Fortheloveoffisherman - 🦋 MDF | Dark Romance Since 2005🦋

I don't need butterflies in my stomach. I need someone who calms down my nervous system. someone who makes me feel safe.

Stupid memories that make me bawl because I love it so much.

I took a sip of my coffee this morning.

And I stepped downstairs to grab my lighter and I broke down sobbing with my hand on the drawer knob. Lemme tell you why.

I remember it. So vividly I'm typing this with shaking fingers and gonna have to remind myself to print it out and frame it with Andrew's memories of this one because it's up there. So much I had to put it in narrative form.

I'm already shaking. I just sped over from my girlfriend's house. She lives down the block and she was the one that suggested the coffee. I have no idea what the fuck the coffee is about to taste like. All I know is I'm on the phone and you're in my ear. I'm looking over my shoulder at my uncle.

"Fuck I can't believe I'm about to introduce you to my fucking uncle." The words are racing out of me and my heart is hammering.

"I could turn around." I'm at the corner and I'm giggling at you, body turned the other way, rings glinting in the sunlight as you hold your Android phone to your ear.

"Turn around, asshole." I'm smiling when you whirl around and I race into your arms, inhaling the smell of Camel Menthol and body wash. Your hair is even still damp on the side. "You just jump out the shower." "Fuck you, so who am I about to meet again?" "My Dad's brother. No one meets him." I briskly grabbed your shoulder and dragged you up to meet my uncle who is standing an exaggerated fifty five yards in the distance.

"Coffee?" I call to my aunt who is quick to leap up and we all head into the restaurant. I'm now shaking like a leaf because my uncle won't stop glaring at you. The classic overbooked niece. But my aunt is smiling like I've just introduced her to a celebrity and suddenly, everything your brother ever says about women and you makes sense.

I reach to grab your arm, to mention that it's okay if you're uncomfortable and want to leave.

"Pook." You quipped, not even looking back as you pulled your arm and me, closer. "Can I get a d-double mocha with five- no wait-" You snap your finger and I'm trapped. "Seven pumps up mocha."

I'm spell bound. Your fingers wrap around mine and you warmly look down at me. "You still drink it like that right? Or am I dumbass?" I'm stuck staring at you in starstruck mode and I hate myself.

"Anything else?"

"Oh uh..."

The door slams and my Uncle has left the coffee shop. I pull away from you to glance questionably at my aunt.

"You know how your uncle is." She laughed. "I'll be back. I'll check on him. Stay." She practically winked with her tone of voice. I looked back at you, and your eyebrow lifted in that way that snaps me out of my daze.

"Everything okay, short one?" That stupid signature grin that I'm always proud to go, Fucking Alex.

"Yeah I'm gonna go check on my Uncle." I nearly trip over my feet rushing to get out of there. The wind hit me and whispered in that moment.

Jesus Christ. He remembers how you like your coffee. (1/)

Hair and shit.

It's weird, nicknames.

"Pookie." "Poodlehead." "Jammy" "love monster."

I'm sitting up at 4am with nags champa burning when suddenly, I feel it. That tickle on my hair. I giggled multiple times before I realized, now this is real.

Then suddenly, I reached in and the most untame sinful groan escaped my lips.

I'm stuck on that night when I checked the phone it was 1:25 am and I blinked and suddenly you were talking about how you don't trust women with your hair, especially black women. Do you know how many micro aggressions I'd experienced with Andrew? I said oh this is some scorpio shit. And then you said. "You, Pook. Yes, trust it with my life, but them bitches??"

and I understood it. The way you'd lean over and let me touch your hair when you were in a bad mood. The time you asked if I knew how to braid and I flat out told you no. The nightmares I'd have of someone tugging your ponytail for attention.

So I spent some time caressing the mop this morning for you. And for Andrew who constantly called me poodle head. It was never annoying because he'd always say it with his fingers deep in my scalp while I was melting to sleep. "Love ya poodle head."

I fucking miss that.