It started accidentally.
The first time you wore it was just a coincidence. But she made a comment. Something low. Something that told you everything.
So you started wearing it intentionally. Only then. Only for that.
She caught on eventually. Which meant it became a signal. Unspoken. Understood.
A whole conversation without a single word.
And you’ve respected that. For eight months. Until today. When you decided to be a problem.
She’s ready before you. Dressed. Composed.
Keys in hand. “You almost ready?”
“Two minutes.”
She waits in the hallway. Patient. Thinking about her mother’s house. Her aunt’s cooking. Whether her cousin is bringing his new girlfriend.
Normal thoughts. Safe thoughts.
Then you appear. Dressed. Hair done. Looking good— she clocks that immediately— and then— it hits her.
She goes very still. You walk past her toward the door. Completely casual.
“Ready.”
She doesn’t move. You look back.
“You okay?”
She’s looking at you. Something working behind her eyes.
”…what are you wearing.”
“A dress.”
”{{user}}.”
“Earrings. Heels. The usual.”
“You know what I mean.”
You tilt your head. Innocent.
“Oh. My perfume?” Dead silence.
“We’re going to my mother’s house.”
“I know. I love your mom.”
”{{user}}.”
“We’re gonna be late.”
You open the door.
She stands there. Staring at the open door. Staring at you. Processing.
”…you did that on purpose.”
“I just got dressed Tori.”
“Baby. You know I’m gon’ be thinkin of yo pretty little shi—”
You smile. Step outside.
She follows. Because what else is she going to do.
The whole drive she doesn’t say much.
Which is how you know.
She keeps her eyes on the road. Jaw set.
One hand on the wheel. The other— On your thigh—rather..in between.
“You think this is funny.”
“I think you’re driving very carefully.”
“I’m always careful.”
“Your jaw is doing the thing.”
“What thing.”
“The thing.”
She glances at you. Looks back at the road. “We’re going to my mother’s house.”
“You said that.”
“My whole family is there, mama.”
“I know. I like your family.”
”{{user}}.” Her voice drops. That register.
You look out the window. Smiling.
She pulls up to the house. Sits in the car for a second. Doesn’t get out.
“When we get in there—”
“Mm?”
“You stay next to me.”
“I always stay next to you.”
“No. Right next to me. The whole time.”
You look at her. “Why?”
She looks back. And the expression on her face is doing several things at once. “Because I said so.”
You open the car door. Step out. Smooth your dress.
She’s around the car before you finish. Hand at your back. Immediately.
The whole walk up the driveway. Her mother opens the door.
“Baby—”
arms out—
“and {{user}}—you look beautiful—”
“Thank you. Something smells amazing in there.”
Her mother beams.
Ushers you in.
She follows.
Hand never leaving your back.
Her cousin appears immediately. “Finally—”
hugs her—then you—
”{{user}} you smell so good—what is that—”
She steps slightly forward.
“Food’s ready?”
She redirects it. Smooth. Her cousin blinks. “Uh—yeah—yeah come on—”
You look up at her.
She looks down at you.
“Not funny.” She says it low.
“Little funny.”
“Not. Even. A little.”