History is the events from the past. Your history is your roots. Never try to push it away, just embrace it. Whether good or bad. - My history teacher, Mrs Boyd.
Wes
I got up with a yawn. For a second I didn't remember where I was until I saw her clinging to my shirt.
Lyla was such a beautiful woman. Everything about her was beautiful.
Her brown hair that brushed against her back, her big sky blue eyes, her small straight nose that had a beauty mark on it, right in the center, her long lashes, her small pouty pink lips, her beautiful light brown skin.
Everything.
I smiled as she shifted on me in a more comfortable position.
We were sprawled out on her big couch. Apparently, we fell asleep while watching the movie. I gently pry my self loose from her iron grip.
When I finally got out, I tip toed to the kitchen and did a long stretch.
I ran my hands through my curly black hair and looked around.
Her house was nice. The kitchen was spacious and filled with appliances. The living room was white with a flat screen tv, surround sound systems, couch, bean bag, a table, chairs and such.
The bathroom was sky blue with the normal bathroom things.
I could stay there forever though.
I shook the thought from my head. I couldn't do that. She was going through a lot and she didn't need me complicating things even more.
I was only here because she asked. Nothing more. And I'm ok with that.
I am fine with that.
I ran my hands over my face in frustration and went back to the bathroom.
I didn't see a spare toothbrush so I just put some toothpaste on my tongue with a little water and gargle it a bit. Hopefully that was enough until I got home.
I went back to the kitchen and see that there was nothing there to cook. How was she surviving?
She looked so sad last night, barely saying a word. The breakup had really taken a toll on her.
I went to the phone and dialed the number for a popular breakfast place and made an order.
How the fuck can a man just up and leave his woman of 12 fucking years? That was like a marriage type relationship right there.
I wanted to punch the guy.
I can't believe I spent the night at a strangers house. Even though she doesn't feel like stranger. It's like I've known her my whole life. It was definitely odd and I can't explain this feeling but it's ok.
I was able to help someone in need last night and I was really happy about that. It made me feel good that instead of calling her friends over, she asked me.
It means, there's a possibility that she trusts me.
I sighed and went outside to wait for the breakfast. I didn't want the doorbell to wake Lyla up.
I scrolled through my phone quickly, looking for any important messages. I saw that my Mom wanted to know where I was. I quickly told her and turned off my phone
Ten minutes later, I see a man coming up to me. "Hi, are you Wes?" He greeted with a smile. I nodded and took the packages and paid him.
I went inside and set the food out on the table. I set out the pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon. And poured out the orange juice in glasses.
I was about to wake Lyla up when I heard her soft yawn.
"Wow." I heard a soft voice whisper behind me.
I spun around and saw Lyla in all her morning glory.
Her hair was fuzzy and sticking out everywhere, the big T-shirt she had on was showing a lot of leg. She looked so beautiful for someone who had just woken up.
"Did you make this?" She asked grinning.
I laughed, "No. There's not even a grain of rice in your kitchen. It's take out." I told her, pushing her plate towards her.
She smiled and made her way over to me, taking a seat next to me. She looked at me.
I looked at her. We just looked at each other in complete slience, until I remembered the food.
I hope it wasn't cold. I gestured to the food, "Eat." She smiled and took a bite of the pancake.
"Oh gosh, this is so good. I haven't had real food in days." She groaned, stuffing her mouth.
I laughed at her, she looked like a starving monster.
"Good morning, Lyla." I told her, suddenly.
She gave me a huge grin, "Good morning, Wes. And thank you."
I looked away, she was just so beautiful. It was hard not to stare.
"This is too good, Wes. You need to give me the name of this place." she moaned with a full mouth.
I grinned like a love sick school boy. "She's my favourite. The takeout bags are over there, you can look at the name later." I replied taking a bite of the eggs.
In no time she was finished. She was such a tiny woman but she sure ate alot.
She looked up at me and grinned, "Thank you so much, Wes. I really do appreciate this." She placed her small hand on mines and the deep look in her eyes nearly brought me to my knees.
Damn. This woman was wonderful.
"I'm glad I could help. I like seeing you this way. Smiling so much." I told her softly. I didn't want to over step my boundaries.
She blushed and looked away. "Me too."
I ate the last piece of pancake. "I want to know more about you, Lyla."
She looked at me curiously. "Why?" She raised a brow.
"Do you have to question everything? I just want to know." I laughed.
She smiled, "Sorry. I just...I'm just suspicious."
I nodded, "I understand."
"What do you want to know?" She took a sip of her orange juice.
I shrugged, "Why are you so guarded?"
Her head snapped up at me. "It's a hard life. You have to be guarded." She answered, shrugging.
I shook my head, "Come on, Lyla. There's more than that. You can tell me."
She looked at me and sighed. "Ok."
I drank the last of my orange juice and listened intently.
"My mom had me in a barn in the country. My parents were poor and couldn't afford a hospital birth. When I first saw the world it was on a bed of grass and the sun was blinding and I could hardly breathe."
"They told me that my dad didn't want me so he grabbed me from my mothers weak arms and threw me head first in a pile of hay. His sister had came right in time to save me or else I could have died." She paused and looked at her hands.
"From then, my life has been hell after hell. I never went to pre school or even secondary school. My parents were too poor and too drunk to even care."
"Dad was always intoxicated and abusive. He would beat mom all the time for the smallest of things. And mom was always high on some new drug she created so she hardly felt anything. It was really dumb if I'm being honest."
"They were too caught up in their own shit to even remember about me. So I grew up without my parents. The streets. They raised me up till now. "
She pushed away the empty glass and sighed, "My child hood was never nice. They always teased me for being........different. I mean look at me. I'm a black man and white woman's daughter. In their eyes it couldn't be more wrong."
"I guess from then I never really forgave them for just regletting me like that. I never felt beautiful. I always hate my brown skin and blue eyes that never go together. It doesn't make sense."
She stopped suddenly, tears rolled on her cheeks and she placed her face into her hands.
I held her face and pulled her close. She completely broke down on me.
"Look," I pulled up her chin and I stared into her ocean like eyes, "Fuck what they said. You are the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my entire life and you need to start believing that." I told her sternly.
I meant every word I said. The fact she was different made her all the more special.
Tears continued to stream down her face and she just stared at me.
"What?" I asked confused.
"I don't feel beautiful." She whispered sadly. She looked away, clearly hiding away from me.
I frowned at that. "Maybe I should change that then, Lyla."
I stood up suddenly and looked at her. Without a word, I snaked an arm around her shoulders then her legs and picked her up, bridal style.
"What are you doing, Wes?" she asked, a little confused. She held on to me as if she was about to fall. She didn't like being carried I guess.
I smiled and looked down at her beautiful, tear stained face, "I'm going to make you feel beautiful." I clearly stated.
I headed straight for her bedroom.
Chubbyalejandra 💖