(ELLAH)
After a couple days of getting to know Deion, I was slowly becoming heavily attracted to him. I'd get nervous very easily when he'd come around. My heart would start pumping rapidly out of nowhere. I'd break a sweat just thinking about him without any clothes on. I mean how can a guy with so much rage and humor can be so possessive and he's not even aware of it. Out of all the other relationships I've had, I've never felt like this about any man. My stomach turns to knots when I think of his name. I start getting stings down my spine thinking of the things he can do to me. He's unbelievably different and it's scary. I thought he was one of those sick, angry tatted up guys who likes to live life and think drinking alcohol is the answer to their problems.
Deion is not like that at all. He can fool anyone with that kind of bad boy appearance. He dresses like a bad boy. He gives off the energy like one but he's. . . not. He doesn't know he's doing it. When I first saw him he seemed like a douche bag. I don't mean the typical douche bag. I mean the one who thinks he knows all the struggles of life and draws them on his skin because he needs to be reminded of how dangerous in the mind he is.
He doesn't talk with an attitude, only if he's angry. He's very welcoming and open minded. I know art is his thing but this guy can create. I watched him one time creating beats off of his computer software. He creates video games. He even has a home built studio.
His apartment is more appealing then my house alone. Although my place looks decorative and professional like any other house, it's like he doesn't tell you much about himself. He lets his creativity do it for you. He'd rather let his actions prove to you how generous he is. I've never met a guy with so much tattoos with a shy personality.
BLESS HIM AND HIS GENES!
After a couple days when the storm began clearing out all I could think of was spending more time with Deion. I don't think he noticed the melting snow like I did. He hasn't looked out the window for the past couple of days.
I was sitting on his black leather couch. He was painting something on the wall. I couldn't quite figure out exactly what the detail looked like but he sure took his time to make sure whatever he was painting came out correctly.
I was occupying the magazine in my hands reading headlines and the most saddest stories about celebrities.
"Oh cry me a river Robin!" I said pointing at an article about Robin Thicke and his troubled marriage with his ex wife Paula ."He can buy me a nice box of Ferrero Rocher and Lindor Chocolate filled with Caramel with some underwear sets from Victoria's Secret! He'll have my heart before he knocks at my door begging for a second chance."
Deion's laugh escaped his lungs. I ignored it trying to stop him from distracting me. I looked at him from the corner of my eyes. He had already turned around while painting the wall.
He slowly stripped off his shirt. I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Fuck!" he rolled his shirt into a ball. "This was my favorite shirt too!" I got up automatically.
"What happened?" I asked. He unrolled the shirt when a huge stain of black paint spilled over it.
" How did you do that?"
"I was too busy laughing at you. As I was holding the bucket in my hand It accidentally tilted over and spilled all over me." He looked down at his Timberland's. "My boots are fucked up. My pants are fucked up." He clenched his jaw. The beauty of watching a mans jawline clench is my biggest weakness!
He headed towards the kitchen and cleaned himself up. He later came out holding a paper towel in his hand, a second away from throwing it out the trash.
He kicked his boots off his feet. He picked up one of them and began wiping the black paint off of it.
"Turn it into something creative," I took a tooth brush from the the rest of his supply stuff cluttered on the ground. "You like to draw so use your imagination," I pointed the toothbrush at him."The paint must have fell on your boots for a reason. Besides the kids are doing a lot of doodling on their footwear now a days."
"I wasn't planning on doing any damage to my Timbs, but since you convinced me that I could draw something unique then why not," He walked away from me taking a seat on the couch." I have to head out soon. Do you want me to take you home now?" He looked at me boldly in the eyes.
I placed one knee on the couch and leaned on it.
"I mean. . ." I ran my fingers through my hair. "I don't know. . I'd--" He cuts me off.
"I'm pretty sure everyone's worried about you now." He said while laughing. He was scrubbing black paint all over his suede sand colored Timberlands to give off the effect of abstracts. The metal doors opened nosily. Deion automatically got up and picked up an aluminum bat and walked quickly towards the sound.
"Stay put!" He commanded. His eyes looked shocked. They changed color. Before they were light and mesmerizing, now they turned evil and dark. They were so full of rage. He looked like he was ready to feed off my human flesh.
"HEY! DEION!" An old voice shouted. Deion saw someone he knew and automatically threw the bat near a old closet.
"JAMES IS THAT YOU?" Deion replied screaming back. They greeted each other with a hug.
"Long time no see kid." James rubbed his hair like a puppy. Deion carried him holding him around his neck.
"Aye!" He said looking at me. A country accent came out his mouth as he spoke to me. "Who's this pretty one? Oh fuck Deion. You're banging her?" He laughs uncontrollably. Deion waved his hand at James in defense and quickly corrected him.
"God no. She's was just here for a couple of days. No biggy."
"And you didn't fuck her yet?" He walked towards the kitchen. I didn't know whether to be upset or?
"James. Chill it's not like that."
"The girl has on a crop top." he pointed at my sports bra. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and gulped a huge sip aggressively.
James's blonde hair stuck out his hat. He wore an old Yankee's fitted cap that looked worn out since nineteen- eighty-five.
And his bomber jacket that looked torn apart since the seventies. He could be one of those old swamp people from the south of Texas. He looked like one very much.
"Actually it's a sports bra." I actually wore the same one I had under my black shirt but I washed it again.
"Oh." James said taking a seat near the couch.
Deion laid his head down halfway and rubbed the back of his neck aggressively.
"Look ah Ellah this is James. James this is Ellah." James nodded his head. He grabbed the remote on the coffee table and flipped through channels like the world was going to end.
He was distracted and smelled like he drunk all kinds of beers known to alcohol.
"So how about taking you home now." Deion suggested. He put on his leather sleeve jean jacket on.
"Umm. . .Yep! Just a second." I ran into his room and changed into the same clothes I came here with.
Within minutes of changing I ran back into the living room. James was no where to be found.
I didn't bother to ask for him but I was curious to know who the hell this guy was to Deion. They looked nothing alike.
As we walked out of his apartment, I stomped aggressively through the melting snow turning into slush. It wasn't very cold outside like the day of the storm.
The sun peeked through the thick clouds in the air. Outside looked like a mess. It's like mother nature was having a meltdown and we seemed to be her pain reliever.
After driving in Deion's car I didn't say a word.
I didn't say anything. I couldn't speak about a thing
"Look I'm sorry about James," he started to laugh a little "He's a lunatic. The guy is an alcoholic" I met eyes with Deion.
"You don't say!"
"But he's an amazing man though"
"Who is he too you?"
"My guardian," my brows furrowed " He looked after me while my parents-" he choked on his words. He couldn't finish his sentence.
"Whats happened to them?" I asked with sadness in my voice
"I lost them when I was really young. James was a family friend. After the death of my parents he looked after me when no one else agreed to adopt me. So he adopted me instead. I'm a grown ass man now and he won't leave me alone" a smile appeared on his face " He's like a step-dad to me. I don't know. I've called him James my whole life. He's James you know. No one I know loves me like a son like James" A tint of sunlight reflected in his grey eyes. His pupil began to close up. Each time he looked at me I'm looking into that one eye. That one eye that I couldn't stop looking at.
"I'm sorry about your parents Deion"
"It's cool. James actually taught me how to. . .draw" he licked his lips "He's one of those guys that inspire people but don't know they're inspiring unless you tell them" he laughed much more "I guess I pick up after him"
"Did he inspire you to get tattoos?" I asked. He began driving with one hand on the wheel this time.
"Sorta" he looked down at his trousers "In a way. But most of my tats are old photos my parents I had kept for a long time" I looked out the rear view of the window "I just wanted to be part of their past too I guess"
I just wanted to cry and hold on to him. His voice weep-ed a bit. As he was talking he was trying his hardest not to cry. He was trying not to remember his memories as he spoke about them to me. I felt like stopping the car so he can cry on my shoulders. I could already see myself holding on to him and rubbing his back.
"What are you doing for the New Year Ellah?" he changed the subject quickly
"Ah I don't know. Maybe hang with Ems. What are you doing for the New Year?"
"Get some more ink!"
"I knew that was coming"
"No actually I have no idea. I'll watch the ball drop on television and see what happens from there" I already felt bad.
"What about Elijah and Q?"
"Do I have to be with them all the time? Besides were cool, but it's like Drew is their father. They rely on your brother. Don't get me wrong, Drew is my bro but I'm not an ass kisser like them" I didn't seem surprised he would say that "Rather be alone"
The question that crossed my mind casted a spell over me. Would you like to spend the New Year with me instead Deion?