Letitiawright - Tumblr Posts
Imma definitely need more bc Mo Washington has my ass going feralllll, I need her so bad
Middle of Nowhere
Mo Washington X Black!FreedWoman!Reader
A/N: I know I have other things to write chile, but Surrounded was so good, I had to show Mo some love. I hope y'all enjoy. Let me know how yall feel about it! Thanks for reading - Ro <3 Here we goooooo
P.S: Mo’s character is religious which is why I decided to use that in the story! Just forewarning youuuuuuuuhopeyouenjoywhetheryourereligiousornotuuuuuuuuu!
Oh, there she stood…pride being the only thing she can count on at this very moment. Covered in blood and sweat, defeat doing a dance across her brow. Dust covering her slacks and a mud stained face. Her chest rose and fell with caution, aggressively taunting her knees to give in but she wouldn’t let them budge. “Can I help ya, sir?” you call out, keeping your distance. You had absolutely no idea what she was capable of. Her eyes slowly come out of hiding from beneath her hat, and your breath catches itself into the air and holds. “A woman?” You whisper to yourself. You weren’t simple minded, knowing that a woman that has disguised herself in such a way had a good reason. “What’s ya name, baby?” Your words made her feel an ease that she has yet to feel, well…ever. Her silence was cold, the heat of the sun outside battling with her glare at you but you kindly smile in hopes of earning a response.
“I have some shelter for you. You wanna come with me?” You almost whisper the question, slowly easing toward her. “Please, I won’t hurt ya.” You jump back slightly, her flinching being the reason. This poor chile was terrified, but you were determined to help her.
“...I can walk on my own.” She rasps out, stumbling a bit toward you. You step back with caution, but your face never showed any signs of fear or intimidation. “Alright, come on now.” You guide her to your small home out in the middle of nowhere, she carried nothing but a gun on her hip and a furrowed brow that seemed as though it was permanently etched into her face. Those eyes said something different though.
“Here we are, this my home.” You tell her proudly. She whispers a soft “thank you” sitting down in the wooden chair next to your dining table. “What’s a woman like you, doin’ out here all by herself.” She asked, a smirk daring to appear. “I could ask you the same thing.” You chuckle and she lifts an eyebrow at you. “Was I supposed to pretend not to know, miss?” She huffs through her nose, mimicking a subtle snarl at your question. You kneel down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “May I?” Your polite smile brought a comfort into her that she couldn’t quite comprehend. God must want me to be here, so here I’ll be. She thinks, her eyes never leaving yours. She read many things about angels in the bible, but Lord forgive her if she was a bit skeptical of seeing one face to face. God always had a way of making a believer out of her.
She nods, and you pull her jacket from her small frame revealing a blood spattered vest. Your breath hitches at the sight and you refrain from asking if it was hers. “What’s ya name?” You ask her, that furrowed brow still present on her face. “Mo… Mo Washington.” She says, you smile at her in gratitude for her sliver of trust that developed out of thin air. “Mo…Washington.” You repeat slowly. Somehow, Mo’s brow relaxed at the sound of your voice saying her name. “Well Mo Washington, let's get you out of these filthy clothes.” You say, reaching for her vest buttons. She quickly grabs you by the hand, the cold glare returning with a hint of fear in her eyes. She releases your hand, removing the vest herself along with the shirt underneath it. The shirt rests on her shoulders, hesitating to remove it, Mo stares back at you.
“I-I’ll get ya some towels, I see the wound on ya shoulder.” You mumble, scrambling to your feet. You grab your towels and head back to where Mo sat, slouched over, holding her hands together in silent prayer. You wait patiently and quietly for her to finish her talk with God. You began to talk with him on your own. Lord, why you send this woman to me? Out of all the places you could’ve put her, you placed her in front of me. Your eyes never closed, you watched her as you both held two separate conversations with the only deity believed to set the both of you free. “You know it ain’ nice to stare while I’m praying, Miss…” She lifts her head, shifting her gaze from the floor to you. “Y/N…just Y/N.” you say, finally walking over to her and handing her the towels. It felt good to see another free woman such as yourself. It didn’t feel as good to see said freed woman so battered and worn. You find yourself taking in her features and she lets you while she tends to her wounds. “C-can I get you something to eat, Miss Washington?” You ask, she nods and you shuffle nervously over to retrieve some food for her. You sit it in front of her, taking a seat across from her. “You can sleep in the bed with me. You won’t mind will ya?” Your soft tone raises the heat in Mo’s cheeks. “It’s better than the col’ ground.” She chuckles shyly, taking a bite of her food.
“How you get this place? You kill somebody, run away?” She asks, you stare back at her in silence. “I built it. My own bare hands. It ain’t much, but it’s mine. Bought the wood with what I had from sharecropping and built this way out here.” You explained, it took you what felt like centuries to build this home, in the middle of nowhere where no one could disturb nor take away your freedom. Now in walks Mo, right into your territory, wandering angrily with a vendetta against herself. What you didn’t know is that your voice made her forgive herself instantly, because everything she had done to survive led her to this very moment with you. An ease in her body and mind personified, taking the shape of you. “Miss Washington, whatchu doin’ out here? There’s no town for miles, how you end up here?” Your question made Mo shift her posture.
“Had to defend myself, white boys thought they could pull a fast one on me. Took off as fast as I could in any direction, hopin’ the good Lord would let me get from there to anywhere safe.” Her answer has you in awe, your eyes go to the gun that rested on the table and back to her. “And that he did…” Mo sighs in relief and it compels you to stand, walking toward her, you kneel in front of her, helping her re-button her shirt. She allows you into her space and you take a mental note of her newly found gentleness. You peer up at her and lean closer to her face. She meets you halfway, your lips joining together and closing the gap between you two. When the two of you disconnect, your gazes at each other falters a bit. Your sweet smile makes an appearance yet again, and she grins back at you.
“Come on, Miss Washington. You look like you could use some rest.” you whisper. You guide her to your bed and let her get comfortable as you stand , watching her get accustomed to her new space. “I’ll be out front, watchin’ the stars. You need anything, I’m a holler away.” You say, heading out the door. “Thank you, Miss Y/N.” Mo says silently. You nod back at her and head out the door. The stars accompany you for hours as you think about the kiss that you and Mo shared. Mo fell asleep thinking about the same thing. She slept more peacefully than she ever had that night, the thought of your soft lips soothing her like a lullaby.
“Cat Got Your Tongue?” Pt. 3
Rosalie Otterbourne × Black!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Suggestive, angst if you squint, Rosalie being the only woman ever, reader is a simp off rip reader is the sister of Cab Calloway and the cousin of Billie Holiday, Rosalie has rizz
Summary: Being in love she didn't know whether she was falling or flying but she was airborne either way... or a story about a woman falling head over heels for another woman in the 1930s
Y/N awoke with a slight panic coursing through her body. She leapt up out of the bed gathering her clothes in a frenzy being careful not to awake the beauty still laying in the bed. She made quick work of getting redressed quietly exiting the room but not before giving Rosalie a kiss to her forehead. She raced down the hall towards her cousin’s room with tears streaming down her cheeks. She was in distress and needed her Mother figure’s advice at the moment. Making it to Billie’s room she rapped on the door waiting patiently to be granted access.
The door swung open revealing a wild Billie Holiday with smudged eyeliner and a crooked ponytail that she’d fix later or even out with a flower. “Chile, whatcha goin on bout? What’s these tears fo’?” Billie quickly shushed her pulling her into the room before anyone could see her. “Billie we leave today! I just met the most wonderful woman in my life and I’ll never see her again! I’ll never be able to hear her sweet voice or hold her in my arms ever again!”. Billie raised an eyebrow as to silently ask who this mystery woman was, Y/N quickly catching on spoke her name into existence. “Rosalie, Ms. Rosalie Otterbourne. Believe the good lord sent her fo’ me Billie” Billie nodded completely understanding the feeling of what her cousin was feeling.
“Nah Nah just calm down honey! I’ll call Cab and we’ll get this sorted just sat down over there.” Billie spoke picking up the phone dialing Cab, “Hello? Cab? Yeah, this Billie.. mhm, yo sister in here inna fit uh tears.. mhm, sum bout Rosalie Otterbourne… hello? Cab?”. The phone was quickly disconnected followed by a rap on the door. Billie placed the phone down taking a glance at Y/N who was now sobbing by the window. She opened the door to reveal a disheveled Cab Calloway in the flesh breathing deeply. “Where she at Billie? She still hea?” Billie nodded moving to the side to let the distressed jazz singer/ band conductor inside.
“Twixy baby? What’s tha matter?” Cab kneeled in front of Y/N gently holding her hands in his gazing up at her. He wiped her tears ready to listen to her fully. Y/N croaked out sniffing repeatedly “we’re leaving today and I’ll never see her again Foxy! God she’s so amazing and I want her so much yet we’ll neva cross paths again!”. She started sobbing all over again causing her brother to pull her into his arms rubbing her back softly. “Twixy baby I’ll push it back ya hear? Go wipe ya face and go get ya woman, Billie and I will follow ya down there for support. How’s that sound Twixy?” Cab raised his eyebrows at her with a soft smile
“Oh Foxy you’re wonderful!” Y/N cried out hugging his neck and kissing his cheek. She leaped up grabbing the dress Billie had sneakily laid out on the bed for her racing into the bathroom. She fixed herself up and rushed back out patting her hair making sure it looked good, “c’mon y’all we gotta go!”. She rushed back out of the room and towards the one her and Rosalie shared last night to find it empty, her heart dropped and she raced down to the lobby, Billie and Cab hot on her trail. She made it outside just in time to see the last luggage being loaded onto the tour bus. Panicking she yelled Rosalie’s name causing the other woman to turn around and glare. “Ah the rift raft is back after dippin out I see” her tone icy to match the diamonds on her neck.
She had tears in her eyes as she turned to walk away causing Y/N to gently take her wrist. “Rosalie please! I can explain just please… hear me out?” Rosalie huffed but nodded leading Y/N into an alleyway. “What do you want rift raft? Aren’t you satisfied after throwin me out to dry like a toy!?” Rosalie was pissed with a mix of hurt as she spoke. “Rosalie please, last night meant more to me than just a one night thing, you’re the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. My brother and I… our tour dates here were supposed to end today and I panicked thinking I wasn’t goin ever see you again.”
Rosalie listened silently as the woman spoke, her facial expression never changing. “I ran to my cousin’s room in tears she had to call my brother to calm me down.. he moved back the days so I could have more time with you! Rosalie please, I want you more than anything and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that!”. Y/N was now once again in tears as she spoke reaching out to hold Rosalie’s waist who surprisingly let her. “You dumb girl” Rosalie giggled out grabbing Y/N by her cheeks kissing her deeply “next time tell me so I don’t feel like my heart is gettin ripped out my chest.”
Y/N breathed a sigh of relief kissing the woman back gripping her waist pulling her closer. “Aren’t you leaving baby? I saw the luggage getting packed up” Y/N whispered against Rosalie’s lips causing Rosalie to shake her head. “My aunt’s partner is but we’re not… in fact my aunt talked to your brother… we’re joinin ya on tour sunflower!” Y/N grinned widely picking Rosalie up twirling her slowly. Once placed back on the ground Rosalie took her hand leading her back to where her Aunt was standing. “Auntie this here is my girl Y/N Calloway” Salome smirked softly at the woman holding her hand out “pleasure to be joinin ya on tour, ya got a beautiful voice by the way”.
She the nudged Rosalie who held a smirk of her own, Y/N in turn swung around to face Cab with a glare. “I panicked for no damn reason Foxy!???” Cab laughed loudly walking back into the hotel with Billie and Salome. Rosalie took her hand leading her back into the hotel whispering into her ear “let’s go get reacquainted with each other Hmm?” Y/N blushed following her in “yes ma’am”
She’s supposed to be on break but I’ll let it slide! Y’all come look at this plssssss. It’s a piece of art
Footprints in the Sand
Shuri X Black!Fem!Singer!Reader
Contains: Angst and fluff.
A/N: Listen... I have no other explanation other than, this idea was nawing at my brain like a toothless dog and I had to get this out of my mind! I'm sorry, I will be starting Mo Baby fics back up here soon and I'll be looking at the requests soon as well. Hope y'all enjoy. -Ro <3 Here We Goooooo
‘I walked many miles to feel this way, and all I am left with is disappointment. I am not disappointed in you, for that is something that I subconsciously expected from you anyway. I am disappointed in myself for going through with it. I was lost in your eyes, the same way I have seen everyone do, but you turned away from me as soon as I looked in them and looked past my reflection in your pupils, finding the truth within your soul. I’ll mind my business now, because that wasn’t your intention, you know, for me to see you? You wanted me to see what I wanted to hear, but I didn't. I saw you, and I loved you for it. I now look you dead in the eyes, the real you, and say goodbye. No one else will see her again. You never let her out. So you’ll eventually suffocate her with the mask that you’ve glued together for years. I hope that she has a beautiful funeral that I will not be attending. She will hold a special place in my heart forever, but she will no longer hide from me, because she will be dead. I wish you the best. The absolute, wondrous, spectacular, best. I pray for you still and hope that my voice reaches you in another dimension. Maybe another lifetime, but in this lifetime, I let you go. I choose me, from now on. I choose me. I will choose me because I am the only one in this situation that truly will. I am proud of that. I am beautiful, and my creations are miraculous. Congratulations on witnessing some of my magic, but the show ends here, my beautiful moment. Goodbye, I am letting you go because if you come back you have been mine in the first place, but I still get to decide if I dispose of you the way you did with my heart. I hope each and every temporary feeling adds up to what I could’ve provided because they will have to, because I am no longer here. Not on this astral plane, not in this life. I am letting your energy go. It is my choice. I choose me. ‘
“Shit…”
Shuri stares at the paper, reading your handwriting over and over again. She didn’t have time to fix this, not anymore at least. She wanted to support your art but she was busy. She wanted to attend your shows, but it wasn’t her scene. She wanted to love you but…
She couldn’t help but think that this was the most poetic way she’s ever been broken up with. Her heart had the illusion of still being intact, until you reached out and touched the deceptive thread that held it together. Stanzas lose their structure as they fall to her lungs, making it harder to breathe the reality of it. You’re gone.
You said goodbye so beautifully. What was she gonna do? You left in a way where she couldn’t be angry, so where would she store her loss? Where would her helplessness reside? She didn’t know that you left a trail in the sand within the beach that is disguised as her mind. Footprints at which she needed to follow, you being at the end, silently waiting. Would she let the ocean of tears wash them away before she got the hint? Everything about you was a song, singing and lulling Shuri’s oblivion to sleep as her lack of acceptance grew in her chest with every second that was passing.
“No…”
She says to herself. She isn’t letting you go. You must have lost it! Losing every ounce of resistance within, Shuri throws herself to her feet, snatching her jacket and heading out the door. She knew you were in the studio, where else would you be? A vibrational infirmary where melodies tend to your heart, a spiritual operation room stitching together broken melodies to allow your creative flow. It was the equivalent to the significance of Shuri’s lab to her. You sing melodies into the microphone, but from your ears, they’re cries from the depths of your gut. Trained ears couldn’t hear it as such, but a certain panther could hear it from a mile away. It pulled her in as she stepped through the door quietly, not wanting to interrupt your hundredth take of the night.
A note catches in your throat when you see her, and while melodies stopped dripping from your lips, the music never stopped. Her presence seemed ethereal while the music blasted in your ears. It seemed that your studio engineer left two minutes ago, you had no idea. The music continued and you both stared at each other, pupils speaking to one another, speaking a silent language to hide the conversation from the lips that only speak apologies at this very moment.
You two couldn’t snap out of it, it wasn’t a trance anyway. You both stood within a realm that no one else could describe, because no one other than the two of you can see it. An epiphany uprooted Shuri’s feet from the garden of hesitation and she finally moved toward you, pushing through the door to get to you. “Ba-...Shuri what are you d-” She held her hand up, stopping your sentence with the gesture. “Let me speak, please.” She says, her voice shook but she planted her feet yet again, this time in the soil of gratitude to the universe of her determination to get you back. She found the footprints, and you knew that.
“I’m not poetic… but I am a woman of science. I’ve seen Bast work miracles, so I cannot say that everything in science can be explained.” she slowly walks toward you, her hand outstretched, but your eyes are still on hers. “But what science can’t explain, love will. A miracle isn’t even the right word for the creation of you. Just please, I can figure it out…one line at a time, one note at a time, I can listen. I can try, My Love…please.” Her pleading spoke back to every show she missed, every problem she’s “kissed better,” every “Not right now, baby,” every “Shuri please, at least read it.” She spoke to every time your heart dropped when she wasn’t in the crowd. She spoke to each and every disappointed expression on your face after every show, asking your team “did Shuri show this time?”
“Please…” she begged again. You wanted to believe her, and truth be told…you did believe her. She just lied to you in the most alluring way. She said she wasn’t poetic, but the enchanting apology left her lips like smoke getting you high on forgiveness. There’s nothing more poetic than that at the moment. You wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your head in her chest. “Home?” you asked, Shuri chuckling at the one word that caused her so much relief. “Yeah baby, let’s go home.”
Shuri showed up to every show after that, staying up with you in the studio at times and making sure you rehearsed enough. She would sing your lyrics back to you and you loved that. All it took was a path on the sand, the ocean of her love appeared once again.
I love them so bad
Pretty Soldier
Mo Washington X Black!Seamstress!FreedWoman!Reader
Contains: Fluuuuuuuff
You stood outside of you and Mo’s shared bedroom, waiting for her to come out with her new, temporary look. You had an order for a dress that was due tomorrow and you had to put some finishing touches on it. Unfortunately, you couldn’t fix it while wearing it and you were too short to fit it anyway. “Oh no…you not puttin’ me in that thang.” she said to you, just a few moments earlier. You looked up at her with those pleading eyes. You didn’t even have to say anything before she snatched the dress from you and marched to the bedroom, mumbling something about how you were lucky that you were “cute and sweet” for her to be “puttin’ this mess on.” You giggled as she made her way into the room, slamming the door behind her, a victorious smile slapped across your face as you waited for her to come out.
“C’mon now, Mo Baby. Lemme see ya!” You chuckle out as she groans on the other side of the door. “Don’t rush me, or I ain’ comin’ out at all!” she grumbles. Stepping out of the room, she comes toward you rather gracefully, but a frown remains on her face. “Oh…baby you look so pretty.” you tell her, fixing the ruffles at the end of the sleeves. She hides a grin and rolls her eyes. “Hurry up so I can get outta this thang.” she says, stepping onto the crate so that you can add the finishing touches. “This got me itchin’, Honey Bee! Hurry up, now.” She complains and you laugh at her grumpiness. “Hol’ still an’ it won’t take so long, Baby.”
“You should wear dresses sometime, Mo. Y’look like an angel.” she scoffs at your comment and looks down at the dress that adorns her slender body. “Where would I put my holster in this? These will get caught on my gun, Honey Bee! I’m not wearin’ that!” She says, confusion lacing her gaze as she stares at herself in the mirror in front of her. “Well, maybe you can stop carryin’ ‘roun that gun all the time.” You say softly, knowing that Mo was about to protest. You wait for her to, but you’re met with silence. You look up to see her staring at her reflection with her head tilted. She examines herself carefully as if she’s considering something. She’s so beautiful, staring at herself with a slight grin that lifts her cheekbones a little. You stand in silence to let her discover what you have always seen her hide from herself. You hem the
other side of the dress and she twists a little to see herself from the side, smoothing down the dress in the front. You watch her admire herself a little more freely, a smile peeking through her lips. “Y’almost done, Honey Bee?” Her tone was a bit softer, not looking away from the mirror. “I was done ten minutes ago, Mo Baby.” You say treacly, your eyelashes bat slowly twice and she turns to you, looking down from her place on the crate. “Why don’t I make ya a nightgown, darlin’? You can wear it to bed, no ruffles and a lil pocket to hol’ ya bullets in?” You ask
She turns her body from left to right a couple times, testing the flow of the dress. She looks back up at you, contemplating her next response. “...I wanna pick the color.” She says, scrunching up her nose. She steps down and kisses you, heading back to the bedroom to change her clothes. When she comes out, she gently places the dress in your hands. “Thank you for doin’ this, Mo.” you say to her shyly. “Anything for you, My Honey Bee.” She says, adjusting her holster as she puts it back on her shoulders. You place the dress in the box, folded neatly, placing a written receipt on top of it. You smile, thinking of how Mo taught you to write. You’ve gotten better at it and it has been much easier to keep up with things for your business. You place the box on top of the crate and head over to where Mo sat, sitting in her lap. “My beautiful soldier, what color do you want your nightgown to be?”
Sometimes I need this
Don't Judge Me Shuri Udaku X Black!Fem Reader
Summary: You're insecure about continuing a relationship with Shuri because of past relationships, but Shuri is having none of that! Inspired by the song "Don't Judge Me" by Janelle Monae.
Warnings: Fluff, angst (not really), Sexual innuendos, mentions of sexual activity (barely, chile), It's in first person (Y/N's POV), cussing.... I think dassit.
She’s everything to me. Watching her fingertips trail down the side of my arm is the only thing convincing my mind that she is real. A phenomenal woman that has love that is the epitome of a ‘phenomenon.’ Her lips press against each other as if she is holding a secret between them, delicately keeping it close and slowly releasing it with a soft breath. Eyes fluttering shut, I embrace the warmth of her skin and a chuckle is released into the air, turning into a giggle as she nuzzles her nose into the crook of my neck and shoulder. My insecurity makes itself known in the corners of my mind, and at what cost? The currency of my peace spent on the thoughts that snatch me away from her. She needs not to know that the vulnerability that she evokes within is frowned upon by me. She would think it was her fault, and it is far from it. To deny her of this, of me in abundance, is only a result of my own foolish pride. Built by so many others who once called themselves a mere shell of a “lover,” a wall sits idle between a love like hers and what I will allow to escape from me to feed her desires. Her appreciation for me has a small appetite, for my fear only allows such little love to escape. Yet it remains strong and satisfied as it nibbles on the outskirts of a skeleton that was once full of anything that Shuri deserves. Everything that she deserves. What good is my silence if it only exists from the fabric of fear?
“You are driving me insane.” Shuri hums into my skin, squeezing both my arms gently. A chuckle escapes at the thought that she just voiced. “Why is that?” I ask, turning to face her. My eyes point downward, avoiding the windows beautifully placed in her eyes. While the breeze of every emotion she experiences flows through them, I cannot bear to bask in the beauty of them right now. I’m conflicted. “Because you think I don’t notice you silently fighting with yourself, my love.” My grin widens in embarrassment, she always knows how loud my silence is. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” There it is, the very thing that makes my mind sing like a canary every time. My name coming from her lips like sweet, smooth, freshly made caramel. She rubs my thighs, reassuring my skin, forbidding it to crawl in disturbance of what my lips are about to say. The truth. “I can’t do this, Shuri. I don’t want you to hurt me.” I admit my heart's complaint and the slow blink is a non-verbal quip from Shuri, ensuring that my fear is a joke to her ache for me.
She’s such a fucking woman, an alluring being that I can’t help but marvel at. Especially when she’s like this. Grabbing my insecurity by its collar and pushing it into submission when it tries to dominate the forefront of my mind. “I don’t intend to.” she tells me in a whisper, yet its strength never faltered. I begin on a quest of boldness, staring her in the face. “Shuri, I have been judged for loving, for being open. Being called an idiot for allowing myself to be vulnerable with people who don’t take me being in peril seriously. I expect you to be no different, and that isn’t fair. I can’t be what you want.” I hold her at her forearms, stopping the caressing hands of hers. The slow blink, followed by a smirk assaults my nervous system, shocking it back to life. “It isn’t funny…” I trail off. Shuri quickly turns her head to hide her smile. “I’m not laughing.” a breathy response in the middle of her attempt to stifle her chuckle. I roll my eyes and remove myself from her altogether. Our separation wasn’t long before Shuri pulled me flush against her chest.
“Let me ask you something.” She demands. “Have you ever really asked me what I wanted, or just assumed?” She has a point. I have never asked her what she wanted, unless I was between her thighs, sharing the intimacy of her verbal commands and soft, pleasurable sighs. I’ve never asked outside of that, and shame weighed my head down as it hung to avoid her peering down at me. “No.” I answer in finality. “So what if I just want you? Just how you are. In all of your essence? Just you.” She lifts my chin and our eyes give a quick salutations, our lips following their lead as they meet. “Now, what do you want?” She asks me. “I just don’t want you to judge me for loving you. You deserve love, I want to give you that without being seen as a fool.” She clicks her tongue in a tisk and smiles. “I’d never judge a love that I’ve always searched for. Why would I ever take that for granted?” Though her question was rhetorical, the silence between us answered any other questions that floated around in the realm that could only be described as the limited space between us. It grew smaller by the second and turned into a deep embrace. A soft hum escaped Shuri, contentment lacing the room.
“I’m right here, my love….”