[You Got My Soul]

12°

» "it's pitiful that when I'm wit' them other bitches I pretend it's you..."

Tiller Household;

"My stepdad is sick, he's going to the emergency room and I'm going to the hospital with him." Paris said to Bryson who was currently stuffing dirty clothes under his bed.

"Foreal? Want me to come with you? I can tell Mya to come over another time." He offered.

As much as Paris would rather have him with her as opposed to Mya, she wasn't selfish.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. Have fun with Mya— well, not too much fun." She corrected herself. Bryson laughed and shook his head to himself.

"Ah, you know I'm not like that." He sucked his teeth and chuckled.

"I don't know, I left you for a summer and when I came back..." She trailed off.

"That's just 'cause I was fifteen and horny. I was also being proactive." He informed with a smirk as he thought about it.

"Proactive?" Paris asked, confused.

"Yea, now I know what to do so that the girl I'm going to give it to every night will be satisfied."

Paris covered her mouth before the squeal in her throat could come up. Instead of responding, she simply vocalized a hum of acknowledgement.

"Paris? You ok, girl?" Bryson asked as the other end of the phone was trying to contain her ovaries.

"Uh, yea. John is ready to go, I'll talk to you later." She said quickly and hung up the phone before he had a chance to respond.

Usually, he'd call back. He learned from his mother that you never end a conversation without proper closure. You never know if that'll be the last time you talk to them. But, he realized that Paris was probably in hurry so he just texted her.

I like the way you hung up on me, real cute. Call me when you leave the hospital. Hope the grinch feels better. Love ya, kid.

I sat his phone down and continued to do what was his version of cleaning his room for his company.

When Mya arrived, Bryson answered the front door, smile wide and welcoming.

"Hey, beautiful." He greeted, giving her a hug. She smiled and embraced him equally.

"Hey!"

"Let's go up to my room, I don't want to bother my aunt." He grabbed her hand and led her upstairs to his bedroom.

"Your room is so...boyish." Mya said sitting on his bed bed and setting down her purse.

"That's the same thing Paris said." He laughed, "I tried to straighten up for you but, ya know."

"Aww, that was sweet you, Bryson."

"What can I say? I'm just sweet, Bryson." He shrugged, licking his lips.

Slightly turned on, Mya pulled hair out of the ponytail it was in and fanned herself.