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Psalms drew in the air as the wind baited him to turn around. His hands sweated as he struggled to swallow like he was in need of water. The apartment stared at him like it was hunting his soul. He had hurt her, he had hurt his friend. Khavi was a lot of things, she was real, dependable, and an angel-sent. His mind was boggled with trying to understand the love he had for her and don't confuse it he did love Khavi. Everything he said although it was confusing bewilderment. It was true.
The autumn air and leaves fell around him as he tried to figure out what to say to her. He felt nervous because Psalms was never in the realm of breaking people's hearts. The shit with them had blurred so many lines, that it almost seemed impossible to put them back up.
"Fuck," he grumbled as he took the sidewalk with long strides. The pocket of his jeans began to vibrate and he pulled out the phone, face stressing seeing Syrai calling. It wasn't that he didn't want her call, he did. Psalms was happy that they had gotten to the point where they could talk to each other, but if she knew where he was she would probably hang up instantly. He had got shit so far off track that it almost tripped him up that his relationships, the ones he cherished the most, would be changed.
"Wassup, baby." he swooned on the phone.
"Hey, Psalms." He laughed because Syrai was not budging from being platonic friends. He understood she had some demons to work through so he would give her time. But there is no way for him to ever be that with her and have nothing more. He ran his hands through his dreads freeing them from the hair tie.
"You still going with this bullshit huh? Wassup mane."
"Bullshit. Huh? I'll just talk to you la—"
"Chill out. I'm sorry aight'. I was out of line. You good?" He quired. The word sorry didn't even sound right falling from his lips. The caking shit on the phone was so far-fetched for him, but everything he had changed. Love had changed him.
"I just wanted to hear yo voice," he listened to her moving around on the phone until she settled. "I've just been really tired," she yawned.
"What's --," Psalms paused. His eyes watched as Khavi's front door flew open and the white man stalked out. Yelling and storming to his car. "Let me call you back." He didn't wait for a response before he hung up the phone. Psalms moved with heavy steps to the front door and knocked with a hammer weight.
The door swung open as Khavi stood in a robe. "Jace, why are you-" Khavi stopped as her eyes widened, well as far the left could go as it was practically swollen shut. Psalms stepped back as his nostrils flared, his eyes which had been gleaming so bright had turned to an unmistakable darkness. She tried to turn away but he reached out and gripped her chin, turning her face slowly. They stood there for what seemed like hours. Khavi's chest was inflicted with pain because she never wanted him to see her like this. So weak, the one thing he had told her not to be. After the car show, she knew. Khavi knew that although she may have held a piece of his heart, Syrai encompassed the rest.
