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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 5 years

Text

Arguments

“Slow up on this curve,” Erik rushes, arm reaching out to snatch the wheel. Driving with him in the passenger seat is anxiety-inducing. The way he'd stomp his foot as if stepping on the brakes when he thought you were going too fast made you want to flip the car over or go faster.

“Erik? You drive faster than me!... Calm down.”

“I can drive at that speed and still drive well. You, don't drive well enough t--Slow the hell down! I know I wanted to die in the past, but I ain't ready to crossover right now, aight!?”

“ERIK! SHUT UP, I KNOW HOW TO DRIVE.”

“You gone kill us both,” he grumbles. You turn the music up so he can shut up and for a while he does until your phone buzzes with a text and you check it, using one hand to read it and respond. “Isis.. ISIS,” Erik yells gripping the wheel from the passenger seat. The car had drifted a bit out of the lane toward the thin shoulder of the road, but it wasn't like it was something you did often. It just so happened to happen while he was in the car driving up your blood pressure. “I KEEP TELLING YO DUMB ASS NOT TO TEXT AND DRIVE! You gone fuck around and die on the road and it's gone be your fault!"

"What you're NOT gonna do is sit there and call me a dumbass because you have issues with my driving." You pull over at the next opportunity purposely swerving into an outdoor strip of about five storefronts and you get out, slamming the door. He watches as you storm to his side of the car snatching his door open. "You drive, muthafucka."

"There you go acting stupid. Don't drive like a dumbass checking texts and speeding when you ain't that great of a driver to begin with and I won't call you a dumbass."

"If I'm a dumbass, you a jackass for riding with me."

"I am, shit. Hella reckless for that."

"Just drive then since you got a problem with how I do it! And don't fuckin talk to me," you snap watching him climb from the passenger seat and walk around to plop down at the wheel.

◇

"I don't give a fuck you ain't talking to me, that silent treatment shit don't hurt me. You talk too much anyway."

Ignoring him you look out of the window, hoping to hurry up and get home so that he can get the hell out of your face.

"Do you need to stop anywhere before we get home," he asks slowly. You ignore him again. "Fuck it then."

The car finally pulls into the driveway and you're the first in the house. You run upstairs to use the bathroom and trip over Erik's boots on the floor. "ERIK," you scream, "I TOLD YOU TO MOVE YOUR GODDAMN BOOTS OUT THE WAY! PUT THEM IN THE CLOSET!" He ignores you, being petty. When you walk down the stairs into the kitchen, you notice he's staring at you and you kiss your teeth. "Get out my face, Erik."

"It was yo turn to do the fuckin dishes. Why you ain't do em? That's lazy as hell."

"Lazy as you leaving your clothes every damn wear? You always doing that shit," you clap in frustration.

"I left my shoes one time and my pants like twice yet you on that always shit! I don't alway--"

"And I washed the damn dishes before I went to work this morning, nigga, do you see a dish? Countertops clean as fuck!"

"You didn't touch the stove or table!'

"I. HAD. TO. LEAVE," you clap and when he comes back at you, you're too annoyed to retaliate. You're just over the whole situation. Throwing a hand up, you walk away.

"Why whenever I wanna make a point you try to end the conversation, but you expect me to listen to you? Can't nobody call you on your shit without you getting fuckin tired."

"Erik! Don't fuckin talk to me! You got an issue with every damn thing so have your issue and don't fuckin talk to me," you yell snatching your keys. It's either put hands on him or leave. He scoffs.

"Uhuh. Don't crash and die while you acting like a damn child, DUMBASS," he yells as you run out the front door.

◇

Since Erik is acting stupid, you don't want to be at home. You drive to the upscale mall instead for some retail therapy. He texts and because you're conditioned to, you check it.

Get your dumbass home.

Fuck that nigga. Ignoring his next few texts, you go in and out of stores doing some light shopping, buying a new suit with matching shoes for work. Then you go in a home decor store to look at spoons and towels. More texts. You finally take a peak.

Fucc u 2 then

Such a damn brat

U can't handle nobody saying shit to u

U gon leave every time I say some u don't like?

You pissed me the fuck off and I ain't leave that's the difference between me and you

You hella childish

He so mad it done fixed his spelling. You end up buying a new set of both, spoons and towels. Mostly you just walk around wasting time until you get hungry and leave the mall in search of real food.. Specific food. You decide it's time to drive across town to a restaurant you looove called Secret Society where you order a huge whiskey bacon burger, mac, wings, and a slice of cheesecake. Something about the food here is addictive. Maybe they put crack in it.

You've ignored your phone for the whole time you've been there, eating slowly. It takes a different notification to get your attention.. cash app.

$50 sent for food and drink. You wonder how he knew you were at a restaurant but then remember his overprotective ass always has your location. "Okay Stevens," you unwillingly smile sipping your lemonade. He definitely knows how to piss you off, but he also knows how to redeem himself.

You're still irritated though. Don't talk to him? Oh you weren't about to do that anyway. You text him a quick 'ILY2' and continue to ignore him. He doesn't hit you up again but you know he's got his phone and he's checking it religiously. You also know you'll be home in the early AM sometime around 1:30 - 2:00. You have to, he can't sleep well when you're gone.

Fic Inspo:

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