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shurisnovia · 13 days

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no woman, no cry (chapter three)

warnings. false awakening/reoccurring dream. fluff. introduction to more oc’s. mention and description of mental breakdown. ex-girlfriend and sisters. that kind of soul connected love. two-sided personality. slight neglect. hinting towards flirting. jealous!tish. possessive!tish. angst. tense arguing. a realization and apologies

tags. @shurislover @s0lam33y @desswright29 @pocketsizedpanther @naftalyspaces @oceean @tishlvr @bbbbbbrilliantly @shurisnovia @kisskourt @blkgworlamplified @prettymrswright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @jordisblogg

notes. this chapter contains… a lot, we’re hitting ALL the emotions. i’ve been ready to write this chapter for weeks as that scene was replaying in my head over and over and now it’s finally here. i hope you all love it ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Milan sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft amber hue over the bustling Malpensa Airport, the first time she’s felt the sun since leaving Jamaica. Genesis stands in the economy boarding line, her dreadlocks tied into a loose bun, tucked under a knit beanie. Her eyes, a reflective pool of thought, wander across the vast terminal, watching the world around her.

Once the line moves enough, she hands over the needed documents, a subtle sigh escaping her lips as she does, fingers brushing against a leather-bound journal in her bag, a collage of sketches and musings that mirror her soul.

Boarding the aircraft, Genesis nestles into her seat, the window to her left granting her a panoramic view of the bright tarmac lights. The seat beside her remains vacant, a small luxury in the cramped quarters of economy, and ahead of her is the curtain that divides the classes. She imagines Letitia, her relaxed posture in the cocoon of first-class comforts.

Genesis blacks out most of takeoff, having done it many times before, and though she doesn’t sleep well normally, there’s times where her body’s just so tired that she doesn’t even realize she falls into it.

And this time, when her eyes droop closed, an image floods her sight. It’s a field, a vast expanse of green that seems to stretch infinitely. And there’s a small child, maybe no older than nine. It’s her, a child with braids, her clothes a couple sizes too large on her skinny frame, billowing around her as she runs. But it isn’t joyous, there’s no laughter, only fear clear on her face, set by the sudden harsh crackle of incoming flames.

She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t scream for help, only her ragged breathes are heard as she runs towards her view of the scene, an intuitive understanding that to turn would be to acknowledge the fear gnawing at her heels. And she’s never been one for that.

She hears the gallop of hooves suddenly, a man on the horse a persistent shadow in her periphery. His presence is ominous as he rides after her, yet there’s something strangely familiar, like a forgotten verse of a once-loved song.

And then she hears the hum.

The tune’s a constant, melodic notes, deep and experienced, echoing a timelessness that feels both foreign and familiar, seemingly etched into her very soul. Yet its origin remains a mystery, obscured like a half-remembered lullaby.

The dream dissolves as the Captain’s voice announces their descent into Heathrow, and Genesis stirs, her eyes opening to the sterile light of the cabin, causing her eyebrows to furrow.

Still in a sleepy haze, she stows her journal, making an internal commitment to try and decipher the dream’s meaning later, wether be in sketch or writing, and she checks the seat pocket and the floor before zipping up her carry-on, knowing she has everything, now ready for landing, ready for the return back to urban life in its entirety. And the humming retreats into the recesses of her mind, where it will wait, patient and steadfast, for the night’s sleep, or a moment of meditation, or even revelation, when she’ll finally be able to recognize it for what it is.

Once she’s able to get off the plane, she steps into limited space of the tunnel, and she’s not sure she’s excited or even relieved of the arrival. But then she sees her, Letitia, standing in the slightly more open space next to some workers, a soft smile turning her lips up slightly. Her presence is a balm to the fatigue and anxiety that clings to Genesis like a second skin.

“Hey,” Letitia says quietly, reaching out to intertwine their fingers, her palm providing gentle warmth against Genesis’ almost chronically cold skin.

“Hey,” Genesis mirrors her, voice a little raspy, tinged with the remnants of sleep.

Together, they navigate the throngs of passengers, moving in silent harmony towards the assigned baggage claim, the carousel churning out suitcases in a rhythmic clunk. And Genesis watches as Letitia grabs hers with easy grace, seemingly a contrast to the tension she feels in her own limbs, happy she only traveled with her crossbody bag.

Suddenly, a whistle, sharp and clear, cuts through the murmurs around them and Genesis’ head turns instinctively towards the sound, her heart recognizing it before her mind even can, her eyes instantly falling on the form that made it.

Julian, a head above the crowd, his dreadlocks a cascade over his shoulders, his smile seeming to reach his eyes, igniting a furry of emotions within Genesis, a mixture of joy, nostalgia, and an unspoken trepidation.

“Gen!” He calls out her name and the sound brings with it a flood of memories. Sun-drenched afternoons and the smell of rain hitting the earth.

“Julian…” She breathes out, her voice quiet, yet there’s the smallest smile forming on her lips.

His arms wrap around her easily, his six foot frame towering over Genesis’ five-four one, an invitation back to the days of their youth where a hug would fix all the scrapes on knees and hearts alike. The familiarity of the embrace envelopes Genesis like a blanket, the kind of hug that doesn’t shy away from the past.

“God, I’ve missed you.” Julian murmurs, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through their joined bodies, and Genesis breathes in the scent that’s unmistakably Julian, the faint trace of sandalwood and the crispness of open air that always seems to cling to him.

They pull away slowly, reluctance threaded in Julian’s movements, his hands lingering on her shoulders for a moment longer, eyes searching her green ones, for the friend he knew, the one that climbed trees to their highest branch and dreamt as big as the sky.

“Yuh alright?”

“I think so…” Genesis nods, voice steady, and Julian can’t help but chuckle, pulling back fully now. And in that moment, she feels Letitia’s hand take hers again, a gentle squeeze felt, and Julian notices the subtle entwining, looking between them before his eyes fall on their hands.

“Letitia, yeah?” He questions, looking at her with a slightly narrowed expression. Letitia nods, extending a hand to his, feeling his tight grip as he shakes. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” Letitia replies, voice steady.

With the luggage secured and the hustle of the airport now behind them after walking out, Genesis and Letitia stand on the curb, the cool London air wrapping around them. Julian, having gone to retrieve the car, pulls up on their place by the sidewalk, his presence a reminder of the incoming departure.

“I always dreaded this part.” Genesis looks at Letitia, eyes softening as she remembers back to the moments of goodbyes between them, after months together for filming and press.

“Only for the night. Tomorrow we can grab coffee or tea at that little place you love. What is it… Exmouth Coffee?”

“You remembered?” Genesis cant stop the smile from appearing on her lips. She maybe only mentioned that fact once, at least five years ago now.

“Of course,” Letitia says, a playful rebuke in her tone. “I remember everything when it comes to you.”

And they move closer, a hug enveloping them with a deep warmth, one that fills Genesis’ heart, and Letitia’s whisper fills her ear.

“Nine tomorrow? Meet you there?”

Genesis nods as they pull away, but not too far, pressing a soft peck against Letitia’s lips before they finally step apart fully, Letitia opening the passenger side door for her before closing it again, leaning down to look at Julian through the window.

“Take care of her, yeah?”

“Always.” Julian nods with reassurance from the driver’s seat, and she straightens, about to step back, when she hears his voice again. “Oh, and Letitia?”

Her eyes meet his in curious question.

“Thank you for bringing her home.”

A warmth fills Letitia’s heart, nodding, sharing one last glance with Genesis, the finality of the moment hanging heavy in the air before she finally steps back onto the curb, watching as Julian pulls away, soon disappearing around the corner.

The ride to Tottenham is shrouded in the kind of silence that allows the soul to speak. She sits there, her gaze fixed on the world racing by the window as the city transitions from the polished streets of London to the more rugged, lived-in spaces of Tottenham. She always thought of Tottenham as London’s Trench Town, in ways, those who grew up normally try and get out.

Letitia did… but Genesis isn’t there yet.

Yet, Chronixx’s soulful voice plays through the speakers, the lyrics of his version of “Smile Jamaica”, a balm to the scenes she sees. The soft hum of the music is a reminder of Jamaica, of the days spent looking for peace within herself.

As Julian’s car turns onto their street, the familiarity of the terraced apartments, each baring scars and stories of so many generations, cause Genesis’ heartbeat to pick up, just slightly. Soon, Julian parks and the engine’s cessation marks their arrival, but they just sit for a moment, neither of them making a move to leave, letting the silence between them stretch comfortably.

“Yuh sure you okay?” Julian questions quietly, finally, his voice soft, yet carrying in the small space of the car.

“Yeah.” Genesis’ reply is simple, only a short pause from the question, turning her head to offer a sheepish, closed-lipped, smile.

She then steps out of the car first, the night air flowing against her and Julian follows, leading her up to the door before unlocking it with his key and letting her in.

Ziggy was there to greet them as they enter, his presence almost a larger-than-life force in the modest entry-way. His dreadlocks are tucked into a natural toned beanie, almost framing his head, and his eyes light up when he sees Genesis.

“Gen,” He smiles gently, his arms already open for a hug.

“Zig…” Genesis replies, mustering a small smile as she walks into his embrace, his hug enveloping her easily.

They stay like that for a moment, no words said, just remaining the same, but eventually Ziggy pulls back and he steps out the way for Genesis to get to the stairs, watching as she walks past and she hears his voice say something about going out tonight, though she’s not sure if it’s directed towards her or Julian, or both, but she just keeps walking up.

Her room sits at the sharp turn right from the stairs, finding her door creaked open, and she pushes on it to reveal the chaos that awaits her. She takes in a sharp breath as she steps in, standing in the middle of the mess as she looks around, rubbing the back of her neck in annoyance with herself as she remembers the events coming back to her mind.

She was mad, pissed. She remembers turning to go walk out the room before her anger just took over, slamming her hands into the closet on her right before slamming her shoulder into it and turning to walk back into the middle of the room.

She remembers pulling down the curtains and blinds, the ones that still aren’t there, and she remembers grabbing the broom, because she was using it earlier that day to actually clean, and she just started hitting it into the window, intent on breaking it. When it wasn’t working she swung it like a bat and broke off the tail-end, but she kept going until she did manage to break the window, leaving broken glass all over her carpet.

She threw so much stuff after that, leaving it haphazardly on the floor before turning and kicking at the wall because she was still so uncontrollably mad. She had raised her leg like during knee-ups and just shoved her foot down, stumbling back slightly after the impact, but that didn’t stop her, not even when she paced a little, she continued to kick the same place repeatedly until there was a shoe sized hole there.

And that’s when she dropped to the floor, knees to her chest as she sat against her bed, arms leaning on her knees as her head dropped into her hands, and she broke down into tears, sobbing.

“We repaired the window and the wall.”

Genesis jumps, her heart skipping a beat literally as she’s harshly pulled from her memories, whirling around to find Ragga in the doorway, his presence as grounding as earth itself. He’s always had a way of moving silently, a gentle giant with eyes that seem to see through everyone’s soul.

“Me and Junior…” He continues as Genesis’ hand goes to her heart, taking in a deep breath that almost hurts, and she can’t help but chuckle slightly, turning and looking towards both objects, finding them surely fixed.

“Thank you…” She says after a moment, her voice quiet, carrying the vulnerability she normally doesn’t show out to the world.

“We’re family, Gen. We look out for each other, yeah?”

Genesis gives him a nod of understanding, watching as Ragga leaves, heading towards the stairs and Genesis turns back to the mess, glancing around the space once more, taking in all of her past before starting to clean up.

It’s not until close to midnight that things are back in place, organized, or thrown away. And exhausted from the journey and the emotional toll of the day, Genesis lets herself fall backwards onto her bed. The ceiling above is a blank canvas, stark and unyielding in its simplicity, so different from the complex tapestry of her mind. For a moment, she just lays there, breathing deeply with her eyes closed, grounding, feeling the rise and fall of her chest and listening to the hush of her room.

But soon she opens her eyes, turning her head to the right, her gaze settles on a picture that’s frame is propped up against the soft glow of her crystal lamp. The photograph— black and white, its edges worn from touch before she was able to frame it— is of a man with a joyous smile, dreads tucked under a knit beanie that lays very loosely on his head. His eyes are crinkled with genuine delight as he holds a baby close to his chest. The infant, secured in the safety of her father’s embrace, is oblivious to the depth of the moment now captured forever in time.

And Genesis whispers, a greeting that carries weight of years passed and words unspoken.

“Hi, Baba.”

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It’s grey and windy in London, as Genesis makes her way to Exmouth Coffee. The city’s waking, the air filled with the familiar cacophony of distant traffic and the talkings from early risers. The smell of coffee from the coffee shops that seem to litter every corner fill her nose, mingling with the city’s exhaust, an urban scene that Genesis has come to associate as home.

As she nears her destination, her pace slows just a little, allowing her to take in the sights and sounds of the city more. It’s so different to her now, how she sees it.

Her eyes also catch sight of Letitia waiting ahead, her silhouette unmistakable against the classical facade of the cafe. Dressed casual, she seems absorbed in her phone, a thumb moving swiftly across her screen, but the soft sound of Genesis’ footsteps on the pavement reach her ears and she looks up, her expression softening, eyes lighting up with a gentle smile.

“Morning.” Letitia murmurs as Genesis gets close, their greeting culminating in a small, affectionate, peck of lips that feel like the final piece of Genesis’ morning clicking into place.

“Morning.” Genesis repeats, her voice low but infused with warmth.

They head inside, the air thick with the aroma of roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries. They both order hot chocolate, rich and decadent, a comforting switch from the usual morning caffeine, though Genesis has never been a coffee person at all.

Sitting at a small, intimate, table, their hot chocolates steam before them as Genesis recounts the previous evening, the homecoming. Letitia listens intently, her hand over Genesis’, offering silent comfort with a gentle rub of her thumb against Genesis’ wrist.

“…I don’t know, it just felt… different.” Genesis continues, her gaze flickering to their intertwined hands.

“A lot’s changed,” Letitia nods slightly, offering the smallest closed-lipped smile.

Genesis nods, a silent agreement, eyes moving to her untouched hot chocolate, a little steam still coming off of it, by surely drinkable by now. Yet, she doesn’t take a sip. And after a moment, Letitia’s grip on Genesis’ hand tightens slightly.

“There’s something I need to ask you.” Letitia begins tentatively, breaking the silence.

Genesis meets Letitia’s gaze, her brows furrowing slightly in curiosity.

“Would you want to come to Portugal with me?”

Genesis’ eyebrows furrow even more at her question, at the randomness of it. She doesn’t understand why she would have to be there, but before she can question it, Letitia continues.

“It’s only for a couple days with a few friends.” Letitia’s voice is hesitant, a touch quieter now. “And… Fidji’s going to be-“

“Your ex?” Genesis cuts her off in question.

“Yes, but-“

“I and I…” Genesis mutters, hanging her head slightly in annoyance, causing Letitia to lean closer.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s not like that, I promise. This trip was planned months before.” Letitia attempts to plead her case quickly, keeping her tone as calm as possible. “I just… need you there, Gens.”

Letitia’s thumb had paused in its motion, her hand now squeezing Genesis’ gently and Genesis lifts her head, eyes searching Letitia’s worried expression, searching her eyes, looking at her.

She takes a deep breath after a moment, heavy, the weight of the decision weighing down on her chest, yet she still trusts Letitia, just enough.

“I’ll go with you.” Genesis says quietly, but firm, watching as Letitia’s face lights up. “But, to make sure yuh head stays on straight.”

“Nothing about me is straight.” Letitia murmurs in a playful tone, causing Genesis to playfully roll her eyes as Letitia chuckles giddily at herself before Genesis looks to her phone, a reminder that she has therapy in half an hour.

“‘Ight… I gotta go.” Genesis pushes herself up, her and Letitia’s hands finally separating as she grabs her hot chocolate, already in a to-go cup, slinging her bag back across her body. “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Letitia catches the reluctance in Genesis’ voice and there’s a pang of sadness in her heart, a mixture of her overthinking their conversation and the overall emotion of not wanting Genesis to leave so soon. But she nods, and Genesis leans down slightly, kissing the top of Letitia’s head, on her cornrows before she moves towards the door, and Letitia’s head turns, watching her as she walks outside, turning right, heading opposite of Letitia’s position, the cold air greeting her quickly.

The days leading up to the trip slipped by like sand through an hourglass, each grain a moment of contemplation. Genesis stands before her open crossbody bag, its contents sparse but essential. She’s never been one to overpack, not that she’s ever had too much to work with, a few items of clothing, necessary toiletries, her sketchbook, and her camera.

As the day of departure dawns bright and early, still a grey sky filling the expanse, Genesis feels a flutter of nerves as she walks into the busy airport. Letitia had texted her the meeting point, past security, and after an hour of slow lines, she’s finally able to walk towards the space, her eyes landing on the familiar figure quickly.

Letitia’s presence is a beacon, her excitement palpable even from a distance with a big smile, and as their eyes meet, her eyes light up even more as she quickly closes the gap between them, hugging her tightly.

“I missed you.” Letitia whispers, words muffled by Genesis’ shoulder.

“You just saw me.”

But Letitia just shakes her head and they hold each other a moment longer before Letitia pulls back, taking Genesis’ hand gently, intertwining their fingers, and leading her to where the rest of the group sits, a small circle of mostly unfamiliar faces, yet Letitia doesn’t push any introductions or small talk, just leading Genesis to sit, staying close, her world seemingly shrinking to just the two of them.

The whispers they exchange are soft and intimate, gentle musings, reminiscent of actors sharing a secret joke between takes, a moment of genuine connection in midst of a scripted world. Letitia’s laughter is quiet, a sound that seems reserved just for Genesis in this last week together, her eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. Their shoulders brush together occasionally, a subtle contact that speaks of a mutual desire to remain connected.

And Genesis leans in closer, just a little, her face the same as it was when she arrived, calm, collected, yet her whisper brings a small knowing smile to Letitia’s lips. It’s a dance of dialogue, tender and loving.

Across from them, Fidji observes the scene unfold. The quiet exchanges don’t escape her notice, nor does the gentle way Genesis’ fingers reach up to gently run against Letitia’s cornrows. There’s a familiarity in these gestures, a language of touch and glance that speaks volumes.

Fidji’s glance is sharp, analytical, as if she’s trying to read this new and sudden dynamic. The way Letitia’s head tilts towards Genesis, the soft glow in her eyes. It wasn’t like that when Fidji was the one on her left side. Her lips press into a thin line, and she takes a slow sip of her drink, ice clinking against the glass like a punctuation to her unspoken thoughts. There’s an unmistakeable hint of distaste in her expression that reveals more than any words can, and she looks away before either of them notice, looking back to her sisters as they still continue to converse.

The boarding call for their flight eventually breaks the cocoon around Genesis and Letitia, the group gathering their belongings, the transition from the lounge shifting the energy surrounding them. Letitia stands, her hand slipping into Genesis’ with ease once more.

They join the line, the group’s dynamic subtly shifting at the reality of the departure setting in. Letitia’s hand gently squeezes Genesis’ as she leans in close to her ear, whispering.

“You okay?”

Genesis only nods and soon they finally cross the threshold into the bridge, the tight space bringing them even closer together, their quiet whispers seeming to funnel back to them, a reflection of their words and Letitia’s laughter remains quiet but heartfelt, an affectionate sound that seeps into Genesis’ heart.

Fidji walks several paces ahead, her posture perfect and stride confident, yet there’s a tightness around her eyes, acutely aware of Genesis and Letitia’s closeness from behind her. But she doesn’t look back, her grip on her boarding pass tightening, betraying her seemingly cool exterior, but they don’t notice.

The group files onto the plane, the seats of first-class wide and inviting, something Genesis has never experienced, a promise of comfort and isolation away from others.

They find their seats, beside one another, sinking into them, and Genesis looks around at all that’s available in this small space, and her eyes fall to Letitia, who gives her an almost teasing smile. But Genesis just slowly raises the cover between them, chuckling at Letitia’s playfully offended voice, before stopping, lowering it again, only doing it originally to mess with her.

As the plane eventually begins to taxi, Genesis slouches back in her seat, head resting back, allowing the engine to be her lullaby as her eyes start to fall closed, body still recovering from jet lag, and everything around her fades into darkness.

Suddenly, she sees the expansive field in Guyana, in the distance a fire roaring, casting the sky in an ominous glow. Yet, there’s nothing more.

But a single sound pierces through— the hum. A melody that seems to emerge from the very depths of her mind, the sound leaving the same effect it always does.

It’s a tune laden with emotion and history, yet she still doesn’t recognize it, she doesn’t see it as a thread connecting her to her past, calling to her. It’s just simply there, a calming vibration in the expanse of her subconscious, pulling her gently, leading her deeper in sleep.

As Genesis fades further into the dream, the landscape of which she sees begins to dissolve into shadow and the hum becomes everything, a soothing lullaby carrying her away and into the darkness. And soon, there’s only stillness.

Just the hum and the dark

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Morning in Lisbon greets Genesis with a subtle shift, one she been observing silently since the night prior, Letitia’s generosity in paying for the suite, now seemingly fostering a sense of entitlement among the sisters, the ease in which they take her kindness as due.

They spent the morning exploring the city’s streets, walking as a group, but Letitia, who was a constant at Genesis’ side the day before, now moves with fluidity ahead, and Genesis’ eyes are on her back as she walks slightly behind Fidji, talking with her quietly and Genesis hears her laugh.

She lags behind, letting the distance grow, a small experiment to test if her absence from the constellation is noticed. But the movement and conversation just continues to move forward without pause, laughter and playful musings rising over the quiet-ish streets.

And Genesis only sighs, maintaining her pace as the pieces in her mind start to connect.

As the day trails on, Genesis notices the same things over and over, Letitia’s personality shifting to a person she’s not even sure she recognizes. It’s been her fear since that night in Milan, maybe even a little before that, and she knew she was going to have to keep an eye on it, and it’s what she expected.

They’re at a club in the night, a little separation in the group, maybe needed. Letitia and her friends are kind of gathered, drinking wine or whatever thing of alcohol is desired at the time, but Genesis remains in her quiet corner.

Letitia’s gaze lingers on Genesis from across the room, watching as she’s engaged in easy conversation with a girl who’s a stranger to them both. There’s an unmistakable tightness that grips Letitia’s heart, an unbidden discomfort at the sight of Genesis’ gentle laughter, even tentative, being shared with someone else. When the girl departs, leaving Genesis in her peace against the wall, Letitia feels the pull towards her, discarding her half-finished drink on the bar, weaving through the crowd towards Genesis.

“Who was that?” Letitia questions, standing close enough now to notice the subtle shift in Genesis’ demeanor.

“Nobody you need to be worried of,” Genesis replies, her voice light, almost teasing, chuckling slightly as she relaxes further against the cool wall.

“And you’re laughing?” Letitia can’t help but add, the tightness in her chest now manifesting in her words.

A beat of silence falls between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts, and Genesis pushes off from the wall and edged toward the exit after a moment.

“I need some air.” She mutters, eyes remaining away from Letitia and heading outside. Yet, she doesn’t get far before she hears Letitia’s footsteps behind her, followed by her voice.

“Where are you going?” Letitia asks, following after her quickly, yet Genesis continues forward. But Letitia soon catches her, moving her body in front of hers, blocking her path.

“Move!” She calls out to her, but Letitia doesn’t budge, and Genesis pushes her back lightly, freezing in her steps. “Move, Tish!”

The reaction causes for Letitia to look at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed towards her, but Genesis’ expression is firm.

“Why you acting like some jealous teenage boy? Now you notice me, eh?”

“You think things changed suddenly? To make you go do that?” She motions to the club.

“Some things definitely changed.” Genesis says bitterly, eyes remaining on Letitia’s. “Whenever you used to do all this, the parties, the clubs, go with all types of people from who knows where doing who knows what. I know why yuh friends leave-“

“They left cause them didn’t like the life.” Letitia’s very adamant, speaking with her hands, but Genesis shakes her head. “What do you want me to do? Just suffer and suffer-“

“We are suffering, I done suffer and you didn’t even know!“ Genesis raises her voice. “Yuh used to come and go, I had to watch you with all those women-“

“And you’re any different?”

In that moment, a sound falls off of Genesis’ lips, a slight sucking sound, audible of distaste and annoyance as she attempts to walk past her again, only to have her bicep grabbed and Genesis swings, her hand coming into contact with Letitia’s cheek, the sound not too harsh, but audible enough to turn Letitia’s head, her hand flying to her cheek as she turns her head back towards her, yet it’s not from pain, but from the surprise of Genesis’ action. A rare break in her always steady composure both of them staring at each other in the tension.

“Who really care for you, Tish? Your ‘friends’… spending all your money, using your likeness…”

In the aftermath of the unexpected contact, a shock runs through both women, an electric current of reality jarring them from the night’s indulgent fantasy.

“You swim in pollution, you get polluted,” Genesis continues, pressing her finger to her chest with conviction, her gesture punctuating her plea. It’s a reminder of their shared values, of conversations that had previously woven the fabric of their bond—conversations about authenticity, integrity, and the seductive danger of losing oneself to a world that takes more than it gives.

Their eyes lock then, two forces of nature caught in a moment of raw honesty. Genesis’ words hanging in the air between them, a stark truth that strips away the veneer of the evening’s glamour.

“We used to talk of this and everything else when you only had a few fancy shirts!” Genesis’s fingers grip the material of Letitia’s jacket, a tactile echo of her words. “It’s time to wake up. Wake up, Tish!”

The air around them is charged with the intensity of the moment. Letitia’s eyes, previously hardened by defensiveness, are now more gentle, the layers of realization and vulnerability blending into a look of awakening. She can see Genesis— not just the woman before her, but the essence of the person she knows, the one who has always dared to speak the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. The one who’s always been there to catch her.

And she can finally see the reality of the life she’s brought onto herself

Increasing overwhelmed and overstimulated, Genesis attempts to pull away, a well of emotions churning inside her, starting to walk off, but Letitia’s instincts kick in quickly. She catches up, reaching out swiftly, her fingers wrapping around Genesis’s forearm, an unspoken plea for her to not react like she did a moment ago. Genesis’ muscles tense in response, her instinct to flee momentarily overwhelming her desire to reconcile, something Letitia can feel.

“Genesis, wait,” Letitia implores, her voice tinged with desperation.

Genesis’s movement doesn’t halt much, though her body language speaks of her inner turmoil. She continues to try and step forward, to extricate herself from the situation, but Letitia isn’t letting her slip away, not now, not like this.

In a fluid motion born out of urgency, Letitia steps closer, her arms encircling Genesis in a firm yet gentle hold.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, her voice a whisper against the night. “Please.”

Genesis’ natural instinct is to resist, to shake off the hold and find refuge in the quiet streets of Lisbon. She still tries to pull away, her movements born of a reflex to escape confrontation and vulnerability. But Letitia, driven by a sudden clarity of what’s at stake, refuses to let her go again.

“I’m sorry…” Letitia murmurs again, a mantra of reconciliation. “I’m sorry…”

The words reverberate through the small space they occupy, weaving a spell that seems to slow the world around them. Genesis can hear the genuine regret in Letitia’s tone, the vibration of her voice repeating the words over and over in her ear, resonating with a truth that’s impossible to ignore.

And something in Genesis yields, a wall within her crumbling, allowing the sincerity of the moment to seep through the cracks. Her body relaxes against Letitia’s, the fight to pull away diminishing with each shared breath, each whispered word.

In the cocoon of Letitia’s arms, Genesis allows the silence to envelop them, a sanctuary from the night’s earlier chaos, now filled only with the sound of their breathing and the distant melody from the club’s interior.

The embrace becomes their entire world, a haven amidst uncertainty. Letitia’s apologies still continue, even more hushed, hanging in the air, her breath warm on Genesis’s ear, a silent testament to the intensity of the moment.

Genesis soon shifts ever so slightly, her movements delicate but intentional, gently pulling Letitia back enough to see her face, and without a word, Genesis closes the small distance between them, pressing her lips to Letitia’s, shutting up her quiet ramble, grounding her.

The kiss lingers, a slow and gentle mingling that speaks volumes, each soft brush of their lips a reaffirmation of connection and care. And when they finally pull away, there’s a breathless quality to the space between them, as if the air itself is charged with the intensity and tension radiating off of them.

Letitia’s eyes remain closed for a moment longer, savoring the feeling. Genesis’ does as well, brushing a thumb across Letitia’s cheek, tracing the line where her own hand had made contact earlier, erasing any remnants of the night’s earlier tension.

“Don’t lose yourself… yuh hear?” Genesis voices quietly, voice still breathless. “And you do all that again and I’m gone.”

There’s silence between them even as Letitia nods in understanding, relaxing under Genesis’ touch.

Letitia’s eyes flutter open, her gaze looking upon Genesis with a vulnerability that only the raw honesty of love can elicit, the threat hanging in the air between them is a revelation, a crystallizing moment that anchors Letitia to the spot.

They head back to the hotel with fingers entwined, Letitia leading the way to a newly acquired room, a decision made in silent understanding that they need isolation from the sisters, from everything that can intrude on the sanctity of the newfound understanding. She procurers them their own space, a quiet sanctuary where the outside world can be kept at bay, allowing them to be alone with each other and their thoughts.

The room’s dimly lit, the soft glow of bedside lamps casting gentle shadows across the walls, creating a cocoon of warmth and privacy. They lay side by side on the bed, their bodies close but not touching, enveloped in a shared silence that’s as comforting as it is communicative. The tumultuous emotions of the night have given way to a calm understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of the depth of their connection.

As they lay there, the noise of the city seems distant, irrelevant even. The quiet between them, a healing space, a soft fabric woven from threads of tension and tender realization. Letitia soon turns her head to look at Genesis, her eyes conveying the emotions that words can scarcely capture.

“Thank you,” She whispered, her voice barely audible yet clear in the stillness of the room. “Thank you for finding me.”

It’s a simple statement, but laden with meaning—recognition of how Genesis has seen through the facade, has reached past the surface and pulled Letitia back from the brink of losing herself. It’s an acknowledgment of Genesis’s strength, her unwillingness to let Letitia drift away, and her courage in confronting the painful truths.

Genesis turns to face Letitia, their eyes meeting in the semi-darkness, a silent conversation passing between them. She reaches out then, her hand gently brushing Letitia’s cheek once more, a mirror of the earlier gesture that had marked the beginning of their night’s emotional journey.

Her gaze is full of emotion and in the semi-darkness, their eyes lock, communicating more than words ever can. The air around them seems charged with the intensity of their connection, each breath a shared rhythm.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Genesis leans in, pressing her lips to Letitia’s in a kiss.

And she can feel it. How the woman she knew had returned to her.

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shurisnovia · 13 days

Text

no woman, no cry (chapter four)

warnings. reoccurring dream. smoking. brief mention of mental breakdown and self-harm. fluff. flashback to the night in accra. tension. foreplay (18+)

notes. the last two weeks have been very hectic and I apologize for not posting last weekend but none of this was done, i won’t lie. i’m still between wether to write smut in it’s full here or keep it at foreplay and allude to it later on, and with little time on my hands right now i had to make a quick decision for this chapter. but i hope you all enjoy regardless ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A delicate plume of smoke from her spliff traces patterns in the air, dissipating into nothingness, each slow exhale helps the tension seep from her body as her hand sways ever so slightly, conducting the smoke in a silent, languid ballet. She lays on her bed, eyes closed, adrift in the rhythm of the gentle strain of reggae that plays from her record player, each pulse a beat through her veins.

Her phone’s ring is a soft intrusion, a ripple across the calming surface of her solitude. With a heavy sigh, Genesis’ eyes open, her hand reaching down beside her to silence the insistent melody, answering and raising it to her ear.

“Hello?” She answers, her voice infused ever so slightly with the residual calm from her private reverie.

“Gens, hey…” Letitia’s voice comes in, a familiar cadence of warmth and concern. “I haven’t heard from you in a bit, wanted to make sure things are okay?”

Genesis sits up, pushing herself to the edge of the bed as she leans forward, the spliff now forgotten in her fingertips.

“Yeah, I’m just lying low. I’m not really used to…” She trails off, not sure how to truly finish the sentence, although it is true, she’s never really had anyone to check in with, at least not in this way, and the trace of sheepishness in her tone showcases that.

“I know.” Letitia’s tone softens.

The intimacy in Letitia’s concern is tangible, and Genesis feels the warmth that spreads through her chest at the care in her voice.

“Bad habit, I’ll… I’ll do better.” she tries to assure her, rubbing the back of her neck, an action that matches her tone, mind racing, contemplating on offering the invitation.

“Um, so, we’re having a little session tonight… nothing big, just the boys and…” She trails off once more, a hint of hesitance threading through.

“And…?”

“I was wondering if you’d wanna come over? A little make up for disappearing on you… and I’d like to have you here.” She finally finishes, her tone hopeful and shy, a rare glimpse of external vulnerability.

“I’d love to, Gens. Just let me know when I need to show my beautiful face.” A soft chuckle escapes Letitia’s lips, one filled with affection and Genesis knows she’s smiling.

Genesis can’t help but roll her eyes at Letitia’s antics, but relief blooms through her whole being.

“Irie… I uh, I’ll text the details.”

They end the call with gentle goodbyes and Genesis quickly sends over the information before she forgets, setting her phone down, sitting there for a moment longer, basking in the afterglow of the conversation.

She then takes one last drag from the spliff before putting it out in her holder that sits on her nightstand, pushing herself up off the bed and walking to her closet to get changed into slightly nicer clothes, intent on helping the boys prepare for the night.

Once she’s changed over from her normalcy of sweats and a muscle tee, she shuffles down the hallway, her footsteps a soft movement against the hardwood. She’s just returned from Portugal, her body still not having shaken off the journey to Italy from Jamaica before then, leaving a persistent cloak of exhaustion.

The warm chatter of the boys fill the air as she approaches the kitchen, Julian absorbed in reordering the living space, rearranging items with a curator’s touch.

“Everything good with you?” He questions without looking up, voice warm.

Genesis nods in reply to him, stepping into the kitchen, finding Ziggy and Ragga there, a spread of rolling papers and herbs laid out before them. The rich scent’s comforting, familiar, and they both look up as they hear her enter, Ziggy’s eyes crinkling with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Morning, Gen.” Ragga greets, his tone gentle.

“Morning,” She murmurs, attempting to brush off the weariness with a faint smile, walking behind them to where the knifes are kept, grasping the handle of one to help.

But Ziggy’s quick, his hand gentle but firm as he takes the knife from her grasp.

“Nah, Gen,” He says, his eyes holding a mixture of affection and caution. “You sit and relax a bit, yeah?”

Her hand lingers in the air for a moment, a silent testament to her interrupted intent.

“I’m fine, really.” She insists softly, though the heaviness in her body betrays her words.

Ragga exchanges a look with Ziggy, and Julian, paused in his task, now lingers by the entryway of the kitchen. They all remember the breakdown from last year, and then the months that followed after Genesis just left, trying to find her footing again. She remembers it all too well too.

“Genesis,” Ziggy begins again, his voice ever steady, “we know yuh good, but we don’t wan’ push it, y’know?”

Genesis’ protests waver, faltering under their collective concern and she lets out a breath, a silent concession, her arms raising in a mock surrender.

“Fine, I’ll go and… chill.” She trails off, the last word tinged with reluctant acceptance. She turns, leaving the kitchen to the sound of Julian’s words behind her as Ziggy and Ragga continue with their jobs.

“Yuh not think that’s too much?”

She knows that’s in reference to her.

Settling onto the couch, Genesis allows her eyes to close, a flicker of annoyance threading through her at both her friend’s overprotective natures and her own inability to push past the weariness. She’s poised at the edge of sleep quickly, body still exhausted, teetering into the welcome arms of rest, when the now all-too-familiar hum begins to weave through her consciousness yet again.

It’s the usual timbre, textured with the light rasp that seems to resonate with an ancient familiarity. Each vibration of the sound’s like a thread, stitching her to a tapestry of memory and feeling she can’t quite place. It wraps around her, a comforting enigma that’s both haunting and soothing, a presence that feels like home, yet something she still can’t put a name to, still not able to trace its origin in her waking thoughts.

The humming tune swells, a crescendo that envelops her with warmth, lulling her deeper towards sleep, causing her to hover between awareness and dreams, where the voice feels so close, like she can reach out and touch the source with ease.

But the moment’s interpreted by the sound of the front door opening and closing in a swift motion, a harsh return to reality as the hum suddenly fades, leaving her in just the darkness, now punctuated by Junior’s distinctive voice.

“Wha’ gwaan? Mi just forward.” He announces, his ascent a melodic dance of Paitos filling the room as his steps sound gently on the floorboards.

But Genesis doesn’t open her eyes, instead just lifting a hand in a half-hearted wave off.

“Let me sleep, Juni, yeah?” Her voice is a mumble, already heavy with the sleep that clings to her.

Junior chuckles, a rich sound that bounces through the room.

“Yeah, yeah, lazy girl.”

It’s a tease, his usual nature, and usually Genesis would roll her eyes. But she remains unmoving and hears how his footsteps recede as her hand falls back across her abdomen. With the elusive hum now gone, having retreated to the back of her mind, all she hears is the sounds of Junior moving about, towards the kitchen, and the sound of the other boys welcoming him.

But still, she drifts, her tiredness anchoring her into the deep depths of sleep, and soon her breathing evens out, her body finally surrendering fully to the quiet pull of it, giving in to the full expanse of the darkness that consumes her

Behind her eyes, the hum returns slowly, a rich melody that seems to emanate from her very conscious, fading in. Deep and resonant, holding the weight of years within each undulating note, a tune shaped from years of experience and time. It’s not just a sound within her mind, she realizes, but a voice without words, telling a tale. Calling out to her.

The melody twists through the darkness, wrapping around Genesis’ conscious. It’s both comforting and forbidding, like a hauntingly beautiful prelude of sorts to something she can’t predict.

The tranquil forest soon comes into her sight, suddenly burst into an inferno, a blaze of bright orange that licks the sky with its fiery tongues. She’s now a child, no older than seven or eight years-old, running from the flames, her heart’s pounding in her chest as the roar of the fire spreads in monstrous pursuit.

The sound of hooves thunders from behind, suddenly, a relentless beat that promises no escape. She dares not to look back, she knows better, even as the rider’s voice calls out to her, an echo that seems to rise from the very earth beneath her feet.

But ahead of her, the scene mirrors the forest behind her, causing her to skid to a stop, her young eyes wide with fear, and the rider circles around to face her, his own face a blur, identity cloaked by her memory, yet his presence remains commanding. He reaches down towards her, a golden ring in his palm, and she takes it hesitantly, fingers closing around the ring as she takes it in. It adorns the Lion of Judah, a symbol that seems to pierce the veil with significance.

And suddenly, reality shifts like sand underfoot and she’s transported back to a time before, a time of innocence. Now younger, she sits in the back of a car, seeing the backside of her father as he sings the chorus to “Three Little Birds”, which plays on the radio, lazily. His hand reaches back after a quick moment, tickling her and soft laughter bubbles up from her younger self, a sound of pure joy.

But her laughter begins to muffle, the sound distorting, as if she’s sunken under water, every movement around her seemingly slowed. Her gaze is drawn to her father’s right hand, to the ring that bares an uncanny resemblance to the one she just saw.

In the waking world, Genesis’ face is a canvas of distress, eyebrows knitted together, a sheen of tears threatening to break through the facade of sleep.

Jernir, one of Ziggy’s friends, drawn by the sound of Genesis’ troubled slumber, approaches with furrowed brows, nudging her shoulder a bit too eagerly, along with a loud voice, and Genesis is catapulted back to reality.

“Yo, Gen!”

Her eyes snap open, body jolting up in an instant and tears start to betray her as she attempts to steady her breathing.

“All the waterworks, you pussy. Ain’t need none of that.” Jernir chuckles, finding humor in the way of her waking.

Genesis, gathering her composure, wipes her tears away quickly, pushing herself up from the couch. She keeps her head down as she pushes past Jernir, their shoulders brushing in a silent exchange, but she doesn’t care, even after he calls after her, mindlessly walking to her room.

It’s a sanctuary, the walls holding all the quiet she needs, stepping inside, closing the door in a rush as she walks in deeper, leaning over her desk as she hangs her head, trying to tether herself to the moment. Her breathing’s a whisper in the stillness, a rhythm she focuses on to dispel the lingering grip on her chest from her dream.

With each deep breath, despite the small shake that plagues it, the tension slowly begins to fade away, leaving her more present and grounded, her now natural state. And when she opens her eyes, they fall upon her ring— her father’s ring, the ring, the tangible piece of her reoccurring dream materialized in the real sphere.

Her movements are tentative as she reaches out, her fingers closing around the cool metal, and she feels the heavy weight of history in between her fingers. The Lion of Judah stares back at her, a legacy, a piece of her heritage. She rubs her thumb over the engraving, feeling the lines that had been traced by her father’s own fingers years ago.

With reverence, she slides the ring onto her right ring finger. It’s a little loose, but fits enough to stay put, as though it’s been waiting for her to reclaim it. The metal’s cool against her skin, a silent affirmation of her past, never truly lost or forgotten.

A sudden knock at her door pulls her out of her thoughts, and she turns finding Letitia standing in her doorway, a gentle gaze looking onto her.

“Hey,” She murmurs, her voice tinged with concern.

“Hi…” Genesis manages to get out, her voice steadier than she felt, straightening her demeanor. “When did you…”

“Julian let me in, said I could put my bag in here.” She replies, walking in and placing her bag down by the door of Genesis’ bed.

And in the quiet of the room, Letitia reaches out, her arms encircling Genesis in an embrace that feels like an escape from the outside world. Genesis melts into it, her head finding Letitia’s collarbone, the earlier disorientation begins to dissolve, the vivid images images of her dream blurring in the moment, the warmth from Letitia’s body seeps into her, a soothing balm to the cold unease that clutches at her chest.

“You okay?” Letitia’s voice is a soft whisper, barely more than the rustle of fabric as Genesis pulls away.

Genesis nods, her demeanor now carrying the resolve she was able to muster, turning towards her closet, the door left pushed open, always, and she reaches for the black leather jacket, shrugging it on, her favorite add on, always.

“Ready to get high.” She adds, a hint of defiance laced with the desire to escape the lingering shadows of her dream.

Letitia watches her, eyes tracing the lines of the jacket as it settles on Genesis’ frame, the leather amplifying the contours of her outfit and the two golden chains on her neck. There’s a small flash of recognition crosses Letitia’s face— that’s her jacket, the one she draped over Genesis one night out in New York City back in 2018, a tangible piece of their history, even if Genesis doesn’t exactly remember.

Genesis catches Letitia’s lingering gaze and holds it, her own eyes questioning the intensity within.

“What?” She questions softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Letitia just simply shakes her head, her expression one of mixed amusement and something more changed, a subtle acknowledgement of the attraction that the jacket seems to accentuate, walking forward and gently pulling on the edges, fixing it on her frame.

Her gaze moves up to meet Genesis’ eyes, unwavering now, and Letitia brings her hand up, brushing against Genesis’ cheek with a tenderness that belies the strength of her touch.

Genesis feels how her breath hitches, caught in the gravity of the moment, eyes locked with each others, filled with a complex mix of feelings— the lingering touch of the past, the comfort of the present, the uncharted potential of the future. All of it.

Letitia leans in slowly, her lips grazing against Genesis’ before they connect, a gentle inquiry and a firm declaration all at once. The leather jacket creaks slightly as Genesis moves her arms to encircle Letitia, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss with a careful intensity.

And as they part, just as slow, after passing moments, their foreheads rest against one another’s, the world outside Genesis’ room seeming to pause in deference to their connection. There’s a sense of completion, a circuit closing, leaving them both grounded and yet somehow more alive.

And with that, silently, hand in hand, they leave, Letitia guiding as they re-enter the world outside.

The living room’s transformed into a vibrant den of sound and scent, alive with the rhythmic pulse of reggae music that fills every corner. The bass thumps a heartbeat, syncing with the collective mood of the small gathering, while the higher pitches of the melody weave through the air, binding the group in a musical embrace.

Smoke curls lazily upwards, tinted by soft lighting that casts a warm glow over the room, giving everything a hazy, dreamlike, quality. The air’s rich with the earthy scent of ganja, a tangible marker of the night’s laid-back intent. Friends lounge across various couches and cushions, or stand among the area, the atmosphere one of relaxed camaraderie, punctuated by spurts of laughter.

Letitia watches as Genesis, with practiced ease, grabs a spliff and lights it, the flame from the lighter flickering briefly, illuminating her focused expression as she brings it closer to her lips, the spliff already positioned between, now glowing slightly. Putting her lighter away, she breaths in a deep, measured, breath, her eyes closing in satisfaction as she savors the rush of the herb, a small sigh leaving her lips as she opens her eyes, gaze settling on Letitia, extending the spliff towards her with the smallest smirk turning her lips upward.

She hesitates, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing her features, the memory of being overwhelmingly high is still vivid in her mind, a ghost of a sensation that still makes her wary.

“Remember Accra?”

Genesis had leaned closer to her, her voice low, almost teasing as her warm breath tickled Letitia’s ear. And it comes flooding back to Letitia’s mind all too easily.

The pulsating beat of the club, bodies moving in sync with the music and each other, the air thick with anticipation and the sharp scent of spirits mixed with the warmth of Accra— a night of sensory overload.

Letitia remembers the euphoria of the music reverberating through her body, the laughter of her friends blending with the rhythm of the dance floor below. Everything felt amplified, the colors more vivid, the touch of skin in any way or amount more electric. Genesis was there, her energy infectious, her smile a beacon in the dimly lit club.

Settled in the VIP section, they were in their own world, a bubble within the chaos of the club. Genesis had been wandering around at the time.

The high from earlier events had Letitia feeling weightless, her inhibitions dissolving into the night. At some point, she doesn’t really remember when, the distance between her and Genesis closed, their bodies almost intertwining as they stood by the railing. She could feel the heat from Genesis’ usually cold skin, could see the glistening sheen of sweat against her forehead, reflecting from the sporadic flashes of the strobe lights.

They were leaning into each other, the loudness of the club forcing them to speak directly into each other’s ears to be heard. Letitia’s hand had found Genesis’ hand on top of her shoulder as Genesis stood behind her, her own placed on top of hers, a steadying touch that lingered. Letitia had turned her head, their faces only inches apart, Genesis’ breath warm on Letitia’s lips.

The desire to close that small distance had been overwhelming. They were on the edge of something undefined, a precipice that promised either ruin or the most exhilarating of flights. But just as their lips were about to meet, a friend had stumbled into their sides, laughing and oblivious, pulling them back into the group’s dynamic, the moment slipping away just like the smoke.

It was for the best, maybe. She was with Eva at the time.

But now she isn’t. She’s with Genesis, and her words were enough to coax a small nod from her, accepting the spliff, her fingers brushing against Genesis’ as it’s passed off.

Still, with a tentative gaze, Letitia brings the spliff to her lips, drawing in a shallow breath of smoke. She coughs a little after doing so, not having smoked since Ghana, not one to make a habit of it with how her youth was, and she chuckles at herself lightly, Genesis’ own blending in.

“Easy,” Genesis teases quietly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Not a race, yeah?”

Letitia can only nod once more, more at ease now, the initial hesitation washing away thanks to Genesis’ comforting presence and a playful nudge. With that, she takes another drag, more natural now, the smoke settling more smoothly this time.

They blend into the conversations that flows around them, the room a cocoon of sound from the music that continues to play— a mix of the Marley family and newer reggae fusion— to the intermittent bursts of laughter and the soft, continual murmur of voices, Julian, Ragga, Ziggy, and Junior all telling everyone stories of their and Genesis’ youths.

Having found a place on the couch, Genesis watches Letitia from beside her, noting the relaxation that gradually eases the lines of her face, the light from the lamps casting shadows that play over her features, highlighting the subtle transformation from hesitant to tranquil as she folds into Genesis’ group with a comfortable ease, as if she’s always just been there, smiling bright and laughing loudly, in turn causing Genesis to fall into it too.

Letitia notices it quickly, the confidence that radiates off of her like this.

Genesis, with her compelling aura magnified in a casual, yet sharp, attire of a white button-down and a black leather jacket, two gold chains on her neck and her father’s ring on her right hand.

Letitia, beside her, outfit complementary yet distinct in its simplicity, has a gleam in her eyes as Genesis extends the spliff to her, their fingers brushing, a spark inching its way through their skin at the feeling as the room around them is alive. A tapestry of accents and laughter as the boys all fill the space with vibrant stories of their youth or recent events, and small musings and teasings fired back and forth to others in the room, involving light nudges or the ruffle of dreadlocks.

Genesis and Letitia lean back against the couch, leaning into the comfort of each other, the group’s energy, and the overall warmth of the room, Letitia’s arm hiding a natural place around Genesis’ shoulders as laughter and talk swirls around them.

It’s intimate and real, their actions, and as the phones emerge, capturing the essence of the night, Letitia reaches for her sunglasses that are hanging on the collar of her crewneck, a silent dance having been done before. The movement sends Genesis back to the vibrant night in Accra a couple years back, the rhythm of the night being alive with it all, the shadow of the New Year’s coming forward, how Letitia had placed her glasses on as her shield to the world’s watching eyes, her fans searching for any and every glimpse of her.

“What?” Letitia whispers, a small smirk playing on her lips as the sunglasses click into place, shielding the world from the redness of her eyes and her euphoric gaze.

Genesis’ chuckle is soft, unable to control it now, a low harmony to the reggae bass in the background.

“Just… thinking.”

The haze of smoke and the buzz from the high wrap around them like a cloak, Letitia’s presence an intoxicating force as they chuckle together. Yet as the night continues, with a boldness borrowed from the evening’s events and spirit, Letitia’s teasings become more tangible, her light touches light but full of intent.

Eventually, her hand finds its way to Genesis’ thigh, her thumb delicately rubbing against Genesis’ jeans. The subtle touch is electrifying, carrying the unvoiced desires with it, simmering beneath a collected exterior. Across the room, laughter and chatter from the boys and the others fill the air, but for the two of them, their world has narrowed down to the space between them.

Slowly, Letitia’s touches grow bolder, her fingertips drawing movements that gradually shift closer. There’s an unspoken plea in her movements that Genesis notices, a yearning. As her hand gets too close, Genesis finally places hers over Letitia’s, her heart beating hard in her chest, sucking on her bottom lip for a moment and Letitia takes advantage, her head turning towards Genesis, and Genesis can see her eyes behind the glasses, her gaze intense, lingering, and Genesis knows what she wants.

The energy in the room’s a blend of mellow vibes, an electric buzz that captures everyone’s attention in their own ways as they all continued to just lounge around, no one else aware of the want being communicated between them, a desire to retreat to a place less crowded, less watched.

With a subtle nod, Genesis rises from her place, her movements casual, betraying nothing of the current that’s leading her to the sanctuary of her room. Letitia waits a few moments, her gaze following Genesis intently as she disappears up the stairs before excusing herself without a word.

Genesis’ friends’ conversations just continued, uninterrupted, and Letitia feels how her heart races as she walks with measured steps to follow in Genesis’ direction. Soon, she reaches the door, finding it slightly ajar, a silent invitation, and she pushes it open, stepping inside, eyes immediately finding Genesis leaning back against her desk, an expectant look in her eyes.

The door clicks shut behind Letitia quietly, sealing them away from the rest of the world, the thumping bass from down in the living room now a muffled heartbeat, the rhythm of the night a distant echo to the feeling of urgency that fills the space between them.

Without a word, Genesis is the one to close the gap, arms wrapping around the back of Letitia’s neck, causing her breath to hitch as she looks into Genesis’ eyes. Green like emeralds, the most beautiful color she knows, and she finds a reflection of her own longing within her. But it’s Letitia who connects their lips, both a release and deepening of the tension that had brought them here.

Her actions are fuled by a want, forcing the leather jacket off Genesis’ shoulders, letting just fall to the floor before she lets the feeling consume her entirely, taking ahold of Genesis and moving her around to the door, pressing against her.

Letitia’s an inch taller than her, eyes almost level as their gazes, her hands trailing down from the hem of her shirt to her hips. Past her sunglasses, her brown eyes, hooded with the lust and high, stay on her as she lowers herself, getting onto her knees in front of her. Genesis tips her head back against the door, feeling how her shirt rides up to just below her bra-line.

The movement causes Genesis’ gaze to fall down, and their eyes meet immediately before she leans in, kissing the soft skin of Genesis’ now bare stomach, hands now on her waist, gripping tightly to keep her in place. Her eyes open, meeting Genesis’ once more as her lips continue to graze across her skin.

“Fuck…” Genesis murmurs under her breath, her senses feeling heightened in the moment as her head falls back again, eyes closing in utter bliss, and all she hears is her cheeky chuckle, feeling her fingertips squeeze her sides more.

And then she feels a soft nip, just above the waistband of her jeans and a small, whimper of a gasp leaves her lips, bucking forward from the sudden feeling.

“Fuck- Tish…”

She only chuckles again, a low murmur falling from her lips.

“Sorry.”

“You’re not.” Genesis manages, her fingertips moving up, gently gripping at her cornrows, and she doesn’t need to see her to know that her smug smirk is plastered on her face.

“Yeah… I’m not.”

Her teeth graze the hemline of her jeans again, her fingers unbuttoning them with ease before swiftly pulling them down, Genesis stepping out of them, using the support of her head, before Letitia suddenly stands, bringing her hands under her arms.

She lifts Genesis with ease, Genesis’ legs instinctively wrapping around her waist and Letitia’s hands find her ass as their lips meet once more, and Letitia smirks into the kiss, her feet on autopilot as she maneuvers her way to Genesis’ bed, up against wall to their right and she lays her down gently, hands on the middle of her back before standing before the edge, between her legs and pulling off her own shirt in a swift motion, leaving her in a gray sports bra.

Genesis’ eyes trail Letitia’s body as she leans her head up slightly, taking in the definition in her muscles that weren’t there before, always hiding under baggy clothes now, and she can tell all her days in the gym for her upcoming film is paying off.

She leans back over her, body hovering, and her lips find her neck, her opposite forearm placed over Genesis’ head, the other moving down to Genesis’ hips as Genesis wraps her legs around her, a shaky breath leaving her lips at the feeling of Letitia gently grazing against the skin on her neck, her hands finding the buttons on Genesis’ shirt and proceeding to undo them before Genesis helps her by shrugging it off and Letitia lowers her head, kissing the skin beneath her bare breasts, having worn no bra underneath.

Genesis’ fingers move to the back of her head, her fingertips gently running between the lines of cornrows, a quiet moan escaping her lips from all the feelings she’s feeling. The way Letitia’s hands feel on her skin, the way her lips feel, the way she moves with such tenderness, yet a clear need, and a want of control made known. And Letitia can’t help but smile at the way Genesis reacts to her touch, feeling her body tense and squirm slightly as her mouth continues to work across her skin, feeling her own tightness in her stomach at the mere sight of Genesis like this.

Her teeth nipped at your skin, getting closer and closer to Genesis’ nipples but always avoiding them, and Genesis’ hands wondered back up to her hair before tugging lightly on her, causing Letitia to buck into her.

It’s Genesis’ turn to smirk now, her fingers continuing to pull Letitia to her body, yet the smug feeling doesn’t last very long as Letitia moves both of Genesis’ hands above her before Genesis can even process it, leaving her very vulnerable to what’s to come, and Letitia leans back, ever so slightly, breath hot as it brushes against her lips.

She crosses Genesis wrists above her head before moving her lips back down to her navel, and Genesis lets out a yelp as Letitia flips her over, pulling her hips towards her own pelvis, allowing her to bend over and whisper in Genesis’ ear.

“What do you think you’re doing, mamas?”

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