Black Cherry °Jimin AMBW°

04

Lauren//

I peeked outside my door once I heard the clicking sound of his door close. I will admit, I was creeping on him. But only for a good reason. He was hot and cute at the same time.

I ran and looked through the peeping hole when I heard the sound of wheels rolling on the floor come closer and closer. My eyes popped out of my head seeing him unlock his door.

His deep, dark red hair draped down on his forehead and into his tiny eyes. The color reminded me of ripe black cherries during the summer.

Black cherries being my favorite fruit, I decided to give my new neighbor a bag of the fruit and an 'innocent' note.

Scribbling down what I wanted to say, I shuffled out the door. Nearly banging my baby toe on the door's frame. Sitting the bag down neatly. I patted it with a smile before letting my knuckles kiss the door.

Footsteps came near, getting ready to open the door. Internally jumping, I raced back into my apartment as if I was being chased by dogs.

Looking out the hole again, I saw him look around before down. Crouching to get a better look.

Eyes scamming over the paper with his juicy lips moving. Until he paused. Nearly dropping the paper.

"Oh my god." He gasped, picking up the cherries and rushing inside his house.

Wow. I didn't expect him to like the note that much.

I turned and slouched against the door, swimming in my imagination. Imagining us falling in love over this because he thought this was sweet.

No, I'm not about to think like a crazy. I need to get out of my house now.

Texting my friend from work, Natasha. I actually don't know how we even became friends. I believe I kept leaving cherry juice on our work space from my dripping lunch bag until she caught me.

Me: Club tonight?

Natasha: Nah girl, my man is coming over. He gonna eat good tonight. ;-) Maybe tomorrow?

This is what I want! To feed my man some food and other stuff. Like cherries. But good men are hard to find, girl. I can't explain it further than that because it's the truth.

My red nails touched the keys.

Me: That's good. Have fun Tashie.

Well that was a bust. Thinking my ass was about to go party. Or....
I looked up at my hair and reached to feel it. It did feel rather oily. Oilier than usual.

Guess tonight is wash night with me and my baby.

The comb's teeth snatched the kink in my wet hair. Resulting me in swearing. I've been sitting in this chair for over three hours. Detangling, scratching, and yanking on my head as my tired fingers searched in the maze of hair.

Numerous of times I thought about getting it cut because it was too much. Days when I come home from work and want to hop in bed. But I can't because I have to twist my hair for three to four hours. Then three more hours in the morning to do it.

It's inevitable. Can't escape it. Just like a love hate relationship.

Going to comb it again, this time the comb got stuck. Not bothering to force it out. I lazily put my bonnet on and left the bathroom.

Finishing it tomorrow. That is if I get out of bed.

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Short chapters in the beginning but it'll get longer as I write more. ☺

~Shauna