The faint glow of the moon glisten through the drapes over his tanned skin, daring me to awaken all the forbidden desires I kept buried in my thoughts.
"Use me," He whimpers as my knees stoop to the floor,
❝... I am rightfully and solely yours, Aa...
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THE HURRIED rush of people around me going in various directions for their separate reason(s) fascinates my thoughts.
We are all here in this specific spot at this exact millisecond engaging in our own differences.
The glossed sidewalks were overwhelmingly beside lofty Victorian-styled structures with every other person walking in and out of them.
All you could hear were the noisy engines of the red transport buses passing along with the contriving movement of humans striding and chatting along the sidewalk.
Zoya could tell that I was beguiled by the city of dreams and silently led the way to the café.
We enter a place called The Ivy. The outline of the entrance door stood coated with a variety of bright, multicolored flowers, and you acquire the aroma of sweet honey walking into the restaurant.
There were plants in golden hanging planters on the ceilings with white and yellow orchids in vases displayed in different areas of the lobby, expressing an earthly welcome with nature.
Zoya checked in with the hostess about our party, and the person beside them guided us toward the terrace to a white-clothed table surrounded by two other people.
You got this, Aaliyah, for her and for one.
A boy with slightly tan skin and wavy blonde curls that stopped above his ears got up from his orange cushioned seat and jogged over to Zoya, then wrapped her in a yearning hug to which she reciprocated.
"Quiubo?" he asks with his eyes softly shut with a Spanish accent that I can't quite place.
"Nothing much, just the same family drama," Zoya replies while lightly squeezing the tall figure.
There was a girl seated by the unnamed boy, that I had never seen before, or at least in the photo, Valerie had in her phone case.
But, she was ethereally breathing-taking.
The girl had lovely black soft locs flowing down her back, wearing a lime green blouse that compliments her dark skin, with the first two buttons unscrewed, the lower center tucked in her light wash knee-rip jeans, and the shine of her matching green heels as she rises and walks over when the other two pulls away from their fleeting embrace.
I reach out my hand to greet myself, but she looks at my hand and back up at me with annoyance.
Ouch.
I think you could sense the uneasiness in my face because Zoya throws her a don't glare, and the girl shrugged and pulled her in for a longing hug.
The blonde-haired guy comes up to me and gives me a warming smile. "Don't mind Olivia; she's not exactly used to new people. I'm Asher, but people call me Ash. I don't think I've seen you around."
