Rather Go Blind

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You can taste the dishonesty
It's all over your breath
As you pass it off so cavalier
But even that's a test
Constantly aware of it all
My lonely ear
Pressed against the walls of your world

Pray to catch you whispering
I pray you catch me listening
I'm praying to catch you whispering
I pray you catch me

-Pray You Catch Me, Beyoncé

• • •

Midtown AtlantaSeven's Apartment Zone 5𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑫𝑨𝒀, 𝑱𝑼𝑳𝒀 𝟐𝟐𝑵𝑫

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Midtown Atlanta
Seven's Apartment
Zone 5

Seven snapped a few pictures of herself as she stood in front of her full body mirror. Today was the day of Porscha's birthday event, and Seven was obsessed with her semi-formal look. Though the classy aesthetic wasn't really her thing, she wore it exceptionally well. She felt like a pageant queen or something out of a magazine.

"You look mad good," Yosohn licked his lips, admiring the way that Seven's Maison Margiela dress clung to her slim-thick frame.

"Thank you. You clean up nice yourself Mr. Smith," Seven smirked, running her small hands over the fabric of his Giorgio Armani suit jacket.

He leaned down, kissing her soft pink lips ever so sweetly. The two of them gazed at one another, smiling simultaneously. Their eyes exuding love and infatuation. They found themselves getting lost in each other so effortlessly. Both were so far gone and didn't even realize it yet.

The blaring sound of Yosohn's cellphone interrupted their little moment. He retrieved the device from his pocket, answering the call without looking at the caller ID since only a select few people had his personal phone number. He exchanged a few quick words with whomever was on the other line and ended the call.

"That was my driver. He's waiting out front. You ready?" Yosohn asked Seven.

She nodded, grabbing her black Christian Dior saddle wallet and her keys. Securing her apartment, she interlocked her fingers with Yosohn's as they headed to the elevator.

A tall African American man dressed in a white button down shirt and dark grey slacks stood near a black Cadillac Escalade,  awaiting the two love birds. As they approached the blacked out vehicle, the chauffeur greeted them, concurrently opening the back passenger's side door. Yosohn allowed Seven to enter first, slickly caressing her plump rear in the process. That was clearly one of his favorite physical features of hers.

"Hands to yourself sir," Seven jested.

Yosohn chuckled, draping his arm around her shoulder as the vehicle began to accelerate.

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