#fluffwithplot

MODERN!ELIJAH X OC (FLUFF....ONESHOT?MAYBE.)

"And I can't stop giving you all my loveee-oh love, loveeee" .

I caught my reflection in the mirror and smiled. It was date night—finally— and I'd been waiting since the last one ended. Which was maybe only less than a week ago, but still, that feeling never dulls or softens.

"Never too much, never too much, never too much ..." I was really feeling it tonight, giving white girl shoulders and everything. The seated dancing couldn't stop, the feet were tapping, and the curlers were long forgotten.

But another song was already tugging at me.

"Ohhh...Alexa, play A House Is Not a Home," I said, practically bouncing.

"Playing 'A House Is Not A Home" by Luther Vandross".

The piano crept in slow and aching, but I didn't wait for it. "Alexa, skip to fifty-six seconds," I demanded.

"A chair is still a chair, yess boyyy" I sang jumping ahead like I owned the track , I mean I didn't need really it— the lyrics were etched into me already.

"A chair is still a chair, even when there's no one sitting there...." I tilted my head up, eyes half-lidded. "But what's not a house?"

"But ohhh, a chair is not a house— I know, I know." I brought my head down dramatically as he dragged the note out, pulling something tender loose in my heart.

"And a house is not a home when there's no one there," I belted, voice cracking and all. "Where is my house, where is my home? 'Cause I need someone to hold me tight." I wrapped my hands around my chest, asking who or whatever.

"Oh I got a taste for Whitney next", I reminded myself.

Just as I was about to blow the house down, my phone buzzed, but I ignored it because nothing deserved to ruin this moment I have right now.

"A room is still a room, even when there's nothing there but gloom..." I shook my head. "But what's not a house, Luther?".

"But oh, a room is not a house."

I couldn't hold it anymore, I had to get up. This little ass chair wasn't doing it for me. I unplugged my curlers as I backed up from the vanity and headed towards my full-body mirror. I need my stage.

"And a house is not a home when the two of us.... are far apart." I sang to myself as I wrapped the cord around my hand, a makeshift microphone tethering me in place. "I miss my baby."

"And one of us has a broken heart.' I smiled despite myself "Gosh, this is so beautiful. I miss my man."

My gaze drifted to the dresser, to the framed picture sitting there like it belonged. Elijah, in the frame, sat relaxed, confident, and devastatingly fine. He'd known exactly what he was doing when he posed like that. I had hundreds more—little moments captured and kept, all tucked away like treasures.

"Now and then I call your name," I sang, stepping closer, pointing the curlers at the picture like he could hear me.

"And suddenly your face appears.".

I grabbed the picture with my other hand as I tunred drmatically—and froze.

Now, tell me who I saw just standing at the door, just cheesing, I mean, all 32 just showing.

"AHHH!" I yelped, dropping straight to the floor and covering my head. Why? I'm not sure, but it was the safest position I could think of before I registered who it was.

"Elijah!" I looked up, clutching my chest. "Why didn't you say anything? I scrambled to my feet, getting up and ready to leave.

"I was enjoying my lil show." He said, blocking my path to the bathroom. HE took the curlers from my hand and set them down on the vanity "I love having my own little singer." He smiled.

"Well you scared your little personal singer," I said trying—and failing—to sound annoyed.

"You were beautiful though," He replied easily. His hands found my waist, slow and familiar. " Didn't want to mess up your tempo. "He continued, smiling as he spoke "I loved the way you hit those notes mama. Got my skin all jumpy and jittery." he swayed his body, trying to convey whatever jumpy and jittery meant.

"Well, no more singer," I laughed, shaking my head.

"But I was hoping for Whitney," He said mock-disappointment"

"omygosh how long were you there, stalker?" I punched his chest.

"You expect me to count seconds when I'm looking at you?" He said, leaning his head down to give me a kiss. "I didn't even mean to walk in, you just...be calling to me," he mumbles, under his breath giving me another kiss.

"Oh, wow. Little lover boy, you're just dropping lines on me like that." I laughed, leaning my head back.

"What? You don't like it like that?" He asked, grinning against my cheek as I blushed.

"Can I have a little bit of space? I feel a little vulnerable right now", I said, looking down at the fact that I only had my undergarments on. "That's how you're supposed to feel," He said, even softer placing a kiss on my forehead.

"Sooo..no date is what you're saying?" I wrapped my arms around his neck, closing our distance even more.

"Nah, mama get ready. You want me downstairs or up here with you?" He asked like he didn't know the answer or something.

"I thought I be calling you— now you want to be downstairs. "I looked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know I come when you call. His hand squeezed my waist. "Now, you want me downstairs or up here with you?" He repeated. My heart kicked loudly.

"Right there," I pointed to the edge of the bed, closest to the vanity, just so I could touch him if I wanted to.

He looked at the spot and chuckled before he let go. "Alright. We leave in an hour," He mumbled, leaning in again.

"Elijah— if you don't " I turned away just in time

Now I know better than to turn away from a kiss, but I've got good reason, and we don't have enough time. He paused, "What was that?" he said, pulling his neck back.

"You said an hour, right?!" I looked back at him to see a stilled face.

All the laughing, smiling, and chuckling went out the window just like that

"Chile.." I shook my head as I puckered my lips for him to reach mine. "That's better," he murmured, immediately meeting me there

"That's all I wanted, mama," He said finally pulling away, "Go ahead now." He gave me one more peck for good luck and a slap on the bottom.

I watched as he stepped back up and easily settled himself into the spot I'd chosen for him. stretching out like he belonged there—which he always does.

I sat returned to the vanity, only to realize my music had stopped for some reason. "You want to listen to some music, baby?" I asked him through the vanity as I plugged my curler back in.

"I want you to keep singing to me," He said, that wide, dangerous smile spreading slowly.

I grinned, rummaging through my makeup drawer for mascara and blush. "Alexa, resume," I announced, grabbing them from the back corner.

Pretty darling.... have a heart. Don't let one mistake keep us apart.

Luther's voice filled the room again, smooth and aching, and my body responded before I could even think, swaying back and forth in the chair.

"Baby, is it cold or a little warm?" I asked, swiping into my blush to apply it.

"Its a little chilly mama, I got something in the car if you don't want to bring a jacket.

"I'm not meant to live alone, turn this house into a home."

I smiled at my reflections as he leaned his head on his shoulder, watching me—not casually, noy starting into space. Just watching like I was the most interesting part of this room. Since he got here, I have heard his phone go off probably 10 times, and he hasn't looked at it once.

"Depends on what I'm wearing," I shrugged titling my head, putting another swipe on my left cheek and nose.

"Blue, red, or brown?" I asked as I looked at his outfit. It was mostly gray and black, so a lot could go with it, but what the night was calling for is the question.

He glaned down at this himself, tugging lightly at his bottom lip before he pouted a little. See, we love a man who actually thinks about it. Warms my heart.

"I'm pretty neutral, so either brown or black."

"That's what I was thinking" I nodded "The restaurant gives off that grown and dark vibe" I added.

"You gonna put em on for me?" Like I'll ever say no.

"Saying that you're still in love with me, yeah..... I'm not meant to live alone, turn this house into a home."

"You know I will" I agreed, picking up the curler since it's hot enough to finish.

"You need some help pinning them mama?' he asked before I could even think about that.

Oh— thank you" I turned back towards him," I forgot all about that".

He stood, sliding off his jacket as he stepped over to me. "Careful not to get anything on your shirt. Everything's at the cleaners".

"I wont".

"Oh, please be there still in love. I said still in love," .

I sang lightly as I casually wrapped the hair around the rod, slow and careful, my movements matching the softness in my chest.

"Still in love...with me".

" I continued lightly swaying as Elijah rolled the curl up gently, hands steady, close enough that I could feel his warmth without him directly touching me

"Are you gonna be in love with me"...

I unraveled the curl from the rod and pinned it

"Can you hand me some more mama?" He spoke, nodding towards the silver clips in the container.

"Thank you baby" I said again as I gave him the clips. He responded with a kiss to the crown of my head, lingering

"I want you and need you to be, yeah....

Still in love"

I grabbed the next sections of hair as the lyrics flowed from my lips"with mee..." I glanced up at the mirror to see him concentrating on a curl

"I am, baby," he whispered loud enough for me to hear. Heat rushed up mt neck. I covered my mouth because this is embarrassing. "Stop, you're making me feel shy."

He grinned lifting his eyes, smiling like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Are you gonna be in love with me?" Elijah's voice joined mine on the next line —low, rough and unexpectedly tender—as he finished pinning the last curl.

"I want you and need you to be"

My breath caught.

He brought his face down to mine, first kissing my cheek, then finishing the lyrics in my ear softly.

I pulled the curler from my hair as I leaned to the side from his breath tickling my neck. "I am," I laughed as I did the same thing he did.

"Still in love with me," he finished, giving me one last kiss before standing up to pin the curl I just released.

So this was what he meant by jumpy and jittery.

"What's so funny?" he asked as I grabbed the last section, placing it around the curler.

I looked up, trying not to show him that he was getting to me, but that didn't help because he stayed with a grin on his face, which caused me to have a big grin plastered on my face, but #notashamed.

"You look beautiful baby" He said softly.

He stared at me again. Elijah has this thing—I'm still not sure what it is yet— where he can stare at me all, and he prefers it when I stare back. I'd told him once that it reminds me of cats—slow blinking and silent affection. Only Elijah wasn't a kitten. He was more like a lion.

"Elijah," I laughed, "You're doing it again,".

"Doing what?" he asked, slipping a loose piece of hair back.

"Staring."" I pinched my finger together. "Just a little bit".

"You love it though," he insisted not showing one care to stop.

"I do," I admitted, touching the hair to see if it's hot enough to release, "But its distracting."

"Why?" He asked and dared to actually look confused.

I opened the clamp, releasing the curl, and pinned it. "When I'm touching all over you, don't you say that it's distracting and to wait until you're done doing your tasks?" I asked, turning towards him.

He nodded his head and grabbed my chin gently, lifting it up as he came close for a kiss. "But that's touching, I'm just looking."

"And sometimes looking can be distracting too for me," I said, trying to stand up, but Elijah stood directly over me.

"Elijah, can I please get up?" I asked, stifling a laugh as he looked between us, noticing that there was zero space, and then he finally moved a few inches.

"You wanna be there in an hour, right?" I asked, getting up from the chair and pushing it back into the vanity space. He honestly looked troubled when I said that, but he finally backed off, sitting back in his position on the bed.

"Yeah" He sighed. "An hour"

I shook my head and turned towards my closest area. finger grazing hangers as thought out loud. "What are you thinking—dress, two-piece.... or throw something together?"

"I want a dress," he said easily.

I slid open another compartment that held most of my dresses. The really fancy ones I kept at Elijah's house for extra room.

"Mhmm...okay. I got something new, I got my twenty-seventh birthday, and I got last year's brunch," I listed off the outfits, glancing back for his reaction.

He looked up with the same thoughtful expression as earlier, "What's last year's brunch, and let me see the new one?"

I pulled the brunch and the new dress out like he told me, but my eyes landed on the other one.

"Wait... what about the twenty-seventh birthday?" I asked feeling a little sad. I mean—anyone would if you only wore that dress once.

"I know that dress, and only I'm going to know that dress," Elijah said, lifting his eyebrow, like he already knew what was in my head. Elijah bought it for me, but we were literally alone the whole day, so really none saw the dress but him.

I rolled my eyes and tossed the new dress aside to first put on the brunch one.

"It may look simple, but its really cute when it's put on, it gives me a princess Disney body line, the cha-cha sits just right, and the back? Stright up sexy,," I told Elijah like I was warning him.

"Can you help me? "I turned my back so he could zip me up.

"You like?" I smoothed out the faint fabric folds from it being in the closet for a while.

"Why haven't I seen this one before? "He murmured, wrapping both hands around my waist, looking fascinated by the corset.

"Exactly no waist, I bit my lip as his hands held me.

"You playing too much," He let out a small smile. "I like this. You look pretty and delicate," His hands slid down the fabric like he was tracing it into memory.

"I want this one, "He nodded, backing up. "But I haven't even tried on the new one?" I pointed, trying to grab it.

"I like this though," He said, gently turning me away from the dress on the bed like he was moving me away from temptation.

"Elijah..."

"Mhmm," He hummed as he continued to examine the dress, as if it were something so complex and regal. "You really like this?"

"What shoes? He asked, "I'm thinking black as well," he answered his own question, making me laugh at his taste. At least he knows what he wants.

"Toe or no toe?" I teased, getting up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. It's been too long without one. "Not toe. Where's the one with the bow on it?" he insisted.

"The front or back one?'

"The back one," he spoke without a stutter. I love when my man dresses me—it makes me feel so... taken care of.

I went to the closet. I knew exactly where the shoes were: left side, third compartment. Perfect as ever.

I handed them to him and sat on the bed. He patted his thigh for me to place my foot there.

At first, doing this felt wrong, because if he ever asked me to put his shoes on? And then put his feet on me? Oh, it would not end well. But he's been insisting for years, and now—three years later—I’m used to it. And he’s secretly proud of that.

'Aren't they pretty? ' He spoke, finishing the first strap.

"I know, I couldn't believe you remembered I wanted them."

“Nah, I’m talking about this.” He lowered one of my legs gently to the bed frame, lifted the other, and dragged his fingers slowly from my calf to my toes, pressing softly on my sole.

“See, now I know you’re up to something. You don’t even like feet.” I tried to pull back, but he held firm.

“Wrong. I love your feet,” he said, putting on the second heel and letting my leg go.

He took both of my hands and pulled me to my fee, eyes traveling up the extra height my heels gave me.

"I like it. Make me want to kiss you." He grinned childish and sweet, "As if you haven't been doing it already. "

"I know, but now they're right here, I can just-" he emphasized the difference in my height by only leaning forward instead of bending down like he normally does.

"You just overly tall, I'm a cool 5'7, maybe a 5'8 on a good day." I moved sideways to check his choices...and I have to admit, he did good.

"You like too?," he moved closer, wrapping his arms around me. "Yeah, you want to help me take the pins out?' I asked, reaching for the first one.

"Mhmm...I'll be careful this time," he assured me.

About two weeks ago, I asked Elijah to take the pins out of my wig that I wanted to take pictures of, and when I got back upstairs, the whole back was just a mess. I knew better than to ask that again, though.

I chuckled at the memory while I scanned my outfit for more ideas.

"Silver or gold? And what jacket? Maybe the fur?..

"I like gold. You already got the earrings. And the trenchcoat—the longer one," He responded, like he was waiting for me to ask this. "You are just perfect," I huffed, shaking my head playfully as he did the same.

"This one stuck." He pushed the curl towards me to finish taking it out. "How long you wanna stay out mama?" he asked, grabbing another clip, unpinning the curl with ease.

I pushed my lips together, thinking about tomorrow. “Umm… I don’t think I have any content due tomorrow, so no rush to come back. Why?”

“We’re not just going to the jazz club? Is that why your picking out my outfit.?

"You remember that museum you wanted to see?" He halfway asked, grabbing one more curl as I did the same

“I remember,” I said, biting my lip to keep from smiling too hard.

“Well… it’s closed tonight—”

“You get on my nerves,” I cut him off, huffing.

He laughed as my response, "Nah, but I'm just asking because Stack and em said they wanted to catch some drinks too later..."

“Oh, that’s fine. I haven’t seen Stack in a while. Where he been?”

“Anywhere he can make money,” Elijah shrugged, removing the last curl. “There you go, mama,” he said, raking the curls gently like I taught him.

"OK, now jewelry.." I pointed to the open jewelry box Elijah bought me years ago. "Can you pick it for me?" I asked, sitting back down on the bed.

"I can choose or you already though of something you wanted to wear?"

"Not really, just pick something to match my earrings and I want bangles."

"Really! You don't want the tennis?" He asked, almost shocked at my choice.

"Oh a girl can be different and creative," I defended myself

Elijah walked back over with a necklace and bangles giving me them to put on myself, as he wrapped the necklace around my neck to clasp

"Alright, now almost ready....what's next?— Perfume" I walked over to the small space in between my sunglasses and wallets, picking, of course, my go-to 'Miss Dior'.

"Am I missing anything, baby?" I asked, setting the perfume back down. "You want to bring a purse or something?" He suggested

"I don't know...maybe a clutch or a little handbag.. I questioned myself going over the side that held most of my purses— all the big ones stayed at Elijah's house.

"I got this little baby—I presented a classic black YSL clutch and this baby—I grabbed my new tabby coach bag." I dangled them in front waiting for him to choose one

"I like the YSL," he picked as he put back on his jacket. "Ok, now that's done... what's next?"

"Baby, I think you got everything," He said, grabbing my coat next and sliding it on me, as I put my arms through.

"You think so?" I frowned, really not wanting to forget anything

"Phone—he dropped it in the clutch

Hand cream—into the clutch

"Lip stuff, he pointed.

"That's what it was," I realized. Adding my lip liner, blistex lip gloss mascara and blush.

"ID and driver's license?" He said, pointing to them sitting on the vanity slightly underneath the makeup bag

"Ok, everything checks out," I clap my hands, ready to go now.

"You sure? We got a lot to do tonight," He said, joining my hand that I put out for him to grab. "We're only going to see stack."

Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Cursing, Killing, Trauma

Next: Ⅱ , Ⅲ

Synopsis: Pearline is blunt, self‑assured, and quietly guarded, rooted in the Mississippi Delta and certain she knows exactly what she wants as she moves between town life and the farmland beyond it. Stack, a cowboy with a smooth mouth and steady confidence, carries himself like someone shaped by long days, family ties, and a world that doesn’t slow down for anyone. What grows between them isn’t rushed or dramatic—it unfolds in lingering conversations, restrained attraction, and the tension between what’s said and what’s felt. In a place where the past has a long memory, Pearline and Stack find themselves choosing patience, intention, and a love that builds slowly—but deeply.

“I really don’t want to,” I said, folding my arms, not caring much for whatever Kelly was about to say next.

“That’s a strong phrase, don’t you think? It is your job, Ms. May.” She shrugged, clearly not picking up what I’d been laying down for the past ten minutes.

“It’s strong because I mean it. I’ve never seen another teacher asked to do this. Yet here I am—especially when I just got back from surgery. I don’t like this. At all.”

“It’s only for a week. The transfer is coming in soon. She had a few complications with her flight, one thing led to another, and honestly, it’s something we couldn’t have avoided.”

“You keep saying that,” I said, “but I’m not hearing what I'll gain from it. And don’t say experience—I’ve got enough of that already.”

Kelly sighed and leaned back in her chair, probably cursing me out internally, but that wasn’t my problem.

“I understand, you’re one of the few senior teachers we still have here—”

I cut in. Not to be rude, but to be clear. "And the fact that I've only been here seven years. That shouldn’t qualify anyone as senior.”

Things were going downhill fast, and I didn’t plan on being around long enough to watch the place crumble. If I left, I wanted my record clean—commendable. Not attached to a school that shut down because of bad management.

“…Yeah,” Kelly said finally. “Okay. I understand. I’ll see you Monday.”

I nodded, not wasting time trying to soften the blow. I already had a life. Responsibilities stacked high enough as it was.

“Alright, Kelly. Take it easy,” I said, lifting a hand as I closed her door.

“Mhm. They asked you to?” Brianna asked, sitting right outside the office.

“You eavesdropping?” I asked, half‑serious.

She rolled her eyes, sipping tea from her tumbler. “What, I’m supposed to walk past the door like I don’t got ears?” she shook her head as if I said the unreasonable thing.

“Can't do that, The school done got so quiet I almost started caring about ninth‑grader drama. It’s a shame they can’t keep any new teachers.”

“—School been out. You really stayed just to hear us?” I continued.

“Yes, girl. How many times you gone ask? And I’m glad I did. Kelly had me thinking I was the only one capable for the job.”

“Please,” I said. “They trying to find anyone. And didn’t even mention a pay increase, now that I think about it. She touched on more experience, breaks, parking spaces yet the most important thing—" I paused looking over at Brianna as our eyes met.

“Where the fuck the money at?” we said together, laughing.

“Nah, I’m serious,” I said. “You talking thirty‑nine kids instead of sixteen? I need to see the coin increase.” I slapped my palm.

“Maybe they’ll give your ass fifty cents for being a good sport,” Brianna scoffed, turning into her classroom.

“But don’t act like that ain’t twenty‑five cents more than the other schools in the district offering,” I shot back.

Deciding to be a teacher halfway through my sophomore year hadn’t been hard. I knew it was what I wanted—needed—to do. But lately, questions kept popping up. Was this job really as self‑sufficient as I thought it was a few years ago?

“I’m trying to retire at fifty,” I said, dropping into the plastic chair beside her. “But I’m struggling just trying to keep something in my Roth IRA. I’m not giving up teaching—but sooner or later, I’m definitely giving up this place.” I pointed around.

“You want real money?” Brianna said, pointing north. “You know exactly where to go. Them prestigious schools—white folks, black folks pretending to be white folks. Go on ahead. With that résumé, they’ll hand you a little hefty bag.”

“As much as I wish,” I said, shaking my head, “one summer up there killed that dream. Everything felt off.”

“That was your first experience—and that was five years ago. Try again. Or at least visit the schools that already sent you offers.”

“You talking big now,” I said. “I do want a new school. But that means everything else would be new too. I like Jackson. It’s home.”

“No,” Brianna said. “Clarksdale home to you. You already migrated once. Going up a couple states wouldn’t be that bad. Yeah, you’ll feel homesick—but every choice got its pros and cons.”

She opened her top drawer and pulled out a stack of drawings.

“Ain’t this a damn shame,” she said. “Told them kids to draw what they wanna be, and Tommy put himself in a bowl of cereal.”

I smiled, standing. “Tommy a good kid. Just got a big imagination.”

“I see that—and I see it all over the desks. I’m not bringing him in another desk if he keeps drawing on em.”

I chuckled, because if anyone had a soft spot for their kids, it was Brianna, no matter the attitude she gave.

“Alright, I’ll see you Sunday,” I said. “You still coming over, right?”

“Hell yeah I’m coming over,” she said, looking at me crazy. “I ain’t seen no new episodes of Love Island. We binging.”

“This problem would be solved if you just bought it.”

“And waste my money? I ain’t getting paid like you, good sis. Give me a few more years.”

I shook my head as I stepped out.

“Love you,” she shouted before I got too far.

“Love you too.”

Pearline walked into her loft apartment, grateful for the fact that she finally was going to be able to rest in her own bed. Work had been draining. Bills had been draining. Even her little boy toy had been draining—and it didn’t seem like any of it planned on letting up soon.

She dropped her bag by the door along with her shoes and sweater, rubbing her eyes as sleep crept in. That after‑school nap was calling her name, but there were things that still needed to be done.

Grading. Calling her mother. Dinner.

Realistically, grading was the only thing getting touched.

Her phone buzzed.

She sighed, then answered, putting it on speaker, filling the small space as she pulled her laptop from her bag.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby. How was work?” Her mother’s familiar voice filled the small apartment.

“It was good, ma’am. I just walked through the door. You okay?”

“Could be better...I got a favor to ask baby"

"Why you should like that?" Pearline became suspicious slowing her movement

"Things haven't been so peachy lately. Your daddy was having trouble breathing. I took him to the clinic, and they said the cancer back.”

“What you mean, Mama? Daddy just texted me last week saying he was doing fine.”

“You know your daddy,” she said softly. “And I don’t know when it came back or if we caught it in time. He probably been coughing long before I noticed.”

“If you calling to ask me to come down—yeah. I’ll come. No problem. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“That’s sweet of you, baby,” her mother said. “But I just need your help with the bills. The money is in the usual spot. I need you to drop it off.”

Pearline sat quietly, a hundred thoughts stacking up at once. How long had he been sick? How bad was it if her mama couldn’t leave his side?

"Anyway, I'm in the city and have been for a few weeks—where you want me to meet you" Pearline asked, already racing towards the door to put her shows back on

“No—stay where you are, you come tomorrow. If your daddy wanted you here right now, he wouldn’t have fibbed. And if anything changes, I’ll call. Promise.”

“How are you going to tell me to not come after you done said daddy back in treatment? That ain't fair mama”

“If it didn’t take this long, you wouldn’t have known at all. Me and your daddy know what we are doing. Get some rest. Call me when you head out.”

The line went dead.

“I feel like I’m raising my parents,” Pearline muttered, already opening her messages to text Brianna the update.

plans are cancelled. mama just called me and said I need to go back home. Daddy back in the hospital

he ok? didn't you just say pops was doing good.

i thought so too, but mama said he's back in treatment and has been for a while now. They didn't even want to tell me. I only know now 'cause they got to pay rent. smh

i'm sure he'll be fine, if they didn't tell you then everything must be going accordingly then.

Yeah I hope so, but they shouldn't have told me nothing now, I'm gone be calling everyday

I would too, what they going on, 62?

yea, but ill talk you later, if I get done early you can still probably come over and binge.

safe travels.

If I go now I can leave early in the morning.

Pearline considered it, looking out her window, the sun only now starting to soften. The thoughts wrestled with her — whether that nap was really that important, or if she can just make that two- something hour drive and get it out the way.

Not much time passed before she checked the time one more time and headed for the door, not giving her mind the rest it very much needed.

She moved with a purpose, trying to seem as busy as possible, because if she was home from work then the kids were definitely outside playing by now— and it was no time to be playing hopscotch with them.

Pearline went down the side steps of the brick-layered apartment and beelined straight for her car. She glanced over just in time to see a group of elementary kids turning their heads at the sound of the engine starting. It was no hope though— they all very well recognized that deep purple car that Pearline drove.

A little girl named April was the first to run after her, coming close to knock on the window that she barely stood taller then.

"Hey, Ms. May, where you going?" April asked, curiously placing her hands on the door and pulling herself up as Pearline rolled the window down.

"Hey! I thought we was gone play cops and robbers" another little girl, Onya, called out, her voice slightly pouty.

"First I got to head on out to the country for a while" Pearline said "And second, little miss— you said that not me. I'm sure Kaila and Noah won't mind playing with you" she nodded her heads towards the other kids who had already gone back to playing.

"That not fair. Today's Friday though" Onya said now fully pouting.

"Exactly," Pearline replied, a little firmer now. "So instead of getting sad you better gone head and play while your momma still let you" .

Onya huffed, crossing her amrs and slowly stepped away from the car.

"She ain't take her nap yet, and she missed lunch" April added glancing back at Onya, who now leaned against the red car parked next to them. "I told her she was gonna be fussy".

"I see" Pearline said, eyeing Onya "But gone on and let me leave. I'll be back some time tomorrow".

"You gone make it to church? I'm performing remember?" April reminded her, and Pearline finally smiled for the first time since getting home.

"Of course, I remember" she said. "I just hope I can come back in time to see it. And if I don't, have you mama send some pictures in— it'll be great for the memory wall in the classroom" Pearline suggested.

"Aww...alright, I guess" April saddened letting herself down as she loosened her grip on the car door. "Come on Onya—i got some more cuties in my lunch box.

As both girls skipped away. She finally backed the car out, pulling from the parking lot and beginning her drive.

Pearline lowered her window as she crossed over the county line, the scenery shifting almost immediately. Up ahead, a blue sign came into view—WELCOME TO CLEVELAND, MISSISSIPPI.

The white letters were a little sun‑faded, like they’d been there longer than most people stayed. The road stayed straight and flat, stretching forward, bordered by open fields and low trees just starting to change color this time of year.

The town eased into view slowly. A gas station on the right, only one truck at the pump. A billboard she’d passed plenty of times before, peeling at the corners.

The pavement changed just slightly, rougher, like it had been patched too many times. It was almost routine for Pearline, but she couldn't put her finger on it that something was different, and she definitely couldn't tell whether it was good or bad.

As she drove farther in, the buildings began to cluster—brick storefronts, a feed store, a diner that looked stuck in the ’80s, a couple of hand‑built houses, and a wood‑filled compound just off the road. She’d driven this street plenty of times, even recognized the dog sitting in front of one of the houses, like it was waiting on its owner to come back.

A red light stopped her, and she finally checked the time. 7:21 p.m.

Her body begged for sleep, but her stomach had other plans. It growled loud enough to make her groan as the light turned green and she pressed the gas.

She glanced back at the diner she’d just passed, considering lowering her standards for the night. Cooking was no longer in the plans.

Pearline stared at the dinner in her rearview mirror, before ultimately deciding to turn. She used the close by gas station to quickly turn and get on the other side of the street and being even quicker at entering the parking lot.

The engine shut off. She stepped out and walked toward the dimly lit diner. To her surprise, it was mildly packed—farmers at the group tables, a family by the window, and four teenage girls in the back laughing hard enough to shake the booth.

She scanned for a single seat and settled into one tucked in the corner. The menu didn’t impress her much—breakfast, meatloaf and potatoes, fried chicken, hamburger steak—but she scanned again anyway.

A tall young waitress came over with a service smile, her accent thick and slow, dipped in molasses.

“Evenin’. What can I get for you, ma’am?”.

Pearline smiled. “Hi. Can I get the catfish plate with hushpuppies and collard greens?”.

“No problem. You want somethin’ to drink with that?”.

“Just water and lemon.”.

"I got that coming right up, pretty lady" the young girl beamed, grabbed the menu as Pearline held it out.

As she walked away, Pearline turned toward the window, not really watching anything but taking it all in. A relieved sigh left her lips.

Truth was, she’d been scared. That phone call had put her on edge the entire drive, but now that she was here—only twenty minutes out instead of two or three hours—her shoulders relaxed.

Her gaze landed on the dog across the street, leaning against the building. It looked tired. Not hurt. Just worn down.

“Here you go, ma’am. If you need more lemon, just holler.” The waitress set the water and lemons down before grabbing a straw from her apron pocket. “Food’ll be right up.”

Pearline thanked her, sending her off and squeezed the lemons into her glass, but her eyes drifted back to the dog.

Th dinner had a soft hum to it— the customers, children laughing and the sound of a working kitchen— but the doorbell cut in sharply, unconsciously making her turn her head to see who it was that entered.

From where Pearline sat—A tall man stepped inside wearing denim jeans, cowboy boots, and an unbuttoned shirt. She nodded her head, not getting to see his face but in appreciation for his build. It wasn't hard to tell if a man did labor or not for work— He was no different.

“Evenin’,” he said, easy, to no one in particular, making a cook that could be seen through the window turn around

“Well I’ll be damned—Stack, you back already?” Larry laughed from the kitchen window. “We ain’t got no steak right now. Daniel runnin’ into town tryin’ to figure out that shipment.”

"Where— Jackson?" Stack asked spinning the chair around as he took his hat off for manners. That movement gave Pearline a clearer look.

She took a sip of water, visually studying him—Brown skin. A dimple that showed effortlessly when he spoke. A clean beard running along his cheek and chin. One look wasn’t enough.

“Yep. Found a real good deal, too—charg’n ’bout two‑thirds of what Mr. Lake was askin’.”

“Ain’t surprised, Stack said “That man stubborn as hell. Almost beat Smoke at somethin’ once.” He laughed. She smiled with him.

"Almost." Larry agreed.

“Where that hardheaded brother of yours at, anyway?”

“Had some business down in Coahoma County. Said an investigation gettin’ started. Ain’t tell me much, though.”

“Betcha its 'bout that young boy. It's a damn shame what happened to him” Larry said, shaking his head.

“Yeah. Folks talkin’ ’bout puttin’ together a memorial down by the county line. You comin’?”

“Wish I could. Gotta stay open late all month.”

The bell rang as a plate was set down.

The young lady dashed from the back upon hearing the bill, grabbing the plate. "Evening, Bug" The man greeted jokingly, "Aint hear you back der"

Pearline straightened as she snapped out of her staring, turning back toward the window just as the dog disappeared from view.

“I was finishin’ some homework,” the young waitress said, hands on her hips. “But I heard you. Anyone ever told you that your awfully loud sir?” Bug spoke bluntly, pushing open the swinging doors that reached her waist.

"I can't help it" He shrugged following Bug as she reached the table Pearline sat at.

"How you do on your phys—his voice became small as he watched the food get delivered to an unfamiliar yet beautiful face.

"Here you are. Enjoy" She spook placing the platter down in front along with her wrapped utensils.

Stack became struck, but 'managed' to pull away once Bug began walking over to him.

"Which exam?" she asked.

"Umm...I don't kn—umm your Physics. How did ya physic exam go?" He cleared his throat, trying his best to keep his eyes off the beauty that sat, breaking off pieces of catfish but his eyes drifted nonetheless.

“Still waitin’ on scores,” she said. “But I did better than last time. Thermodynamics easier to understand for me than macroscopics movement.” She paused, then side‑eyed him. “You gonna listen, or you gonna keep starin’ at her?”

Stack cleared his throat. “Who is she? I don't think I've seen her before"

“No clue. Drove in from somewhere, though—that purple Lexus hers.” Bug raised her chin in the direction

“Figured she ain’t from 'round here.”

"Why so curious?" Bug teased "She puurrtty? She exaggerated her words poking at his arm.

“Prettiest girl I seen in a minute,” he said, easy.

Bug let out a small scoff before placing her weight back on both feet to turn away and head behind the counter

"You gonna order somethin' or you just coming for the scenery" Bug asked hitting a button on the register

"I'm ok" He shook his head at Bug, once again catching a glimpse at the girl that sat near the window.

"You know— she sholl do look kind of familiar though" Bug said bending down. "For the love of God, I just can't put my finger on it"

"Don't stare now, it's rude" he said swiping at her arm

"Crazy for you to say" She huffed leaving to go in the back'

"Alright, Larry. It's bout time to head out. I'll see you later?" He asked picking back up his hat. "If yur coming to the rodeo, yeah" Larry replied.

"You betting?"

"No can do, old lady almost tore me a new one last time she found the ticket" Larry shook his head hurriedly.

Stack laughed, stealing one more glance from Pearline before heading outside..

Pearline, eyes drafted from her plate up to the door, too late to catch the handsome man stares, so instead she followed him with her eyes as he walked across the parking lot.

He came close to a dark—not sure what color—truck. It stood tall, looked real manly. He climbed inside, setting himself up before starting the engine.

She didn’t know if the windows were tinted, but even if they weren’t. In Pearline's eyes there wasn’t any harm in looking

She watched the car light come on, momentarily gleaming at her as he turned out of the parking lot onto the street.

She turned back towards her plate— no longer feeling hunger and opted to get a to go plate but the best parts were long gone so she decided against it. Scanning for the waitress, but finding no one, she just grabbed a twenty- and ten-dollar bill, hoping that covered everything and plus a tip.

Pearline got up and swiftly left the dinner, promptly now only thinking about a bed.

The drive lasted less than twenty minutes from the diner to her parents’ house.

Pearline unlocked the door and finally stepped inside, looking around even in the darkness, getting the sense that the house hadn’t heard a laugh or felt warmth in a while.

She wondered just how long her parents had actually been at the hospital.

She reached for the light by the front entrance, turning it on as she took off her shoes. The bulb buzzed and flickered before finally settling, lighting up a small patch of walking space. Using that light, she made her way down the hallway and pushed open the bathroom door, the small light inside already on but dim.

Pearline stepped in and wasted no time turning on the shower.

A bath would’ve been a dangerous choice—she felt far too close to closing her eyes right there. She checked the water, letting it warm to the temperature she liked, and while it did, she went to her bedroom.

Opening the drawers, she pulled out undergarments and a sleeping dress that had been left there one day. Next, she gathered her hair, bending forward to pull it into a quick bun. Opting out of a scarf, she headed back toward the bathroom, stopping only to grab a towel from the linen closet.

She brushed the bathroom door open and stripped, freeing her body from the clothes that only added weight to what she carried that day. Steam fogged the room, giving Pearline a sense of lightness as the water coated her skin, soft, involuntary moans slipping from her lips and filling the space.

A moment of peace followed.

A small, fragile moment of happiness.

A/N: Here is my second official series. After this I probably won't make any new ones until there at least 15 chapters in both, but I do have a little idea of a medieval one with both the twins and maybe paring with a princess or a Dutchess. Still in the planning area right now.