Same Night...

"My mind been fuckin' with me heavy. One minute I'm cool and the next minute, I feel like I'm sitting in a sad song. " He admits, shaking his head.

He continued to shake his head and Bronnie decided that she was gonna be quiet and allowed him to speak freely. It is what Bronnie wanted, for him to speak freely.

"I can admit, Promise being brought up did kinda fucked me up a little bit but I would like to think that it didn't have so much weight on it. All I want for my daughter is to rest peacefully and not be used for any type gain," He began and Bronnie's heart dropped to her ass.

"Mosaic, again, I am so very sorry for—"

"I've already forgiven you, I'm just speakin' my mind. I'm just tired of feeling like I got weights on my chest every time I think about my mother. She died when I was 18, I should be in a much better spot than where I am mentally and I'm not. I feel like I'm getting worse. I think I know why but I don't want to fully put my mind there," He shakes his head again, feeling like he needs another jay.

"Let it out..." Bronnie slipped her hand into his again and this time, she locked her fingers into his so he won't slip out of it.

"I kinda felt like a father before I had Promise. After my moms died, my father remarried and kinda dumped the girls onto my grandmother. I eventually started helping out my grandmother with her bills and shit but the girls always looked to me, hence why we're so close. Anything concerning their welfare, school, or anything that was considered an emergency, they came to me. I don't know how to put it," He sighs, becoming frustrated. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and be wrong, or say how he feels and feels guilty about it.

"Just say it," She encouraged.

"No judgement, right?" He looked at her. He would've put his pinky up but their hands were intertwined.

"No judgement, promise," She vowed.

"I know we're all kinda close in age but they feel like my kids. When they're around, it feels like I'm taking care of my kids. And when it comes to my emotional grief or mental blocks, I have to push that shit to the side because if they're sad and grieving about Mommy, I can't be sad and grieving with them. I gotta be strong for them. I'm a man, I can't be caught lackin'." He lets out a breath, fighting the tears that he'd been wanting to cry all day.

Bronnie has a mental moment. "It makes sense. It makes sense as to why Theory called me last night. I believe she was scared that you were throwing up but Remedy was more scared at the fact that she caught you crying in the mirror. You kept your emotions hidden so well that when you did cry, they panicked. You were never able to be your emotional self with them because you had to take care of them first."

The moment Bronnie saw Moe wipe his nose, that's when she knew that it was about to be a downpour. Through his tears, he says, "My father called me when I touched back down in the city. He hasn't called me in years."

"What did he want?" Bronnie was aware that their relationship was strained. In one of his high moments, he admitted that it bothered him.

"He called to ask about Remy and Ry; asking for his daughters. Nigga they ain't your fuckin' daughters. They my daughters, fuck you talmbout," Tears slip out of his eyes as he uses his free hand to crack his own knuckles.

"Somehow or another, Mommy comes into the conversation and I started flickin' off on him. Talking bout how I need to let it go and get the hatred out my heart. He told me that on my mother's deathbed that she gave him the 'okay' to get remarried, and that's fine. I don't necessarily have an issue with that. My issue with him is that you remarried and left your kids hanging to fend for themselves. I needed my Daddy and he wasn't there for me,"

Right along with him, Bronnie began to shed some tears. Moe was pouring out his soul, and she was happy about that, but his pain was severely evident.

Moe's emotions were so high that he had to step out of the car and cry. Bronnie decided to give him a minute before she hopped out of the car. She stood on the opposite side of the car and listened to him cry from the pit of his soul.

It wasn't a soft subtle cry, the ones where you tried to stifle yourself and cry inwardly. His cry was the type of cry where it sounded like he was gasping for air; like all of his emotions were building up in his lungs and were trying to suffocate him.

Amidst of his cries, Bronnie decided to insert herself by stepping up to him and hugging him as warmly as she possibly could. Against her height, he dropped his head down and cried on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

This cry sounded familiar to Bronnie. After thinking for a bit, she was reminded of her father's funeral at the burial site, where her father was being lowered into the ground and Sabir was wailing behind her. The pain in his voice was as clear as the night sky. She vividly remembers that Sabir had to be consoled and carried away by 4 people.

Bronnie cried silently in his chest, all while rubbing his back. They stayed in this particular position for 3 minutes until the sound of Moe's cries lessened and lessened. All could be heard now was their sniffling. Eventually they pulled themselves together and grabbed their stuff from the car.

Bronnie had his key so she locked his car and they left the parking garage. They went inside of the complex and walked to their hallway. Their hands were still intertwined and they stopped in between their doors. They share a look.

Wordlessly, they were talking with their eyes, having a full blown conversation. Truth was, he knew that the girls were in there and he wasn't ready to depart from Bronnie's presence. Also in an admission of truth, Bronnie didn't want to depart from his presence either.

Walking towards Bronnie's door, Moe sends the girls a text letting him know where he'll be for the rest of the night.

Bronnie entered her apartment and it was dark. She knew that Nutmeg would be asleep by now so she didn't want to turn the lights on and flash her. She led him straight to his bedroom. She turned on the light and took her shoes off. He dropped his keys and phone off on the nightstand and carefully sat on her bed.

Inwardly, Bronnie was patting herself on the back for changing her seats after that whole Dreux fiasco. She got in the bed and she watched him take off his shoes and shirt, leaving him shirtless. Moe doesn't sleep nor get in the bed with clothes on but he wants to be respectful of Bronnie's personal space.

Her ceiling fan filled the quiet space between them as they both laid atop of her blanket. Neither of them were tired but Moe felt completely drained. Comfortably, they faced one another and Bronnie gently traced his forehead all the way to his jaw. Moe just watched her.

"I'an mean to do allat cryin' and shit. I'ma tighten up next time," He says lowly, and Bronnie shook her head.

"It needed to happen. You had to let it out. Never apologize for how you feel," She now traced his chin. She didn't know it but doing that put him at ease. Almost like she was casting a spell on him.

Moe wanted to say something but he doesn't. Instead he gets lost in her eyes, actually falling asleep first. He wasn't sleepy at first but the calmness that washed over him converted his alertness into slumber. He snuggled up closer to her, laying his head on her chest like earlier and wrapping one arm loosely around her hip.

She just rubs his head and get lost in her thoughts. After what he revealed to her tonight, she came to realize that Moe was able to patch up their hearts but wasn't able to patch his own, knowing his heart was bleeding the most. He couldn't be there for himself because he told himself that he didn't have time for it.

When someone bleeds profusely, you are told to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. If not, you might bleed out and eventually die. In Moe's case, no one applied pressure on him, to help him stop bleeding.

Instead, his heart continued to bleed while he applied pressure on everybody else. The one question that remains is: how is he still alive?

——

Bronnie was at work, and all she could think about was Moe. He was on her mind heavy. Last night kept replaying in her mind, and this morning. This morning he admitted that he has never felt this comfortable with anybody before. Although it made her feel good, it also raised a lot of questions.

Did he not have a complete support system in life? Does he not have people that he can lean on? Though he already gave her an answer, where was his family and why aren't they around? It seemed like the people who were in his life wasn't there when he needed them to be.

It was around lunch time and Bronnie was sitting in her room quietly. She was having a chicken pecan salad with extra light ranch dressing. It wasn't the best salad but she ate it. While she ate, she scrolled through Moe's Instagram, liking a few of his pictures. He was handsome as hell.

She wanted to text him and ask him what he was doing but she held off for a second. She didn't want to seem too press or on his dick. It was a genuine question though, especially since she didn't hear from him all morning. Maybe he needed a moment. Who knows.

A knock sounded on her door and that temporarily stopped her scrolling. Without lifting her head, she says, "Come in." She was in search of a napkin.

"Hi Bronze," From that greeting alone, it made her stop what she was doing. At the door was Dreux, who wore a hopeful smile on his face.

By the look of his face, she knew that this wasn't a casual visit so she decided to play dumb and tune in with her professionalism.

"I've already seen the students from your class, Mr. Davidson," She says, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"You don't have to be professional with me Bronze. It's just me, Dreux," He laughs nervously.

"Okay then. State your business," She cuts right to the chase.

"I want us to have a do-over. The right way," He admits, coming fully into her room and closing the door.

"Can't do that," She shoots it down and went back to chomping on her salad.

"It's because I'm white isn't it?" He says insecurely and it makes Bronnie roll her eyes.

"It's not because you're white. It's because I don't have an emotional connection with you, and to be honest Dreux, I don't want to form an emotional connection with you. You're a great guy but I'm emotionally fragile right now and my feelings are still bruised from my last relationship, which ended very recently. I'm sorry, Dreux," Bronnie relayed.

Dreux nodded his head in understanding, appreciating her honesty.

"Thank you for being honest. Take care, Ms. Scott," He says respectfully, leaving her cohort.

Bronnie inhaled a sharp breath and nods. That went better than expected. She thought that she would have to explain a whole dissertation as to why things wouldn't work out. She's glad that it didn't have to come to that.

She went back to eating her salad before her phone dings and she smiled, seeing who it was. Moe had texted her, asking her what she was doing

Munch💓:Eating a salad. Wyd?

Yoda👽: Bout to leave for the gym.

Munch💓:Still working on your bird chest lol

Yoda👽: Gains. Don't play wit me lil girl

Seeing that photo made Bronnie fan herself. He was definitely gaining, and he was most certainly fine. She decided to call him.

When he answered, she said, "You gain a lil piece of chest and you forgot what a shirt is," She jested, making him laugh.

"Hell yeah my ass forgot. You see the progress," He cheesed into the camera.

Bronnie was in the last 15 minutes of her lunch break before she had to complete some paper work. She'll be happy when the school year is over. They were currently talking about tattoos and piercings and Moe just revealed something to her that blew her mind.

"You had what?!" She exclaimed in a whisper.

"You heard me right. I used to have a tongue ring," He says, putting on a shirt and making sure that he had everything in his gym bag. "I had a lot of piercings actually but the academy made me take 'em out. Eventually they all closed up," He shrugged.

"Just how many piercings did you have?" Bronnie grew curious.

"I had my nose pierced, my ear pierced—the conch specifically, one of my nipples pierced, and my tongue pierced," He remembered.

Bronnie hummed. "I know getting your tongue pierced isn't a girl thing but what made you get your tongue pierced?"

"For her pleasure," He answered smoothly and Bronnie was trying to wipe the smirk off of her face.

Bronnie had more questions and Moe had no problem answering. He can see that she was extremely curious. He didn't mind.

"I always felt like my nose was fat as shit so I wanted to decorate dat muthafucka'. I always thought the conch was cool so I wanted to get it," He shrugged, and she nods.

"And what about your nipple piercing?" She chewed.

"For my pleasure, love," He smirked. On the inside, Bronnie was screaming.

It gets quiet between them until Bronnie says, "I always wanted a piercing, but I be chickening out because of the pain," She chuckled.

"This weekend we gettin' a piercing. Instead of getting my conch re-pierced, I think I wanna get the industrial bar,"

"Bluey used to have one. She said that it takes longer to heal," She remembered.

"That shit looks sweet as fuck. Friday we gettin' pierced, alright?" He spoke enthusiastically. Bronnie was all for it but she was nervous. She was worried about the pain level.

She was tender headed, suffers during her menstrual cycle, and has a very low tolerance to pain. A piercing? She'll pray on it.

She realized that her last 15 minutes were up and she had to get back to work. She told him that she'll see him later and they hung up the phone. She threw away her trash and walked out of her resource room and into the hallway so she can use the bathroom.

When she stepped out of the hallway, she seen Dreux standing at his classroom door talking to Ms. Cushing, the science teacher. She was tall, slender, and black. A complete perm rod set and all. Bronnie gagged a little bit when he seen his white ass hands in her hair. The vomit almost came up when he pulled on one of the curls.

You never touch a Queen's crown.

"I dodged a bullet," She mumbled to herself, stepping into the bathroom.

Truth was, Dreux was so damn curious about everything. About their culture, about past reparations, and even about the word 'nigga'. Vividly, he asked her how she feels about it when another black person called her that. Then he asked her why does she get defensive and angry when a white person says it.

In the very short time that her and Dreux has spent together, she felt like an experiment to him. He was so intrigued by her but beyond that, Bronnie felt like he looked at her like an exotic animal. Like he actually found a black woman attractive, and was fucking shocked about it.

"God bless, chile," She handled her business and got back to her room.

She sat down and finished up the rest of her paperwork.

——

Throughout the rest of the week, they've spent most of their time with one another and neither of them minded at all. The more they hung out, the more that they learned about one another. They were growing close.

"Noonie lookin' at her like she's the unsub," Moe joked, holding onto Nutmeg's leash. They were currently at the dog park since Bronnie haven't been in a couple of weeks and Nutmeg was acting brand new. She didn't want to play with nobody.

What was also new was Moe giving Nutmeg a nickname, affectionately calling her Noonie. Over the course of the week, he's been spending most of time at Bronnie's apartment. His sisters didn't mind, and while growing his bond with Bronnie, he also grew a little attached to Nutmeg. Nutmeg got attached to him also. In his own growing bond with her, he decided to give her a nickname.

Did she answer to it? Hell naw. But that's what made it so much funnier to Bronnie because she know that Nutmeg ain't gonna respond. She took a strong liking to Moe nonetheless, and that surprised her. Nutmeg never liked Tomas. She always barked at him and would never let him pet her.

"You watch one episode of Criminal Minds and think everybody is the unsub," Bronnie laughed, licking on her ice cream that he bought her from a stand.

"Ion know. With the way that you been acting lately, its lookin' like you the unsub," He jested, making Bronnie laugh while nudging him.

"Nutmeg Patrice Scott, go play. I ain't got all day girl," She grabbed the leash from Moe and walked her further into the grass. Nutmeg literally sank her nails into the soil to stop any further movement.

"Hollon—Patrice? Her middle name is Patrice?" Moe was having a laughing fit because he couldn't believe Bronnie's young ass named her that.

"Patrice Smith was the name of the old lady that I rescued her from. Ms. Patrice died, and that was almost 3 years ago. In homage, I put Patrice as her middle name." She explained and Moe understood. He thought the sentiment was sweet.

"So Nutmeg's almost 3 years old?" He inquired.

"Yep," She pets Nutmeg's head, who was still stationed beside Moe.

"When's her birthday?" He leaned down to pet Nutmeg as well and she stood up on her hind legs and attempted to climb him like a tree.

"December 4th," Bronnie tried to give her a treat to wheel her into to play and she just ate the treat and sat down. It was like she was nervous to go. "NuNu what's the matter?" She spoke in baby talk.

"You ever thought about mating her with someone?" He grabbed her paws, making her stand up tall.

"Fuck no. Y'all ain't bout to egg my girl up. I know that people do it for profit or to actually get a dog but I think people forget that they're dogs and not a piece of profitable machinery. Enjoy your pets," She says.

"I feel you on that," He agrees.

"Like just the other day when I was walking her, a man mistaken her for a boy and asked me if she was of mating age. And if she was, then what?" Bronnie rolled her neck hard as hell.

"I can see that you're very passionate about this," He chuckled, now seeing her squat before Nutmeg to examine her. She thinks something is wrong with her.

"Certain dogs like Rottweilers, French Bulldogs, English Bulldogs, Pitbulls, and even Husky's are very profitable because of how cute they are. My issue is that they only mate their dogs for the money and I feel like they're just doing it for the wrong reasons. They see miss mamas as a cash cow, and the crazy part is that after miss mamas have all those babies and done had so many litters, they neglect her. And guess what? She ends up dying!" She rolled her eyes.

"They not eggin' my baby up. I