Didn’t fucking matter how irrelevant the detail was, he wanted all of them to lock away for safe keeping. He wanted her and wanting a woman for anything other than pussy broke the promise he’d made to himself years ago.
The fuck am I doing…
Falling, Sao…you’re muthafuckin' fallin'.
Asao removed his phone and pulled up Vid Share and moved to the only channel he had saved on his private account. Fifty-six videos filled the page, each ranging anywhere from three to four minutes long. He had already watched every single one, which meant a little under four hours of his time had been devoted to an obsession that shouldn’t fucking exist. He moved straight to his favorite and tapped the screen to let it play.
Falling hard, falling fast
Descending to you, devastating crash
The touch, the feel
Lets me know it’s real
Never enough, but never too much.
The air in my lungs, the rhythm of my heart
Should have never let you in, should have known from the start
I’m yours to love, yours to love, yours to love
When it ended, he moved to the comments and added one.
You write this shit about him?
Asao locked his phone and was about to return it to his pocket but a call came through. The minute her voice flowed through the line, the restlessness he’d felt moments prior no longer existed.
“That video is three years old.”
“The hell that got to do with you answering my question?” he said smoothly with a seriousness that shouldn’t have existed.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with me answering the question but it does speak to what level of stalker shit you’re currently on.” The smile in her voice brought one to his face.
“Stalking is unwanted attention. You want to be my focus, so what I’m doing doesn’t qualify. Now answer the question.”
“No, I didn’t write it about him,” Samari responded truthfully without needing clarity on the him Asao had referenced in his comment on her video.
“Then who?”
“Nobody and everybody who’s ever loved someone right.”
He frowned, narrowing his eyes toward the ocean, noticing the shades of black and gray in the sky that looked like they touched the water when he knew they were miles apart. All that shit was an illusion like the life he was living. The darkness existed but he pretended it didn’t.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“That song is about love. Not my love from or for anyone, just the feeling in general, which means it could be inspired by anyone, even your stalker ass.”
For the briefest moment. Na’Mya was in his head, clawing at the part of him that held tight to the memories of the only woman he’d ever let have him. He refused to disrupt the moment by fucking up his mood.
A smile eased onto Asao’s face. “Self-love is some deep shit but I don’t think it would inspire the type of layers you were spitting.”
“Self-love?”
“Yeah, baby, I don’t love these hoes.”
When Samari busted out laughing, he chuckled lightly along with her before he had her voice again. “So I’m assuming you’re confessing to only loving yourself?”
