In my shoes (Completed)

Melanin dripping ruined weekend (11)

AN: reminder to please vote for the chapter

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Muamba's POV

The weekend wasn't as great as I wanted it to be. Thanks to Kapinga. She had managed to successfully ruin it without even being here. After my little moment, dad had been fed up with me. He started asking questions about the girl which was odd but also expected.

Anyways, the fact that Michael had bed this girl and was with me was also part of the reason why I didn't enjoy my weekend. I couldn't look at him and not think about her. And he was with me the whole time so, yeah shit. I was just glad that Michael never brought up my remark at breakfast. I didn't know how I was going to convince him this time. I mean my dad even questioned me and he thought I was jealous of Michael and wait for it... that I liked the girl. There was now two people who were close to me that thought I had liked this Kapinga girl. I did not like this girl. Right?

When I went to the party with Michael on Saturday night, it was different than our usual vibe. Normally the routine was that I get in and get something strong to drink. Honestly, nothing beats the burning taste of whiskey as it slithers down your throat, enflaming every cell in your esophagus.

Michael and I being well, handsome and all would usually have girls already at our beck and call as we entered. So, then we would take our picks from the ladies present. I would then by my chosen girl a drink and pretend to be interested in whatever it was that she was saying until it felt like we were in each other's presence long enough to copulate. I never bought the girls more than three drinks though. This is because I preferred having them well aware of the pleasure I brought them later in the night.

But on this weekend, when the girls came, I found myself comparing each woman to her. It was only when Michael mentioned that I had been declining every invitation for the past 1h that I realized that I was actually doing that. So, the next girl that came after his remark, I immediately whisked away. But I could not go through with the deed. The hurt look on Kapinga's face after my comment at breakfast was haunting me. I knew that I had finally pushed the limits.

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Aunt Davina who was literally my mother as well came to me just before I left on Sunday. She knew something was wrong but she did not ask what. She simply said something that had me re-thinking everything. She always says these random proverbs to me that always seems to be perfect for the situation I was currently in. Her words have always been helpful so far, so I listened. This time she came to me and said, "The worst battles fought are the ones between the brain and the heart. But remember that in those battles sometimes to win a fight you need to give up." Now the second part of her statement didn't make sense cause how does one win by losing, but I knew better than to question her. In the past all her advice always turned out to be true.

I sometimes think of Aunt Davina as my personal angel. She and Aunt Martha were the people I could talk to about most things. When my father found about my mother and I's trips outside the palace, he disconnected my mother from me. So my mother was still alive but she was distant. My father always punished me for trying to get close to her saying that it makes me weak. He believed that a man was never to get close to a woman. They were dangerous.

He never even really loved my mother. He married her out of duty and it was obvious. They could hardly stand being in the same room. They were after all so different. Anyways, so growing up, Aunt Davina was the one who taught me all the "fun things about life." While Aunt Martha would sneak me out to spend time with my mother, when my father was occupied. She even once took me to her house. It was the first time I had been outside of the palace gates since the day dad caught mom and I. Aunt Martha would clean my wounds when I was hurt and make me feel better. She was my mother, despite my actual mother still being alive. I hated my father for keeping me away from my mother.

Now she was gone.

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QOC: What do you love most about your mother? Does she know this fact?

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