one shots

shorty swing my way [43]

august 2004
wednesday
8:46 am

I awakened on the couch, the sultry singing of Sade and the rambunctious sounds of pots and pans waking me up from my slumber. I meant to sneak back to bed with DeAndré before he'd notice I was gone, but it seems as though I wasn't successful in doing so.

I slowly sat up from my lying position on the couch, finding the home pretty quiet and still, besides the music and making of breakfast that was taking place. I glanced toward the kitchen, finding DeAndré standing over the stove and nodding his head to the musical stylings of one of our favorite artists.

I got up from the couch and stretched while making my way toward the kitchen. "Good morning, Honey," I smiled, announcing the fact I was awake while approaching him. He smiled slightly at the sight of me before I wrapped my arms around him from behind and left kisses along his back.

"Good morning," he replied softly as my hands moved up and down his abs and my lips lined his neck. "It smells amazing in here. What are you makin'?" I asked, standing on my toes in attempt to see over his shoulder.

"Omelettes. . . Just the way you like it. I added some different stuff in there too, but I think you'll love it," he nodded.
"You're so thoughtful, baby," I smiled slightly.

"What are the plans for today?" I asked.
"Whatever you want," he answered.
"Let's just be bored together. You remember when we used to do that? Those were the best days," I reminisced fondly.

"Yeah, okay," he agreed.

We ate breakfast in peace, and I wondered where Lesane and Ashley were. I didn't bother to ask out loud, but the thought did linger for a bit. After breakfast, I gathered all the things that were necessary for a good hair washing.

He sat on the floor between my legs smoking weed while I took his braids down and detangled his hair. Cherry Pie played, making us both sing along as his fingertips ran up and down one of my legs smoothly. Once his hair was detangled, I washed and conditioned it before getting some coconut oil to seal in the moisture. With that, I added heat protectant.

I was sitting on the counter while he stood between my thighs getting his hair blow-dried. "I've been thinkin' about getting a perm, shorty. What do you think?" he smirked.
"You out of yo' damn mind, DeAndré," I shook my head while continuing to blow his hair and comb at the same time. He simply chuckled before glancing down a little.

"You know what this week is?" he asked as his hands found my thick thighs.
I shook my head, my eyes still focused on his healthy hair.

"It's our five year anniversary," he answered.
"Oh, shit. Is it really? What's today?" I inquired.
"It was actually on Sunday, but I figured that we should still celebrate," he suggested with a nod as I shut off the hairdryer.

"You remembered after all these years?" I asked, gazing up at him sympathetically.
"Of course I did. . . I mean, it's only been five years. Why would I forget? How could I forget when I got your initials and the date tatted on me?" he hooked one of his pinkies onto one of the fingers on my left hand.

I couldn't help but feel a little guilty because I didn't remember. My wedding band had faded a while ago, and I never bothered to get it touched up. I never really took into account how hand tattoos fade faster than tattoos elsewhere, but I figured that I wouldn't need a reminder of the monster I fell in love with. Let that shit fade, I remember thinking.

"I get it touched up on every now and then," he mumbled as my eyes drifted to his left hand, where the wedding band looked as new as ever.
"I see," I whispered as he laced his right hand with my left and brought it toward his lips.