For three whole days you two have been at war.

He would leave with his friends, you’d get on the phone with your girls, both of y’all talking shit about the other but definitely popped a few mouths for speaking on each other. Those simple actions made you wonder why it couldn’t be so simple. Why did the roses, the dates, the communication all have to cease because of a stupid argument?

He didn’t want nobody else but you. He liked it when you laughed whenever he died playing the game, or how you’d cook his favorite food after he had a long day of apprenticing under his D.A of a professor and then basketball practice on top of that. He liked how you beamed whenever he presented flowers at your front door, argued about who’s paying what when he already has it covered. Oh he was hopelessly, dutifully in love with you…and he needed you back. That warmth, the heavy thud from his heart against his ribs. He gotta fix this.

“Baby…can we,” He sighed, not really prepared for this to go any other way. His fist closed tighter around the bouquet of lilies and carnelians, apology flowers.

“Can we talk?”