Don't Forget About Me| August Alsina Story

|42|

That Girl

The Next Morning

August (POV)

Waking up with a warmth wrapped all around me, I looked down at a peacefully sleeping Armani. She had her head rested on my chest while her arm wrapped tightly around my torso.

I didn't mean to stare at her but that's what I always found myself doing whenever she came around. I mean I couldn't help but to take in all of her perfection. She was truly a sight to see, and my eyes were blessed with every image I got of her — especially this one.

This was the only time I seen her so calm and at ease. She wasn't forcing herself to smile or to be happy and at peace, she just was. When she was asleep her face held such an content expression like she was finally happy, like she wasn't upset with the world.

Last night I got a glimpse at how vulnerable and open she really was. We didn't exchange words, but our eyes said it all. I seen so much emotion in them when she cried her tears of pain and frustration onto my chest. It was the craziest feeling ever to me simply because... it hurt, but why?

Why did I feel some type of way because she was crying out her heart? Yes, I hate to see any woman cry, hell, who doesn't; but it was something about her shedding tears that didn't sit well with me. She was so strong for everybody else, that she didn't even notice that the strength she had was slowly fading away.

I'm so used to seeing her hide her pain behind that fake ass smile and her 'I'll fuck you up' attitude that I've never actually seen her.....vibrant so to speak. I've never seen her happy.

Don't get me wrong, she was one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on, it's just the way she carries herself, you can tell she hurts.

But looking down at her now, you would think she had not a care in the world and her life was a fairytale story with the happiest ending, but of course even I know....

That's the furthest thing from the truth.

She started to stir a little in her sleep letting me know her eyes would soon be revealed to me.

"Ya' know it's not polite ta' stare Aug?" She questioned in a rather sarcastic tone, while her eyes remained closed.

Just then a memory tried to form in my head, but I just pushed it to the side and continued to stare at this amazingly gorgeous lady.

Once her eyes fluttered open, I got overwhelmingly nervous. Her eyes were so amazing and beautiful. They held such a spectacular light brown hue, which went great with the way the sun bounced off her clear honey coated skin. Something about this moment seemed so familiar, so nostalgic— as if I'd lived this moment before.

By the look on her face I guess she felt the same way.

It was so difficult not remembering the two of them, because I had these unexplainable feelings towards them; strong feelings that I couldn't explain where the hell they were coming from. It's like when your trying to put a name with a face—you know you've heard the name and seen the face, but you had no idea that they both went together.