Amouranna, better known as Amora, has always seen the world differently from everybody else. Being rich and having everything handed to her on a silver platter was all she knew. After being roughly pushed into a new environment, she must awaken from...
Amora didn't respond, she just stared down at the scar. Xavier was so rough around the edges but it seemed like he just went through a lot in his past that made him that way. "How?" She asked, now peering into his eyes.
"I was 15, young and dumb. I was just starting to push weight for my OG and I had jumped off the porch. Niggas was hatin' on me. I had to survive off that, though." He told the story lowly, remembering his rough teen years. "I wasn't ready for the kind of shit that was around me but I had to be. One day I fought this nigga, he had to be at least nineteen. I beat his ass. Next thing you know, him and his boys pulled up deep. I should've known it wasn't no fair fight."
Amora continued to rub on his body, a form of affection. She was listening intently because for the first time— Xavier was being vulnerable to her. "Then what happened?" She asked softly, letting him know she was listening.
"Pulled a knife on me. I got stabbed eight times and they left me on the curb, bleeding out. I couldn't even move, I thought I was gone die that day." Xavier remembered every small thing that formed him into the person he was now. "Then my brother saved me. Ace."
"You were so young." Amora felt bad. At fifteen, she was having her way. She had everything she needed in her household. She had the money, clothes, shoes, and most importantly love surrounded her. She was well protected and never needed to go out and hustle to survive.
Xavier shrugged, "It is what it is."
That'd been his mindset for so long, he couldn't remember feeling sorry for himself. He knew the risks that came with being in the streets and did it anyways. So, that was his philosophy. He couldn't change a thing in his past so instead of dealing with it and dwelling on it, he just let it simmer. However, hearing the story saddened Amora's heart. It made her realize people go through things just like her, if not worse.
"You know, you remind me of my moms." He mused, circling her hips. "You got a big heart, 'Mora. I can tell that based off how you looking like a sad puppy and shit. You can't let other people experience make you sad."
"I mean, when I was 15, I wasn't worried about getting stabbed or 'pushing weight.' It's crazy to hear, you know?"
"That's the difference between me and you. We two different people with different backgrounds. You had it easy it seem like," He stroked his beard, "Come to think of it; how you end up here?"
The question had Amora stuck. How did I end up here? There was no easy way to answer it nor could she really tell her truth. "Life," was all she said. The entire time she spent in Crown Heights was a humbling experience. Xavier understood.
He grabbed her necklace, with the heart pendant engraved 'D'. "I meant to ask you, who is D?"
Amora slightly panicked in her head, "My father. He passed away." She kept it short, she figured if she didn't say too much it would be alright.
Xavier was now curious because he began to realize Amora was short on her life. She never fully opened up about anything when it came to family matters or how she went from one place to another. There were more layers to her and he wanted to figure it out. However, it was a bit hard because Xavier genuinely began to catch feelings for Amora.
• • •
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
