburst were enjoyable, she let her guard slip with you, not all the way, but just enough for the conversation to be pleasant. She laughed with you. Your mind intrigued her; called to her, and she felt inclined to answer.

Your hand in hers, your fingers between her own; it was shameful, but your apprehensive responsive full body twitches made it feel not so.

After a while, her stomach churned, scolding her reminiscent thoughts, and her remorseful eyes fanned up to a concentrated Hakeem caught up in correcting his mistake.

“You being real quiet Ri,” He sang, smiling knowingly, moving for the robot sitting on Riri’s messy work table. “Must mean you avoiding telling me something.”

He wasn't even looking at her, his focus set on downloading the firmware to the robot sitting beside the computer, yet somehow, he still decoded her. Riri spoke of walls and their supposed impenetrable builds, but were they ever up around her best friend?

She chuckled dryly remembering the spark of their friendship. A group project last semester forced them to work together, and Riri had every intention to remain guarded when around him. She wanted nothing to do with the popular black boy who spent most of his time partying with white frat guys. He had a reputation, on campus and in her mind.

Riri tried upholding her signature “don't talk to me” persona, but Hakeem bought none of it, and getting her to crack became more important to him than their assignment. Eventually, she did, because he housed a charm like she'd never known, and one could only deny that mischievous smirk for so long. He was quite proud of himself, latching onto her after that, leaving Riri with no choice but to become okay with his presence.

He was loud, rambunctious, extremely audacious, and always searching for the next party. A stark contrast from Riri who just wanted to smoke and build shit in her garage.

“I'm down for that, too,” He’d said. “You’d be surprised what these sexy ass hands can do, I'm tryna tell you.”

“Please don't ever say no shit like that around me again.” She’d retorted, expression wry, allowing him to follow after her.

She soon realized that his company had never been intentional, until her, making the pair an inseparable one.

“Not avoiding anything.” She fibbed, biting back a grin of her own.

Keem pushed the completed robot toward her, eyes narrowed. “Mhmm.”

“Riri, people care about you, you know?” She scoffed, not wanting to hear the spiel he chose to recite every time this happened. “I care–”

“Sappy ass nigga.”

But this time, he hadn't produced that signature laugh she grew accustomed to. Hakeem's dark browns swirled softly with compassion, leaking reassurance, making Riri stiffen as he stepped closer. “I mean it, Riri. You can talk to me, you don't gotta be so closed off all the time and shit.”

“Nigga you tryna kiss me? Back up.” Deflecting was her defense mechanism. She wished to let him in, shit, she probably needed to, but Riri knew she couldn't — wouldn't. Because letting Hakeem in meant opening the door for those feelings she struggled terribly to keep locked out. She could not chance them entering her barriers.

“I gotta go, Ri.” He sighed, defeated. Christ, he should know, he should know that Riri knew. Why did she have to say it out loud? She didn't understand why people required words to know how she felt, about them, about herself; they should just be able to fucking know.

“You need anything else? A hug?” Keem’s smile stretched, and she gagged immediately.

I need to know why your girlfriend is avoiding me.

But you do know why, don't you Riri? Isn't this what you wanted?

“No.”

Hakeem tugged her to him anyway, receiving not a word of protest from his tiny best friend, because she needed this too, this was nice. The space between his shoulders welcomed Riri’s exhausted physique, muscular arms flexing to swaddle her just right. Hakeem's cologne was so strong, so fogging, Riri found herself almost nodding off with her face pressed to his abdomen.

But another scent kept her awake, the faintest whiff of something embarrassingly familiar: You.

That light mist of smoky vanilla and saffron; one she didn't even know she could recognize until now. But there you were, spritzed all over him like you were his. And here Riri was, inhaling you deep, allowing you to enter her lungs as an oxygen dupe whilst her stomach ate itself.

She didn't want to pull away, because pulling away meant you'd be gone again, just like you'd left her earlier. So, she buried her face deeper into his shirt, diving further into your smell until Hakeem's no longer existed in her nostrils, until the aroma of you alone began to drown her, and she sighed.

Hakeem's reverberating chuckle assisted her resurfacing, and Riri grew hot all over when he pecked her atop her braids, burning in her furnace of guilt.

She let him go, rougher than she intended to, but he didn't seem to notice. “I knew yo weird ass wanted to kiss me.”

“I love you, Ri. You know that.”

“Yuck!”

He smiled, using those fucking dimples to unveil her own petulant grin, “I know you love me too. Ima see you, Ri. Try to get some sleep, aight? Preferably in a bed?”

She did love him; Hakeem was the person Riri was closest to, her lifeline, and this sentiment only worked to further her stomach's self-consumption as she watched him drive away.

•••

There was something to be said about an angry Riri Williams on a mission. Those speedy little legs of hers were thrusted forward by rage, her golden R pendant bouncing atop her chest with the same ferocity, clinking in tandem with the other chain adorning her slick neck.

She was hot, and tired, as the Sun blared its rays directly into her cocoa irises, but still, she refrained from turning her fitted hat forward to help shield her eyes. Her steps were so brisk, warm air wooshed in her ears, and the ends of her braids tucked beneath her cap slapped violently against her back.

When her phone buzzed in her fist, she hoisted the screen to her face, eyeballs turning in her head just before she swiped the message away so she could focus on the tiny red dot she was tracking.

She lowered the device, storming toward her target with a stern face.

“I see that phone still work.” She approached the brown-haired boy sitting with his friends, his face falling the second he took in her wild expression.

“Uh, hey Riri, what–” She snatched it from his stubby fingers, eyes fixated on the way they trembled when they lost their grip on the thing.

It was unlocked, great, less work for her. “You sitting up here real comfortable, snacking and shit, like youn owe me a band, and change.” Her vision was trained on the iPhone she seized, scrolling through various apps until the one she sought jumped out at her: Venmo.

“Sorry, I uh, I forgot. But I thought we agreed on seven hundred.” The boy peered over at his alarmed friends.

He attempted to reach for his phone, but he'd underestimated Riri’s guile. She anticipated his move long before he made it, stepping back, holding the device to her person. “Yeah, two days ago maybe, but prices go up the longer you take to run my shit.”

He was fidgeting, and Riri let her smirk curl, entertained by him. “Look, I did most of the work, I think it's fair that–”

“I’m the reason you got that grade you got.” She stated plainly, bored of the back and forth. She awarded herself the desired amount, allowing the defeated boy to take hold of his property once she no longer had use for it, and she plastered her face with a faux smile as she bobbed away.

“Fucking white people.” She mumbled with a head shake, turning her phone off completely as a measure to dodge the emails from her therapist she refused to respond to.

Riri plucked her nose from her phone, the Sun still working to abuse her eyes, and it was then that she saw you.

Steady flows of molten lava scorching her retinas, the rays emitted by the sky's ball of fire made an afterthought now. Riri’s legs stilled, her pupils dilating under the beams of your hair. She knew how she must've looked, gaping at you the way she did, out in the open, and her unwillingness to care mixed her mind. But she couldn't, care that was, not at the moment.

You wore that hideous green thing still; Riri was unaware of her disdain for the sweater until today. How many times had she seen Hakeem in it without batting an eye? It wasn't even cold out, like at all. Why did you have it on? You were so fucking odd.

Warm air blew your locs to and fro as you inched closer to her, making her hold her breath with each step you took.

You weren't looking at her yet, but surely you felt her eyes on you, on the way you clasped your backpack, on your nails. She hadn't noticed them in class, because your stubborn ass hadn't given her a chance to, but your nails matched your hair now. When she saw them last, was the night she held them, they were purple then.

They were still as long, still as dangerous, except now, they were painted red, much like the blood heating her ears.

Riri braced herself for impact; you were inches away, eyes boring directly into hers, so she fixed her lips into a hard line, something menacing, something deterring. She wouldn't speak first, no. In Riri’s mind, you were even, she was mean to you, you retaliated by ignoring her, so you were even.

You were so close, your perfume kissed her skin, and she smirked when your eyebrow jumped. Jackpot, this intense eye contact was to be her in.

But again, you’d managed to con her into believing she would be getting your attention. You didn't stop, your feet brought you to her, bypassing her, and you bumped her shoulder in the process without so much as a word. Riri was stunned, at a loss, as she whipped around to see you marching away from her for a second time today.

She resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a child. Riri was short, not fucking invisible. Where the hell did you get off? Why were you getting to her this much? You shouldn't be able to.

She blamed it on her lack of sleep, because was there another conclusion to be drawn? She couldn't, wouldn't, draw one.

With one last look over her shoulder, Riri headed in the other direction, dragging her heavy limbs back to her dorm with the hope of sleeping your likeness away.

•••

Riri lay unmoving on her bed, heart stunned into a sprint after yet another gruesome attack. She was awake, but locked lids provided aid in keeping her eyeballs off of the closet door in the distance.

That's where he resided, her monster, snickering in amusement at the state in which he left her.

Her dorm steeped in moonlight when she unstuck her face from her pillow, bathing her damp skin in streams that cooled. Riri’s vision barely existed as her eyes darted around the room, but despite this, her wells found the recently stripped photograph taped to her wall. She hadn't the heart to reframe it; keeping the film near loosened her constricting chest on nights like these. A slanted gaze trailed to the digital clock on her desk: 12:04 a.m. At least she’d slept some.

Riri sighed, hands moving before her brain could stop her, and she reached for her phone, scrolling through her recent calls before her thumb hovered hesitantly.

One ring, two rings, three.

She was going to hang up, having regretted the act already. No way h–

“Hey, wassup?” Hakeem's voice sounded groggy, oh good, she'd woken him. Surprising, Riri thought, a Friday night spent indoors was not his normal. “Nah, it's just Ri, baby girl.” So you were with him, and she'd woken the both of you with her desperate little phone call. Amazing.

Were you at his place? In his bed? Or, was he in yours? That image, the one of the two of you sharing the same sheets, was not one she needed on her conscience, so she did away with the thought, just as she pretended not to feel her tension band tighten in her abdomen.

“Yo, Ri, you good?” She remained silent on her end, thinking, spinning, spiraling inside her warped mind.

This call was a mistake. “Sorry, I uh, I didn't–”

“I'm on the way.” And then she was made to listen to that beep, beep, beep; Hakeem hadn't given her a chance to decline, not that she'd wanted him to. It’s why she called him, because Riri knew he'd know, without her having to say it.

She was shoving her head through the neck of her hoodie when her phone pinged, and she rushed to it.

Bestie Westie: I'm outside.

Riri rolled her eyes at the contact name every single time Hakeem texted her, she had no hand in it, but she wouldn't dare change it. She slipped her feet into her crocs after grabbing her phone and keys, making her way to her awaiting best friend.

Upon opening Hakeem's car door, a wave of heady Vanilla crashed onto her, its current forceful, and deliberate as hell, making Riri scoff. What the fuck did you do? Douse the seats in your fucking perfume just to taunt her? Three times now she'd been assaulted by your smell, three times she recognized it on command. Riri valued consistency, somewhat, she liked a pattern, but this one, this pattern of you — she was not fond of it.

She’d zoned out, Riri realized, involuntarily floating on the aroma surrounding her, and it was Hakeem’s voice that brought her back. “You getting in, Ri?”

“Yeah.” She collected herself, exhaling as she stepped into the car with a shy smile that Keem reciprocated, allowing her best friend to drive her off into the void of the inky night.

•••

“Wish Freeda’s was twenty-four-seven, could really use some fries right now.” Riri’s lips separated, preparing themselves to once again come in contact with the burning blunt her fingers clasped. Her drag was long, smoke gliding down her throat, collecting in her lungs as she held it, awaiting that familiar burn she craved. And then she exhaled, billows of white clouds blowing from her mouth.

“You and them damn salty ass fries.” Hakeem teased with a laugh that should be deemed too enthusiastic, even for him, but his high guided it, and Riri was stoned enough to match it.

She sipped her Slurpee, passing the blunt over, watching him accept it leisurely through hooded eyes. When the straw left her tongue, she slurred, “Look, that seasoned salt ain't nun to play with. Ion know what to tell you.”

“Seasoned salt my ass, swear Ion see your itty bitty butt eat nothing else. What that cholesterol looking like?”

The girl damn near cackled under the slow drum of the question, and Riri shook her head with a loose smile. “Cholesterol? Nigga, the fuck, I look fifty-five to you? I ain't worried bout no damn cholesterol.”

“What are you worried bout then? Cause I know it's something,” Hakeem took a hit, eyeing Riri tentatively where she sat with her back against the door. “That's when the dreams come back, right?”

His seat was halfway reclined, and he puffed a breath of smoke up toward the car's ceiling, adding to the haze existing around them already. He waited, foreseeing her hesitation before even she did, humming along with the song wafting out his speakers, patient as ever.

Riri didn't like this, she knew the question was underway, but she really fucking hated it; vulnerability was not a carried skill. She wanted to enjoy her high, to forget, momentarily, that her feelings were her enemy, and her brain was their friend. “I told you Ion wanna talk about that shit.”

“No, you said youn wanna talk about what goes down in your dreams. That's cool. But, I ain't asking bout that, I'm asking bout what's causing them, small fry.” He shot her a wink, or what she perceived to be one, smiling lazily.

Riri grimaced, vermilion-stained eyes regarding him with the utmost contempt, “Call me that again, see what happens.”

“Riri, you not getting off that easy. Now talk to me.”

A beat of silence befell them, per Riri’s doing, and she sucked her straw in again, forcing the taste of mango-lemonade to wash her mouth, needing it to pacify her speech. “Guess I'm just stressed,” She spoke after a while, and Hakeem bobbed his head.

“Okay. What's stressing you out, small fry?” He exhaled, a gust of gas following his words.

“Nigga.”

“Ri.”

The wrap touched her digits once again, and the drug entered her system, along with that fucking smell, your fucking smell, that for whatever reason, chose to follow her. “Ion know. I’ve just been feeling real weird over the past three months. And no the dreams ain't been back for that long. I just feel off.”

“Your classes?”

“No, well kinda this week, but not usually. Ion know what it is.” Except she did know, and she wished desperately to unknow; Riri wanted her lie to ring true, but, she had your perfume in her lungs right now, it was acquainted with her nose, her bloodstream. God, she could fucking taste it — taste you — there was no way for her to unknow that.

Hakeem tutted, and Riri’s eyes rolled. “Wrong answer.”

“What?”

“Ri, you know I know you. And I know when you fixing them lips to lie to me.” His arm extended, pinching her chin, and she recoiled in disgust.

“Eww. Weird ass nigga, don't touch me.”

He snatched the dwindling blunt from her, taking the last hit before placing all attention on his tightly wound best friend. “Soooo, you gon tell me?”

Riri huffed, swigging her Slurpee, her body unconsciously rocking to the current song. “I just told you Ion know what the fuck I got going on.”

“Sticking with your lie. Okay,” He threw his hands up. “You and Riy good?”

Riri giggled automatically, be it because of the weed, or just the fondness she held for the tattooed girl, she didn't know, nor did she mind. “Yeah. We good.”

He shook his head, “See, Ion understand you man.”

“Nobody gets me Keem, that's how I like it.”

“Ha.” He laughed dryly, “I mean ion understand how you have a baddie like Zariyah, and still playing games, you know shawty want you.”

“And she has me.”

He tossed her a challenging glare. “Y’all official?”

Hakeem was right, rarely was he ever wrong when shrinking her brain. Riri could admit that internally, but never aloud, because then she'd have to own her shit, and she didn't see herself able to. Not yet. “Man, whatever.”

“If I was you… Damn, what would I do with all that if I was you? Damn. Like shit Riri, the fuck is wrong with you for real?”

“Nigga, don't you got a girl?”

“You gon tell her?”

Riri deadpanned, wincing at the thought of you avoiding her entirely. “Like I would willingly talk to her.”

“Guessing y’all lil study session ain't go well last week? She been dodging yo ass like the plague.” He chuckled.

She couldn't pretend this blatant confirmation didn't pack a punch, even if it’d been clear as day. You were avoiding her. Hakeem pushed it into the open, and he found hilarity in your behavior. Riri on the other hand, could not pinpoint which of the sensations incited by your behavior bloomed the strongest in her depths. Anger? Irritation? Bewilderment?

Or could it be the one that lay dormant in her body until today, the sole sensation she detested, and refused to give attention to? “You shouldn't have sent her irritating ass to come check up on me.”

“Aye, watch it,” She heeded his warning, but not without an eye roll, of course. “You ungrateful as hell, you know that?”

Riri pouted. Its appearance on her face would never be permitted outside of this setting, outside of Hakeem's presence; she was too high to wipe it away. “I ain't need no babysitter.”

“Evidently you do, small fry. Yo ass need supervision, since you can't seem to sleep in your bed.” Hakeem spat his words playfully, but Riri knew him well enough to place his trepidation, about her, about her stressors.

“Stop calling me that shit.”

“Stop deflecting.”

“Whatever nigga.”

He was trying, and failing, to readjust his seat when he blew the chilling question her way, and maybe the fog in the car’s air created a mirage before her, because Riri was certain Hakeem's words frosted the melted dregs of her syrupy drink once again. “Why youn like her anyway?”

This sight of him, struggling with his worn-out car, should be comical. She should laugh. But, she couldn't, because this question, and its intrusiveness, stunned her into stillness in the passenger seat. “W-What?”

“Why youn like my girl? She ain't never did shit to you for real, but you always on her. Why?”

Riri Williams was a super-genius, and prior to this instance, there was no equation she thought herself unable to solve, no question she believed existed without a complementing answer. With effort, and a little elbow grease, she was usually able to make the seemingly impossible, possible. But that ceased to be the case now — she did not possess the response her best friend was in search of.

Because you were unsolvable. Her answers did not compliment you.

“Ion gotta like everybody, Hakeem. I barely like yo ass.”

And though she never presented herself as a friend, Riri had to thank the universe still, along with the high dazing Hakeem's expression as he started the car without another word, leaving Riri alone with the question he'd tossed out, blissfully ignorant to the damage he'd just done.

She fiddled with the pendant dangling around her neck, the pad of her thumb grazing the letter as she pondered: Why didn't she like you?

You were in her veins right now — she was gone off your smell. She liked that. So why didn't she like you?

Riri rolled the window down, basking in the cool air nipping her heightened skin as she poked her face out like a thrilled dog, resisting the tempting urge to actually stick her tongue out playfully. If Hakeem could dismiss his words so readily, why couldn't she? So, it's what she chose to do, in her final attempt to reclaim the lastings of her sanity.

The drive back to her dorm carried a consoling quietness, save for the silky whispers Hakeem's speakers breezed out, his pressing question long lapsed in her head. She hummed, eyes low as she made way for a goofy little grin to cross her once-contorted features.

“You good, Ri?” And for once she could answer this question truthfully, because Riri was indeed good, better than good — perfect.

She nodded, glimpsing at his matching smile before he stepped out of the car. “Aight, come on.”

Once back in her room, Riri fused to her mattress again, this time lacking fear. Because Hakeem was here, his warmth capable of keeping her monster at bay. He found the taste of Riri’s security to be rancid, refusing to feed when protection blanketed her.

“Wait, before I get in,” Hakeem kicked his shoes off at the door, his voice interrupting Riri’s thoughts of a peaceful undertaking. “Was you fucking in this bed recently, Riri?”

She leered up at him blankly with an unamused expression. He was smirking, brow cocked, expectancy apparent on his smug face. What an insufferable man, befriending him had to honestly be her biggest mistake.

“Nigga, if I was, I definitely changed the sheets. Now, be a damn gentleman and hold me, I’m fragile.”

Hakeem gagged dramatically. Riri wanted to smack him, but unfortunately, luck remained planted at his dreadful side, because her approaching drowsiness advised against the attack.

After placing his phone on Riri’s side table, Hakeem scooted in behind her, still smirking, still giggling as his lanky arms engulfed her far smaller build, and Riri begrudgingly relaxed into him, eyes barely shut before a new set of words attacked her ears, “Fragile cause you be getting that ass tore up? Zariyah be doing the bending, don't she? See I knew it, I–”

“I'm so damn close to strangling you. Shut up and go the fuck to sleep, goddamn. Don't never know when to stop talking.”

He laughed, pulling her closer with a loud sigh. Riri was seconds away from the sleep she sought when Keem's phone buzzed beside her, so naturally, she took a gander, coming face to face with a photo of you as his lockscreen, the notification ceasing to matter now.

Chasmal brown eyes spilling mirth as you cheesed at your photographer, who she presumed to be the boy knocked out in her bed. She studied every corner of your face, completely enamored by your skin’s deepness, before the screen went black again. It was so fucking swift, the way you'd wormed your way back into her head, a task you'd perfected it seemed, even in absence.

She lay there for a while, stewing. Shame should devour her entirely for what she did next, lord, it was low, and if the mocking rattle drumming inside her closet was to be indication, her monster agreed.

She was still high enough to cast blame on the indica she'd ingested, and a snoring Hakeem bore no threat. So, Riri tapped the phone again, your shining smile eliciting a gentle, dopey one of her own. The light faded, taking her consciousness with it. Tangled in your boyfriend's arms — Riri allowed you to paint your portrait behind her lids — becoming her solace as she slumbered.

•••

Sunlight seeped through Riri’s array of windows, blazing streaks greeting her first for once, instead of the other way around when she pushed her eyes open. They panned around her brightened room cautiously, still grappling with the belief of staying shut throughout the night.

Hakeem was nowhere to be found, but this was hardly surprising, the only thing remaining in his wake being the sticky note pressed to her forehead, his signature way of announcing his departure. Usually, the impact between paper meeting skin stirred her awake, but this time, he’d slipped out with stealth.

She peeled the small square off her face, scoffing at the blurry vision of his atrocious handwriting. The only legible words were ‘text me’ scribbled below a drawing of some kind, and she blew a laugh, sitting up to reach for her phone perched on her side table.

The action birthed remembrance, as she sat, glaring blankly at her phone screen. She wasn't high anymore, meaning acceptance shadowed her unwanted remembering — Riri dreamt of you. Your smile, your eyes, your fucking hair, God, you were everywhere in her mind as she slept. And she was awake now, compelled to reflect on this truth.

It was getting out of hand, her seemingly inescapable fixation with you, and quite frankly she was fucking over your witchy ways. This was her line drawing, you didn't get to infiltrate her life and her REM cycle, even if your kind eyes offered her the best sleep she'd had in weeks. She had to put a stop to this — she had to see you.

Riri: Lemme take you out.

Her phone buzzed in her palm two seconds later, making her eyes roll expectedly as she grinned, hitting answer. “You know, when people text you it's prolly cause they don't wanna be on the phone with you.”

“And when you get asked out, it ain't usually through a half-assed text message.” Zariyah chimed, her smooth voice washing over Riri like honey.

She laughed, timid and jeering as she bit her lip, imagining the smile that must also be on her girl's face. “What you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. That ain't how you ask nobody out. You wanna try again, lil mamas?”

“Man, you wanna go out or not? Cause ain't no–”

Zariyah’s reprimanding pitch held all of its ferocity through the phone, and it’d be a lie to say Riri didn't seek her girl’s signature bite, “Uh-uh, I don't play with you like that Riri, watch that mouth. I ain't one a them.”

“Oh you not?” She quipped, twirling the end of her braids poking out from under her scarf.

“Nah. Now ask me out properly before I hang up this damn phone.”

She waited a few beats, deliberately trying to piss off the gorgeous girl on the other line. “Ain't you the one who called me though? You the one who wanted to be on my line, right?” Her smirk played in her words, forming fully when she tuned in to that inevitable sigh of frustration she perked her ears up for.

“Riri. Don't piss–”

Riri’s fingers massaged the necklace clasped around her neck, kicking her dangling feet as she spoke, “I would like to take you out Zariyah. You gon let me?”

“That really ain't no better. But, I guess I can squeeze you into my oh-so-busy schedule. When's this date? This is a date right?” Riri detected the twinge of uncertainty lacing Zariyah’s questions, which only broadened her sly little grin.

“It can be a date,” She started, shaking her head at the butterflies waking in her depths. “Tonight?”

Zariyah giggled, “Tonight works. Where you taking me?”

“Just be ready by seven, which for you is really eight, cause you know how you be.” Riri teased.

She could feel the eye roll hurled her way, and Zariyah’s tone of voice gave away her faux annoyance. “Oh don't do me. Ima be ready when I’m ready, how bout that!”

“Okay Z,” She conceded. “Ima see you tonight.”

“See you tonight, Ri baby.”

She clobbered out of bed after ending the call with the dumbest little smile, socked feet dragging her to the bathroom. It only lasted so long though.

Riri glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror, hoisting her damp toothbrush to her mouth just as flashes of your lips flooded her senses, and she resisted the urge to smash her head into the mirror before her. Maybe a self-induced concussion could scrub you from her memory.

•••

“Riri, when you said you was taking me out, this ain't what I had in mind.” Zariyah’s complaints were predictable, making Riri shake her head at the red-haired girl straggling behind her.

She tossed her question back, already aware of the response she'd get from this as well. “What, you too bougie for Freeda’s now?”

“Yes.”

She stuffed her fist into her pocket, striding languidly to the door with that silly grin curling her mouth. Freeda's wouldn't typically be a designated date spot for Riri either, but she had to admit her intentions for the night surpassed the innocence of simply taking Zariyah out.

She wanted to see you.

You didn't get to act like she wasn't worthy of acknowledgment. And showing up to your job was sort of her last resort, because you couldn't avoid her here. Showing up alone, however, that could send the wrong message, hence, the Zariyah of it all. “Girl, shut up and come on.”

She opened the door, holding it wide for her unimpressed girl, but she smiled still, because Riri had that effect on her.

“Welcome in, Ima be with y’all in a minute. Just sit wherever.” You hadn't turned as you spoke, but your drawl made Riri shudder all the same. A rehearsed line, she'd heard it countless times on her many visits to the diner, but when you said it now, her hot blood ran cold.

She smirked to herself as she realized; Riri had missed the sound of your voice.

“Alright,” When you approached their booth, bewilderment charged your deep eyes, your forever-taut shoulders tensing in understanding. “H-Hey y’all…”

Oh, fucking finally, she’d cornered you, regaining her status, once again, as cat to your mouse. You couldn't run, the panicked lightning in your irises vindicating this fact, and Riri smirked, content with where she had you now.

Your eyes competed with hers, vehement, determined, wanting desperately not to falter. You were struggling under her scrutiny though, she could tell. And for whatever reason, it pleased her, knowing that even after your decision to steer clear of her, the cards belonged to her still.

“Aww Ri baby, Keem’s girl works here! Hi cutie. I love your hair!”

“Yeah,” Her eyes stalked your uniform, sly as ever, noticing the abrupt inhale you failed to bury. Your rising chest would pass anyone by, but not Riri, because she reveled in your body's mechanical reaction to her staring. You couldn't help it, poor thing.

God, she missed eyeing you until you shook under her unwavering gleam. She missed your face. Fuck. “She do.”

You cleared your throat, evidently uncomfortable with all of this, red nails strangling the pen in your vice grip. It was an intense sight to behold, a tad amusing, and it replenished Riri's weakened ego. “Uh, th-thanks. Can I start y’all off with s-some drinks?”

Riri couldn't speak, far too bewitched by your hair hissing her name, drawing her in close, close, closer until she caught herself sliding to the edge of the booth, causing you to back up some with a broken exhale. Her skin heated, attention fleeting your face as she scratched her neck awkwardly.

She understood it now, her sudden draw to you. It was your hair’s doing. Fucking Medusa. But with the ability to liquefy rather than harden.

Your hand pranced across the pad as you wrote what she could only assume to be Zariyah's order, she wasn't paying attention, her focus now collared by the jarring thing she thought to be impending: an eruption of blue ink. She pitied that pen, unaware that it’d just become a weapon of mass destruction. You were similar to the writing utensil in that regard; you too remained heedless to your power.

If only Riri was to be so lucky, because she knew the might you held, she fucking felt it. It's the same sensation she vied for yesterday in class, the same force she allowed to plunder her dreams. It was here now, bombarding her senses as you stood so close, colluding with your conniving fragrance.

That crackle of saffron she could recognize with the faintest intake of air.

“And uh, for you, Riri? You know what you want too or you need a minute?”

When you said her name she internalized how your soft eyes hardened, at the same moment hers melted completely. “Fries and a coke.”

“That's all you getting, baby? You sure?”

She nodded, head dancing to the beat of your hair's song.

“Okay. Ima get these in for y’all.” You smiled at an ever-clueless Zariyah, and Riri would trip into that too, if it weren't feigned.

Riy reached across the table, tattooed hands cupping Riri’s, “Ri, oh my god, guess what happened at work today!”

You walked away, tossing loose red tendrils over your shoulder as you dismissed Riri like an afterthought, and she couldn't help the flare of irritation sparking in her chest. “What happened at work today, baby?”

Riri had zoned out when Riy began her ramblings about the number of holes she poked in the faces of strangers at work, becoming distracted when a completely different server brought their drinks out. Was this another attempt to stay away from her?

She stalked your steps as you moved to clear a recently departed table, and she figured no time like the present.

“Z, I gotta go um, ask shawty bout an assignment for class,” She pointed to you. “Ima be right back.”

Zariyah nodded, smiling shyly, “Don't go too far. I'm gon miss you.”

“You're cute.” Riri huffed a laugh before standing, stepping out of the booth to make her way over to where you worked.

She followed the wave of your perfume, stopping short when she almost bumped into you. “Shit, my fault.”

“The fuck do you want Riri?”

“Oh we cussing now? That's crazy.” Her words worked only to piss you off, making Riri smirk some when they woke that breathing vein in your temple. “Talking to me like I’m Keem or something.”

“Riri, your food gon be out in a minute. Just go back to your girlfriend and let me do my fucking job.” You faced away from her, swiping the rag in your fist over the same spot for the seventh time since she approached you.

Riri chuckled, intrigued to see how far she could get with this unfamiliar version of you. “Bussing tables ain't really that hard though, is it?”

Your grip on the soaked cloth tightened, suffering the same fate as that mangled little blue pen from moments ago. “What the fuck–”

“That the only cuss word you know?” Her hip pressed into the table, vision trained on the soapy water gushing from the rag you were choking.

“Maybe. You know us dummies don't really got much going on up here.” You gestured to your head, knocking your finger directly against the vein blinking there.

She kissed her teeth, “You still on that?”

“If you not here to apologize, then Ima need you to get the fuck out my face, Riri.”

Riri barked a laugh, you were fucking hilarious. “Apologize? Ain't yo ass the one who broke my shit? I think them fumes you inhaling right now might actually be affecting your lil smarts, cause if anybody deserves an apology, it's me.”

You dropped the rag, regarding her fully now, your emotionless expression making her feel smaller than she actually was. Riri found herself wanting to breathe in your frustration as you blew it down to her, but she refrained. She shouldn't. She wouldn't. She could not. “Ion have time for this.”

“Okay, okay. My bad, damn.”

“Your bad?”

“Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes, your expression brittle as its dust landed on the small engineer stood in front of you, dry words bristling her entire body, you hadn't seemed to notice though. Because you didn't care, Riri realized. “And what is my bad supposed to mean?”

“Girl, the fuck is with your lil attitude? You said you wanted an apology, and your ungrateful ass–”

Your laughter carried, and it was loud enough to garner unwanted glances, including one from a rather bored-looking Zariyah at the far end of the diner. “Maybe Keem wasn't lying when he said your lil ass was funny, cause if this is your definition of an apology, we gotta get you on a stage and shove a microphone in them baby fists. It's giving comedian for real.”

This was the first time Riri Williams found herself lacking a comeback.

An empty stare colored her face as she watched your attempt to vacate her presence, leaving her brain with only one viable option.

She didn't stop her arm’s extension when it reached for you, and you hadn't protested when her skin touched yours. She held you in place, dismissing the intrusive thought encouraging her to tug you in closer. She couldn't do that.

You kept your flared eyes on her fingers wrapped around you, sighing unsteadily, the contact overwhelming you. Riri could tell, though she was unsure if this was her goal. She spared a glance at Zariyah who still peered at the two of you curiously, trying, and failing to care about the visual your current positions must be emitting.

“I ain't mean all that shit from the other night.”

“All what shit?” Shaky, damn near breathless — your tone from earlier had betrayed you, stealing your confidence, and placing it directly in Riri’s palm for her to do with it what she wished.

Her voice was softer when she spoke to you this time, housing patience as she refused to let you go. “I shouldn't have slammed the door in your face. I know that, I can own that. I know you ain't mean to break my shit.”

The slow creep of your smirk alerted her that she was wrong; your assurance had not waned; it blossomed, and her hand indeed remained empty. Blackness guzzled your eyes, and Riri was forced to watch as their mirth disappeared.

“Aww, you want a cookie? You ain't order one, but we got some in the back,” You pointed over your shoulder. “Ain't nothing you just said worth a damn to me. You don't get to show up at my job with some bootleg apology cause your guilty conscience keeping you up at night, nah, shit don't work like that.” You snarled, yanking your wrist free wickedly, pointing to the server bringing out her food. “Your food’s out.”

Again, Riri was left dumbfounded by your astute observations about her as you sauntered off to the back, your ruby serpents admonishing her with their sway. Their once euphonic hiss turned into lethal venom spat directly into her face, aiding her reluctant hand in concurrence — you’d turned her into the mouse she once chased.

Maybe she’d misconstrued just how powerful you really were.

“Ri baby, the food’s here.” Zariyah called, rescuing Riri just as she was about to sink into her mind’s rapids, and she smiled on her trot back to the table, abandoning her seat across from the taller girl, opting to sit directly beside her instead.

Riy gaped at Riri for a second, but she didn't question their new seating arrangement. “Everything good with your assignment?”

“Huh? Oh, um, yeah.” She upheld her lie, pecking Zariyah on the cheek. “I tell you how fine you look tonight?”

“Girl, eat them fries.” Riy rolled her eyes.

Riri laughed, but did as she was told, sliding a greasy fry onto her starving tongue.

Tastebuds tangoed with the flavor skipping across them, and she blushed, like actually blushed, the hot flush of sudden embarrassment baking her skin. Riri hadn't asked for seasoned salt on her fries, in all honesty, she'd forgotten to, too caught up in you and your embers. But there it was, sprinkled across her food just the way she liked it, and a small smile scratched its way free, etching its shape deep into her face when she noticed your emergence from the kitchen.

Exhausted eyes averted her vicinity, but Riri stared anyway, because once her gaze met your face, it was usually hard for her to rip it away. You could've requested the cook spit in her food, and it probably would've been justified, but you didn't. Instead, you did what you always did, you perplexed her just by being.

Even though you were angry at her, you thought of her still. You were like her in that regard.

The blush crawling her body stayed put the longer her pupils gawked at you. You were putting your hair in a ponytail, all fifty-two faux locs, well, except for one in the back. You missed that one. Riri didn't; it's where she fixed her brown orbs, on that lone loc dangling and tickling your pretty neck.

You were facing her now, the sear of her stare steering your turn. Irritation rested on your cheeks still, but it held no relevance, as she smirked at you, because your eyes had regained their mirth-filled deepness, and it took only the gentlest flick of your lips for her to plummet into their abyss completely unguarded.

As her smirk slackened, Riri felt her Earth shake, her highest walls deteriorating and coming undone all around her. The feelings she wrestled to keep outside would soon be awarded entry, and Hakeem's haunting question was on the verge of gaining an answer.

She kept watch of you, gulping down the remnants of potato in her mouth before surrendering.

Riri liked you.

And the acceptance of this truth scared her shitless, exposing her helpless little body to a creature far more petrifying than a measly little monster in the closet.

#haven’t even read it yet #I’m PRESSED #mind you I’m posting this mid lecture-

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