so many mini-stories and scenes pop into my head & i have absolutely no time to develop them into full novels so I'm making a book of one shots.
This book will feature people that I feel should be utilized more in fanfics or be casted in leading ro...
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november 1999 saturday 7:54 pm
"Yo, what's up?" he smiled while letting his arms wrap me up in warmth. "Hey," I smiled weakly, loving how nice he smelled.
He squeezed me tightly before stepping to the side so that I could walk into his home. It was fully furnished and consisted of a lot of earth tones and warm colors like red and a deep orange. There were only a few more boxes that needed to be unpacked from what I could see. Most the walls were pretty blank besides the paint that covered them.
"It's good to see you, Renée. You look better and better every time I see you," he was the least bit discrete with checking me out as I faced him. "You too, Lesane," I admired his trimmed facial hair and beautiful smile.
"You want a drink or somethin'?" he asked. "Yeah. I'll take some water," I replied. "Cool. Well, go ahead and make yourself at home," he insisted before ducking off into the kitchen.
I walked into his living room and sat down on his couch, getting settled on the relatively soft material of the seat. I glanced around, picking up a mainly Afrocentric vibe throughout the rest of his home. I admired how the aesthetic was very much black yet a little bohemian and earthy. I also took note of how every room was different, the living being mainly red and black and tan while his bedroom— from what I could see from the couch— was gold and black and tan. It might've just been the various browns and blacks and olive greens and beiges and reds that was giving me vibes of afrocentricism. Who knows?
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"So, D told me you were on your artistic tip. He said you could hook me up with some pieces for my crib. Is what he's saying true?" Lesane's voice boomed from the kitchen, which was to be expected since his voice naturally carried.
"Yeah. I wouldn't mind painting a couple things," I shrugged. "How much you gon' charge me? You know I'm down with supporting my people in both their economic and creative endeavors, but you also know that most of that shit is anything but cheap," he emerged from the kitchen with two glasses in his hands.
"I hadn't really thought about it. It depends on what I'll be painting. I guess," I ran my fingers through my hair as he sat close next to me. He nodded, placing his glass of liquor on the coffee table. He then handed me my glass of water that included a couple of ice cubes.
