#sinners cast

Smoke comes into town, ready to settle down. He bought a house in a quaint, rural area of the delta. A three bedroom house fit for him and his old lady, the two of them were as happy as could be. He met her in Chicago and she came with him back down to the delta, arm in arm.

You hadn’t seen smoke in years, seven approximately. The only reason you kept track was because of the daily reminder that he left behind—Layla. You found out you were pregnant shortly after smoke ended things. The last argument between you two still rings in your ears. You yelling, him cussing, the tears falling and your heart breaking a way it never had before.

You two had a complicated relationship, always making your way back to eachother— but not that time. He slammed the door and didn’t look back. You accepted it, no matter how hard it broke you— even after you found out you were pregnant. You made everyone swear to keep it a secret, even Annie and Mary. They knew how things were and understood your reasoning.

Once he left, you fought to keep him out of your mind. He didn’t deserve a space there, you had more important things to worry about and if he ever cared then he would come back to you— at least that’s what you thought.

Layla seldom asks about her daddy and if she did, you were always stumped on what to tell her. She looks just like him, he couldn’t deny her— even if he wanted to.

You and Layla have a simple life, nothing too fancy— just something fit for both of you. Your routine consisted of the same thing— wake up, eat, clean, work on things you had to do, play with Layla, dinner and bedtime. The only time it changed was if you went to the store or to someone’s house. Other than that, it is very mundane and considered boring to most.

Today, was like any ordinary day. You sat outside on the porch, shucking corn and Layla running around the yard.

“Layla, please be careful!” You yell as she gets the edge of the yard.

“Yes, mama” Layla laughs, running around in the yard chasing butterflies.

While shucking you realize that you need a few last minute things from the store, so you grab Layla and make your way to Bo’s store.

Layla stands outside the store, playing with some kids—while you go inside. You push the door open and the bell jingles above you, you grab a basket and start your shopping. Bo sees you and waves, he doesn’t speak like he usually does and he has a funny look on his face. You wave back, not putting much thought into it.

You bend down near one of the shelves looking for pickled garlic and can’t seem to find it. You read over everything on the shelf multiple times and just as you’re about to give up, you see a hand in your face holding the garlic— a deep voice to go along with it.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

You take the jar and turn around smiling.

“Thank yo—“

You stop in your tracks, almost forgetting what you were even saying. Smoke is standing behind you, eyeing you. You’re unsure of what to say, a million things racing through your mind. Your hand shakes while holding the jar, your nerves completely wrecked from seeing him. Before you can say anything, a woman walks over to smoke— wrapping her arm around him.

“Honey, you ready to go?” She asks.

He taps her hand, not looking at her— still keeping his focus on you.

“Just give me, one minute. I’ll meet you at the car.”

She smiles and walks out of the door to car, glancing back to see what was going on.

“How are—“

“Who’s she?” You point, interrupting smoke.

He stands there, almost like he’s debating on how to answer you.

“She’s my fiancé, Robyn”

You feel a piece of your heart die off when he uttered those words.

“Congratulations—“

“I have to go, it was nice seeing you.” You say in a rush.

Smoke grabs your arm.

“Wait, now just hold on.”

But before the conversation can continue Layla runs in wrapping her arms around your waist.

“It’s hot outside mama.”

Smoke lets go of you and just stares.

You don’t even bother buying your items, you just sit the basket on the ground and rush out of the door. You grab Layla’s hand and start walking down the sidewalk, hoping that this wouldn’t turn into something.

Smoke is chasing behind you.

“Woman, stop right now.” He demands with a southern drawl.

Smoke approaches both of you and you bend down talking to Layla.

“Cover your ears and sing your song for mama, okay?”

She nods and starts loudly singing a blues song she heard.

Smoke points at Layla with a pissed look on his face.

“Is she mine?”

Your lip quivers and you let out a sigh, not responding.

“Is that little girl mine!?”

You shake your head yes.

Smoke steps back from you, covering his mouth. You feel awful when you see the look on his face, you hurt him.

You hold back tears.

“I’m sorry..”

“Sorry? I have a baby girl and you don’t even tell me. All you can say is sorry?”

Robyn starts approaching the two of you.

“Is everything okay?”

He nods, grabbing her hand to walk away.

You grab Layla’s hand and continue to walk home, you feel like you’ve messed up big time.

You get home, feed Layla, clean her up and get her to bed. You could’ve never imagined that your day would go like this, that smoke would be back in your life. Opening up a chapter that you worked so hard to seal and keep closed.

More than anything you are worried for Layla, not that smoke wouldn’t be a good father— but a father and step-mother all in a day? It’s a lot to take in. She also has auntie Mary and her uncle Stack. You won’t keep her from his side of the family, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about splitting time with smoke.

You light a candle and sit down in a chair, sipping on some of the corn liquor you had stashed. You never knew when you would drink it, but now was the perfect time. You gulp down most of it, just to take the edge off.

You hear footsteps on the porch, you don’t even bother getting up to check— you know it’s Elijah.

You go open the door and see him leaning against the wooden railing.

“So, why didn’t you say anything?” He immediately questions you.

You pick at your nails, looking down.

“You left, Elijah. You were done and I couldn’t change that. I didn’t want to ruin things for you.” You stammered.

He lets out a huge sigh.

“My child could never ruin things for me.”

His statement gives you a slither of comfort, knowing that Layla will always be in good hands.

He starts to pace the porch, smoking a cigarette.

“Who does she think her father is?” He hissed.

You shrug, feeling ashamed.

“She doesn’t ask often, but if she did then we would change topics.” You reply.

“Does she know any of our family?” He questions.

“Yes, of course. She knows her Aunt Annie and her Aunt Mary, she’s met Sammie, Cornbread and Slim gave her a harmonica.”

His brows furrow, he does not like what you said.

“The fuck!— they knew about her?!?” He shouts, exhaling smoke.

You put your hand out, trying to calm him down.

“Before you start getting in everybody’s ass over this, it was my decision. I told them and they respected it, be mad at me.”

He hesitates to ask, worried about your response.

“Did stack know?”

You immediately shake your head, reassuring him.

“No. I never told him, I wouldn’t do that to you and Mary swore to me that she wouldn’t say anything.”

He stomps out his cigarette and looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

“You should’ve told me.” He mumbles as he walks off the porch, getting into his car and driving off.

You wake up bright and early the next morning, getting Layla ready for the day. She hates when she has to get her hair done, so you normally bribe her and say that you’ll make pancakes. She doesn’t know that it’s an excuse, because you also want pancakes.

Today, she has on a yellow dress— with a white ribbon around the waist, two pigtails and white sandals. You can’t help but smile at her, she’s the best part of you. Mary bought the dress for her a while ago, but she had to grow some more before it fit properly.

She squirms in her seat, humming as she eats her pancakes, sausage and eggs. You pour her another glass of orange juice and set it down on the table. She hasn’t even met smoke and she has mannerisms like him, you gave birth to her— but she’s every part of him.

There’s a faint knock at the door, Layla paying no attention to it and devouring her food. You get up and make your way to the door, opening it. Smoke is standing there with a bouquet of daisies in his hand. You wipe your hands on your apron, taking in how good he still looks.

“Goodmornin.” He nods.

“Mornin.”

You stand there in the doorway, fidgeting with your cross necklace.

“Can I meet her?”

You nod yes. You would’ve liked a warning, but you knew smoke would just show up and ask.

“Just give me a minute.”

You walk over to the table and get Laylas attention, wiping the syrup from around her mouth.

“I want you meet someone.”

Layla grabs your hand as you lead her to the door.

Smoke’s face lights up when he sees her, he bends down— handing her the flowers.

“These are for you.”

Layla grabs them and giggles, still holding your hand.

“This is your father” you say to Layla, feeling weird that those words even came out of your mouth.

You’re worried about Layla’s reaction or if she’ll understand.

Layla drops your hand and runs to hug smoke, wrapping her arms around him.

“Papa!”

He picks her up and holds her close, tears in his eyes. You feel so awful for denying him this for years, you should’ve told him.

He is meant to be a father.

You watch as smoke walks around the yard with her, already a pro at it. It was like Layla knew he was her dad all along, she doesn’t question it at all. Normally, getting her to talk to someone she doesn’t know is like pulling teeth— but she’s immediately talking his ear off.

Smoke is outside with Layla all day. He’s given her multiple piggy- back rides, she’s had him singing her favorite song, she’s asked him a million different questions and they’ve played hide and seek.

You made dinner while they played outside— smothered pork chops, rice, green beans and bread. When smoke finally comes in with Layla, she’s passed out. The girl is exhausted, sleeping in his arms and drooling on his shirt.

“Where’s her room?” He asks.

You point to the bedroom on the left as you set a plate for him on the table.

He takes her into her room and tucks her in, leaving her door cracked open.

“I made you a plate, in case you were hungry.” You suggest.

“Thank you.” He replies, as he sits at the table with you.

“It smells good and looks even better.”

You were too busy eating, not paying attention.

“What?”

Smoke stares at you, looking you up and down. Almost like he wants to say something else.

“The food.”

“Oh, thank you. It’s nothing special, really.” You grin.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You question him, drinking your lemonade.

“Don’t put yourself down, even if it’s just your cooking.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that it would ruffle your feathers. It’s just how I talk.” You acknowledge.

Smoke gets up taking his plate to the sink.

“You’re just too good of a woman to be talking like that. I don’t like it.”

A silence lingers after he says that. A silence on both sides. Your heart flutters in your chest like it did the day you met him, he’s the only man you’ve ever truly loved— but that ship has sailed.

Smoke sits back down at the table.

“So, what will you tell Robyn?” You ask, fidgeting with your fork.

He stares at you blankly.

“I’ll tell her that I have a daughter. Nothing else to say.”

“Elijah, how well do you think that’s going to go?—“

“I don’t know her, but I figure that she didn’t accept your proposal thinking that you would have a child pop up.” You remind him.

“Hm.” He replies back, more of a grunt than a reply.

“You seeing anybody?” He pries, changing the subject.

You let out a chuckle.

“No, there isn’t anyone around here that I want.” You respond.

“There still isn’t?” He asks.

You grin and walk your plate over to the sink, trying not to let what he’s saying take root in you.

“I want stack to meet her.” He announces, leaning back in the chair.

You clean your plate in the sink, your back turned to smoke.

“That’s fine.”

“Tomorrow? Maybe we can have dinner again.” He suggests.

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine with me.”

You set the plate down in the sink and wipe your hands with a rag.

Smoke approaches you and gives you a hug, which you didn’t expect at all. You hug him back.

“Thank you for letting me meet her.”

“You don’t have to thank me. She’s your daughter too.”

The hug lasts too long, like he doesn’t want to let you go.

You pull away, trying not to make it more obvious what’s going on. You walk smoke to the door and watch him get in his car and back out of the driveway.

You lay in your bed and all you can think about is him, wondering if he felt the same way about you. You’re no longer angry about him leaving, but sad at what things could’ve been— what he missed out on.

All day, Layla has asked about “papa”— she’s only been away from him several hours and misses him tremendously. You tried to keep her busy as you prepare dinner, letting her know that papa was coming back— but she wasn’t having it. Just as you finish cooking, there was a knock at the door.

Layla screams, face soaking wet from tears and following right behind you.

“I want papa.”

You open the door and without paying attention, she runs right into stacks arms.

“Papa..” she sobs.

“Oh, my.” Stack laughs

We all laugh, she pays no attention to smoke for the first few minutes. Smoke hands you the flowers he brought and shakes his head.

They get inside and stack is still holding her, she’s calmed down now. She plays with his mustache and you can tell that’s he’s not used to this. She notices smoke standing to the side and looks at stack, then looks at smoke again— she’s completely confused.

Stack grins, fixing her dress.

“I’m your uncle stack.”

She starts pouting and the tears start coming, she holds her hands out for smoke and goes into his arms.

“Papa’s here.” Smoke reassures Layla, rubbing her back.

You shake your head.

They sit down at the table, you fix everyone’s plates then sit down yourself.

Layla hums while eating, completely in her own world.

“So, that’s my niece?” Stack asks, chuckling like he can’t believe it.

“In the flesh.” You respond.

“She’s adorable.”

“That she is.” Smoke responds, leaning over and wiping Layla’s mouth.

You hesitate, but decide to ask anyway.

“Did you tell Robyn?”

Stack and smoke glance at each other, stack sips his lemonade.

“No, I ended things with her.” Smoke answers.

You look up from your plate, shocked.

“You what?” You gasp.

“It wasn’t gonna work.”

You sit there, not sure what to make of that.

Layla finishes some of her food and starts rubbing her eyes.

“Papa, I’m tired.”

Smoke moves her plate and scoots back in his chair.

There’s car headlights beaming through the window and someone laying on the horn, all of you look at each other concerned. Smoke waves you over to grab Layla, they both jump up— hands on their guns and open the door to see what’s going on.

They open the door and it’s Robyn, she’s hysterical. Stack sucks his teeth and glances at smoke.

“I followed you—“

“Wondering what’s got you acting so funny and what do I know, you end up at some whores house.”

Stack chimes in.

“Robyn, sweetheart, you need to leave.”

“Shut the fuck up, Stack!” She rages.

You hold Layla in your arms hoping that she would be still and fall asleep, but all the commotion keeps her awake. She starts squirming out of your arms, running to smoke.

She wraps her arms around smokes leg, hiding.

Robyn sees her and sees you approach behind him. She clutches her chest.

“You had a bastard child, is that why you left?” She laughs.

“Excuse me?” You respond, pissed off at that comment.

Stack grabs Layla, picking her up and walking back into the house.

Smoke points his finger, running off the porch towards Robyn. He’s angry.

“Don’t you ever speak about a child of mine that way.” He corrects her with an extremely southern drawl.

Smoke grabs Robyn’s arm, bringing her to the drivers side of the car and they have a heated conversation. You couldn’t hear what was said, but she was leaving crying harder than when she came.

Stack walks beside you.

“She fell asleep, I tucked her in.”

You turn and hug him.

“Thank you.”

He nods, with a grin as usual.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll do anything for my niece and for you.”

Smoke comes back on the porch, looking at you and looking for Layla. You point inside the house, whispering.

“She’s asleep.”

Y’all walk in the house and you wrap their plates for them to take with them. Stack hugs you again, before heading out to the car.

You hand Elijah his plate as he stares at you.

“Please bring my plate back.” You giggle.

“I will.”

He hugs you, kissing you on the forehead. You pull back and your eyes meet each others, staring for too long. He leans in kissing you, the kiss was something you had craved for so long. He sets his plate on the table and wraps his arm around your waist. The kiss is long, passionate and well overdue.

You pull away, before things get too far. You just aren’t sure that you two are meant to be together.

You stand there not sure what to say and he doesn’t say anything. He grabs his plate, nods, and leaves out the door.

Dinner didn’t go the way you planned, but it ended on a better note than you could’ve expected.

You lay in bed, tossing and turning. Mind going millions of miles per hour, memories flooding back, old feelings rising up. Elijah ended his engagement for you, he’d do anything for you. Maybe some part of you is still struggling to accept that things can work.

In the middle of you thinking about that, you hear a tap at your window. You jump up, startled. It’s the middle of the night, who could be showing up? You see Elijah standing there in the rain, you run to the front door—opening it.

“Elijah, what—“

He walks past you into the house, interrupting your question.

“I can’t stop thinking about ya. I love you and I can’t stand here pretending that I don’t. I never did stop loving you. We started a family and I want us to do this together. I don’t want you to move on or find someone else.”

You stare at him, your heart beating fast. This was all you needed to hear.

You kiss him, like you’re scared you would lose him again.

He looks into your eyes, holding your face.

“I can’t go through life without you. I can’t.”

You melt all over again, tears in your eyes.

He kisses your neck, slow and passionate. Your hand on the back of his head, leaning against the kitchen table.

You move from the table and guide him to your bedroom, he slams the door behind him as y’all stumble in.

“Sorry.” He grins.

Y’all fall on the bed, trying not to laugh.

He pulls down the sleeves of your nightgown. Staring at you, completely topless and nipples hard. A sight he always loved.

He sucks on your neck and moves his hand, swirling his finger around your nipple. Moving his head downwards, leaving kisses.

He licks your nipples teasing you, then putting it in his mouth on one as his fingers swirl the other.

You loosen his belt, completely pulling it off. Trying hard to stay focused, but what he’s doing feels so good.

He stops focusing on you and unbuttons his pants, you pull your nightgown off.

His dick hard, harder than you’ve ever seen. You bite your lip, ready for him to take you. He rubs his hands over your body, taking in a sight that he hadn’t seen in years.

“You know what to do.” He groans

You move into the center of the bed, bending over and completely arching your back. He comes behind you, smacks your ass and lines himself up. He runs his tip along your entrance, making you bury your head into your pillow to hide your moans.

He pushes the tip in and slowly pushes the rest in, inch by inch.

“Elijah.” You gasp.

“Shit.” Smoke mutters.

He grabs your hips and starts slowly thrusting in and out of you with long and slow strokes, making you remember every inch of him. You can feel your pussy stretching, trying to get used to him again.

Once you’re used to it after the first few strokes, he starts fucking you the way like.

He slaps your ass, watching it bounce back on his dick.

“Oh, I missed you.” He groans.

“Don’t stop.” You moan.

His fingers rub your shoulder.

“Can I?” He asks.

You nod your head.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and starts fucking the shit out of you. He loves pulling your hair and fucking you like this.

“Smoke, fuck.” You moan, barely able to form a sentence.

You start clenching around him, he’s hitting the right spot.

“That’s it sweetheart, you cum for me.” He demanded, the southern accent coming out during this.

“Fuck yes!”

“Oh.”

You do exactly as he demanded and cum all over his dick, the orgasm feels never ending. His breaths become short and quick.

“Shit, mama.”

“I’m gonna—“

He thrusts one last time into you, ropes of his cum fill you. He lets go of your hair and you both stay in that position, trying to catch your breath.

He slowly pulls out of you and collapses on the bed beside you, pulling you closer to him.

He looks at you, pushing your hair out of your face.

“I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you like that again. I already know that you’re going to ask.” He reassures you.

A smile comes across your face, because that is exactly what you were thinking.

You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and hearing him breathe. You don’t have to look after a few minutes because you can tell he’s asleep.

You close your eyes to get some sleep as well before Layla wakes up.

6 months later..

Your relationship with Elijah has continued to blossom ever since that night he came to you. He said he wouldn’t leave and he didn’t, he moved you into his house and put your name on the deed.

You two made the jump and got married two months after you rekindled things. You can’t imagine your life without him, now that he’s back in it.

All of your friends and family were there at the wedding. Slim was the officiant for the wedding, stack bribed him with some beer from Chicago. Cornbread and Therise, with their son Jacob. Mary and stack were there— Mary helped you get dressed despite being exhausted due to the pregnancy. Sammie and Unlce Jed, who lectured stack on his scheming ways. Bo and Grace chow, helping with the food. Annie, being your maid of honor. Layla being spoiled by the family and being a flower girl, she had to be convinced by Mary to do it . It was truly one of the best days of your life.

Layla is a full on daddies girl, practically attached to smoke. He is wrapped around her finger and just seeing him with her, makes you want to give him more babies.

This was the life you dreamed of. Your heart is full beyond words and you are happy.

March 15, 2026

Michael noticed how quiet it was when he opened his eyes. The kind of silence that let his thoughts run wherever they wanted. And his mind had been running all night.

He had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, all these thoughts crept in. What if he didn’t win, what if he did, what was he supposed to say, how was he supposed to act, how would this change things, how it wouldn’t. It all blurred together until sleep felt pointless.

By the time the sun started coming up, he had given up on trying. So he decided to move around. That had always been his thing. When his head got loud, his body had to get louder.

He lifted weights first, thinking that the hard and fast reps would help exhaust the thoughts out of him. When that didn’t do it, he went for a run. The cold morning air hit his chest and his breathing evened out just enough to trick himself into thinking he was calming down.

And when that didn’t last, he came back, wrapped his hands, and hit the bag for a while. The steady rhythm of fists against leather echoed through the room, grounding him for a second, then it didn't. Because nothing stuck long enough.

Somehow he ended up in the kitchen when he wasn’t even hungry. He cooked something simple to keep his hands busy. He barely touched it once it was done.

Now he stood in his bathroom, the space warm from the steam he’d already started, staring at himself in the mirror. His jaw flexed slightly. His eyes looked far more tired than he wanted to admit. He exhaled, dragging a hand down his face.

This was supposed to be a good day. And it was going to be. He knew that. It was his first nomination and everything he had worked for lined up for this one night. People would kill to be in his position. So why did it feel like this?

His gaze dropped to the counter, where his phone sat. He stared at it for a second longer than he needed to. Then he reached for it.

It wasn’t even a real thought process. It was instinct at this point. When his head got like this, he went to her.

His thumb moved quickly over the screen, pulling up her name. He hesitated for half a second, then typed.

what you doing?

He tossed the phone back onto the counter like it didn’t matter, like he wasn’t about to sit there waiting for it to light up. He turned slightly, reaching to adjust the water, letting the heat build.

It didn’t even take that long for the screen to light up.

He glanced at it immediately.

I just woke up. Why?

He huffed out a quiet breath through his nose, a slight smile pulling at his mouth despite himself. Of course she was just waking up.

His fingers moved again.

how long will it take you to get ready today?

This time he didn’t put the phone down right away. He leaned back against the counter, arms folding loosely as he waited. Her response came a minute later.

3 hours at least. Why?

He nodded to himself. Three hours sounded about right. His thumb hovered over the screen for a second before he typed again.

what time you starting?

He knew he was asking a lot of questions. He knew she knew he was asking a lot of questions.

10:30. Again…why?

That made him let out a small breath that almost turned into a laugh. He could hear her saying it in that tone. And the side-eye that would’ve come with it if she were standing in front of him.

He rubbed his thumb along the edge of the phone, thinking for a second.

you eating before?

This time, the response didn’t come right away.

He pushed off the counter starting to pace a little as the restless energy still sat under his skin. The water kept running behind him, steam starting to fill the room more fully now. His phone buzzed again. He picked it up.

Are you okay?

His shoulders stilled, his pacing cut off mid-step as he looked down at the screen, reading it again like maybe it would say something different the second time. It was a simple four words, but they felt heavy.

His jaw tightened slightly, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he looked away from the phone for a second.

Was he okay? He exhaled slowly, running a hand over the back of his neck. Everything said he should’ve been, but his chest felt tight. His mind still wouldn’t slow down. There was this pressure sitting on him, not unbearable, but constant.

And of course she knew.

That was the thing about Wunmi. He could try to play it cool and keep it light, but she read right through it every time. It didn’t matter if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks or if they’d been in the same room all day. She saw through him.

He looked back down at his phone. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second longer this time. He thought about telling the truth. Actually saying; yeah, I’m nervous and my head’s all over the place. With her, he could. But something in him instinctively pulled back, instinctively.

So instead, he typed:

i’m good.

He stared at the message for a second before hitting send. Even as it went through, he knew it wasn’t all the way true.

The restlessness came back twice as strong and texting wasn’t enough for him. Before he could overthink it, he hit her name and brought the phone up to his ear. He started pacing the bathroom again as it rang. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer.

He pulled the phone away, frowning slightly at the screen. He knew she had just been up. She had literally just texted him back. So what was she doing?

He waited a few seconds, like that would make a difference, then hit video call. It rang longer this time, but still nothing.

His jaw flexed, impatience began to mix with that anxious energy he had sitting in his chest. He exhaled sharply and dropped his head back for a second before looking at the phone again.

“C’mon,” he muttered under his breath.

He shot off another text.

answer the phone please.

The second it sent, he hit video call again, not even giving her time to respond. He stood there, watching it ring, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, free hand resting on the counter.

It rang and rang and just when he was about to hang up, the screen connected.

The lighting was low and her room still dark. She was laid up in bed with her hair wrapped, face soft with sleep, and eyes barely open as she adjusted the phone slightly.

Michael’s whole demeanor changed immediately. He propped his phone up against the counter, angling it so she could see him clearly. A small smile pulled at his mouth.

“There you go,” he said, voice lighter.

She didn’t say anything she just blinked slowly at the screen, clearly still waking up. Her expression was a mix between confusion and mild annoyance.

He shook his head a little amused, then reached for the hem of his shirt.

“What time you tryna get to the hotel?” he asked casually.

She let out a quiet sigh, shifting slightly under the covers. “Around ten,” she murmured, voice rough with sleep.

He hummed in response, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it off to the side.

“You know, I been up for a few hours,” he added, almost like an afterthought.

Her brows pulled together slightly, eyes opening a bit more as she focused on the screen. “Why?” she asked, squinting like she was trying to read him.

He shrugged one shoulder, reaching for the waistband of his shorts. “I think I’m a little anxious,” he admitted, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

He pushed his shorts down his legs, stepping out of them, then glanced back at the screen. There was a small shift in his expression as a smirk creeped in.

“I can’t wait to see what you wearing tonight though,” he said.

She didn’t even entertain it.

“You can wait,” she shot back, barely lifting her head up but choosing to sink it deeper into the pillow.

That made him laugh, the sound filling the bathroom as he stood there now in just his boxer briefs and socks.

He straightened slightly, flexing his arms without even thinking about it, turning just enough toward the camera.

“You like what you see?” he asked, playful, knowing exactly what he was doing.

She let out a tired little laugh, not even opening her eyes fully this time. “Michael, please…” she mumbled, dragging his name out before letting her head turn slightly on the pillow.

He watched her for a second and shook his head. She looked like she was about to fall back asleep.

“Aye, wake up,” he called, reaching down to pull his socks off, then hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs.

She rolled her eyes, opening them again just in time to catch him stepping out of them.

“Really?” she muttered, not even sounding surprised.

He grinned, completely unbothered, then grabbed his phone off the counter.

“Don’t go back to sleep,” he said as he walked toward the shower with steam thick in the air.

He stepped inside, adjusting the angle of the phone carefully. He set it somewhere stable where he could still see her and she could still see him.

Water hit his skin, and he let out a quiet breath, tipping his head back for a second before looking back at the screen. She was watching him with her half-closed eyes. And at the sight of her, his chest felt a little less tight.

He tried to keep her up with him. As the water ran over him, Michael kept glancing back at the phone, checking to make sure she was still looking at him.

“Aye,” he called lightly over the sound of the water, running a hand over his face. “You up?”

There was a pause.

“…mhm,” she murmured, barely audible, her voice heavy, like she was falling back asleep even as she spoke.

He smiled to himself, shaking his head a little as he reached for the body wash. “You not even up for real,” he said, amused.

She didn’t argue or respond that time.

He decided to talk about random things, making little comments about the day like how long it was about to be and how he already knew he was going to be tired of people before the night even really started.

She’d hum here and there, giving him a quiet “yeah” or “mm” to let him know she heard him. Until she stopped completely. It took him a minute to notice.

He rinsed off, pushing the water out of his face before blinking it away and looking toward the phone again. She hadn’t moved at all. Her head was turned slightly into the pillow, and her breathing had evened out. She was asleep for real now.

Michael’s expression softened as he realized it.

He leaned a little closer to the phone, resting his hand against the tile as he looked at her. A small smile pulled at his mouth. He didn’t want to hang up, so he didn't. He liked having her there, even if they weren't talking. It settled something in him.

He finished up, turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and dried himself off slowly, still glancing back at the phone every now and then because he didn’t want to lose sight of her.

But now with her asleep, his mind started back up again. Thinking about how the night would go and the expectations that would come because of it. He cleared his throat, like he could shake the thoughts loose, then wrapped the towel around his waist and walked back into the bedroom.

He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on, letting them sit low on his hips, not bothering with a shirt yet. He wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

Most of the cast had gotten rooms at the same hotel that was closer to the venue. It was easier this way because it meant less running around.

He still had a lot time. A little too much time, honestly. Which meant he had more room for thinking.

So he got back to moving again.

He went to the kitchen and set the phone up against something on the counter, angling it just enough so he could see her. Then he started pulling small and quick things out.

He wanted to make something that wasn't going to be too complicated and was practically a snack. Especially after he cooked and didn't much of it earlier. He cooked on autopilot, the quiet clink of utensils filling the space. Every now and then he’d glance over to check on her.

Once everything was done, he plated it. Then leaned his hip against the counter as he ate a few bites, eyes flicking between his food and the screen. When he checked the time, his brows pulled together slightly. She needed to be up now. He wiped his hands off, stepping closer to the phone, picking it up carefully.

“Aye,” he called softly.

No response.

He tilted his head a little, watching her.

“Wunmi,” he tried again, voice gentle. “Wake up, Mama.”

She barely shifted, a soft sound leaving her like she was fighting it.

“You said you gotta get there by 10:00,” he reminded her quietly. “C’mon, you gotta get up. It's almost 9.”

It took her a minute, but Wunmi finally came to. Her face shifted, brows pulling slightly as she blinked herself fully awake. She adjusted the phone in her hand as she pushed herself up against the headboard.

“Okay, I’m up,” she muttered.

Michael leaned back against the counter, his plate long forgotten.

“Yeah, I see,” he said while smiling.

From that point on, they continued staying on the phone. He moved around his place while she moved around hers. She propped her phone up while she brushed her teeth and went back and forth between her closet and bathroom. She was pulling things out and putting things back. She spent most of the time talking to herself about her choices, and he listened.

She didn't have much to pack herself as most of her outfits were picked by her stylist. Michael made comments about what she picked, and teased her when she held up different options.

Made comments here and there. Teased her when she held up two options and clearly already knew which one she was going to pick.

“You not wearing that,” he said, squinting at the screen.

She sucked her teeth lightly, already turning back to the mirror. “Good thing I didn’t ask you.”

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head, but he didn’t miss the small smile that pulled at her lips in the reflection.

By the time she was fully dressed, the room around her was brighter and the energy was completely different from when she first answered. Michael had shifted from the kitchen to his living area. She moved with purpose now, grabbing her things and checking herself one last time before stepping away from the mirror.

She looked down when her phone buzzed.

“My car’s here.”

Michael nodded slightly, watching as she started gathering her bags. His eyes narrowed just a little as he noticed a particular bag in the group.

“What you doing with that?” he asked.

She didn’t even look at him, she just picked it up like it was any other bag.

“I needed something to put my stuff in,” she said, casually.

His smirk deepened.

“Why you taking that bag, though,” he replied. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

He had gotten her that bag as a gift. He saw it and knew she would like it, so he bought it. It had turned into her overnight bag for when she came to visit him.

She finally looked at the phone then, rolling her eyes as she grabbed it.

“It’s just a bag, Michael,” she said, sounding annoyed. “Relax.”

He just watched her with that same knowing look sitting on his face.

“Mm,” he hummed deciding not to push it further.

She shook her head slightly while heading toward the door, balancing her things as she moved.

“I’ll see you later. I'm about to get in the car,” she said, adjusting the phone in her hand as she stepped out.

There was a small pause on his end like he wanted to say something else, maybe stop her, but instead he just kept quiet.

“Okay,” he said softly.

It almost sounded like he didn’t want to hang up and she caught it immediately. Her expression softened as she stepped outside, the daylight hitting her beautifully.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” she told him steadily and sure.

He looked at her for a second. Then nodded, a hesitant smile coming through.

“Yeah, you're right,” he said.

“Bye,” he added after a beat.

“Bye,” she replied.

The call ended and the screen went dark. And just like that, the quiet came back, it didn’t feel nearly as heavy as it had earlier.

She slid into the car, pulling the door shut behind her, her bag settling beside her as the driver pulled off.

Wunmi's hotel room was filled with controlled chaos. Racks were being rolled in and out while people moved with a purpose.

Now, a few hours later, she was settled in her chair, a silk robe wrapped around her, legs crossed comfortably as her team moved around her.

Her hairstylist stood behind her, hands working steadily as they parted and smoothed her hair. She was working on getting the hair slicked down before starting the braids. They were going for two long, thick braided ponytails stacked vertically, one above the other. Big gold hoops and medallions covered the length of the braids. It was going to be perfect with the dress.

Her eyes flicked over to it hanging on the rack across the room, untouched. Just looking at it made something flutter in her chest.

She looked away just as quickly.

“You're starting to overthink again,” her stylist teased lightly.

Wunmi let out a soft laugh. “I can't help it,” she admitted, shaking her head slightly.

“Mm-hmm, I can tell,” her makeup artist chimed in, stepping closer. “We not doing that today though.”

“Exactly. This is your moment,” someone else added from across the room.

Wunmi smiled at that, her hands resting loosely in her lap as she let them work.

The room instantly filled with random conversation. She added her own comments here and there, her voice soft and her accent slipping through naturally with every word.

On the outside, she looked calm, but underneath it all she was a ball of nerves. Because in truth, she never expected this.

Awards season was a whirlwind of interviews, screenings, and conversations that she never thought she’d be part of. Rooms filled with people she’d admired for years now speaking to her like she was one of them. And tonight was the absolute peak of it.

She was truly taking it all in, because more than anything, she felt grateful. Grateful to be there. Grateful for the film and the way it had been received. She was grateful for the doors it had opened without her even realizing they were there to begin with. And she felt proud of not just herself, but of him.

Her lips pressed together for a second, a small smile forming before she could stop it.

She had watched it all happen. From being on set where they worked long days and he worked overtime to figure things out to the press tour where she learned so much about how much work he actually put in to now.

She’d said it publicly more times than she could count about how proud she was of him, how much she believed in him, and how none of this surprised her. But she’d said it privately too. Far too many times to count.

Her hairstylist stepped back, checking the braids before continuing to add more gold pieces to the already heavy style.

“You excited?” someone asked from the corner of the room.

Wunmi blinked, coming back fully, then smiled.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said, softly but sure.

Time kept moving and her hair was finally finished. Her hairstylist moved her fingers down each braid, making sure that everything secure and was placed just right. Wunmi sat still, occasionally tilting her head when asked.

At the same time, her makeup artist had started working. Every now and then, she’d glance at the mirror to see her face coming together.

Her hair had taken a little over an hour. Her makeup had taken a bit longer, closer to another hour and a half.

“Okay, look at me,” her makeup artist said softly, stepping back.

Wunmi opened her eyes fully, looking at herself in the mirror.

Her hairstylist let out a quiet “yeah,” while reaching for her phone. “We need content, right now.”

The makeup artist laughed, grabbing her phone too.

Wunmi shook her head, smiling as they both circled her, snapping pictures, taking short videos, telling her to turn her head, look up, look down.

She let them have it, before standing up slowly from the chair. The weight of her hair became more noticeable as the two braids fell down her back, brushing against the top of her butt when she straightened fully.

She adjusted her robe only to feel her phone buzz in her hand. She glanced down at it absentmindedly at first, but the second look made her focus in. It was Michael.

can I come by before I get ready?

Her brows lifted as she stared at the message.

No. I don’t want to be late for the carpet.

Her phone started ringing almost immediately. She sighed under her breath, stepping away from the group.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, slipping toward the bathroom.

She closed the door behind her and answered the video call. The camera connected, and there he was sitting in the back of a car, dressed down, sunlight cutting through the window beside him.

Wunmi didn’t give him much to look at. She set the phone down on the counter, angled just enough so the ceiling was in frame, but not her.

Michael frowned instantly.

“The hell? Why I can't see you,” he said, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m not ready yet.”

He sucked his teeth, shaking his head. “I need to see your face.”

She didn’t even look at the phone. “No.”

“Wunmi—”

“No means no, Michael,” she repeated, a little firmer.

There was a pause on his end.

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, leaning back in his seat.

She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it.

“You’re going to be late if you don’t go get dressed,” she said, glancing at the time.

“I’ll be alright,” he replied like it wasn’t a concern at all.

She shook her head slightly, already moving toward the door. “I really gotta go.”

Another short pause.

“Okay,” he said.

And then, a soft “I love you.” slipped out without him thinking too much about it.

They didn’t say it all the time, but it was never a surprise when one of them did say it.

She leaned her hip against the counter, letting out a small breath before responding.

“I love you too.”

It came out easy for her too. Even though she knew what this really was. She knew there were other women and other situations, but something about what they had was so honest yet complicated. They coudln't help but to love each other.

“I’ll see you later,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” he replied.

The call ended.

Wunmi looked at the phone before picking it up, unlocking the door, and stepping back into the room. When she stepped back in, all eyes were on her.

“There she is,” her stylist said, moving toward the rack where the dress hung.

Carefully, they took it down and out of the bag. It was a gorgeous black and gold, kaftan-inspired dress that was tailore to perfection. There was enough structure to give it form while still allowing it to flow. The fabric moved when they lifted it the light caught on the gold detailing that was threaded throughout.

Wunmi stepped forward, letting them carefully guide her into it, trying to be mindful of her hair and makeup. Once the dress was on, it settled on her beautifully.

There was a deep V in the front dipped so low, it showed a good amount of her large chest. The gold detailing that traced along the neckline, drew attention exactly where it needed to. The back mirrored the front with another deep cut that exposed the smooth skin of her back.

Her stylist walked up to her with a small bottle of shimmering body oil in her hand. Hands began to lightly oil her down in all of her exposed areas. The oil caught the light, giving her skin a soft glow like she was lit from within.

Then she put on her signature fragrance, spraying just enough that everyone around her could smell her.

Her stylist helped her step into her heels, adjusting the straps. They made her walk a few steps in them to see is the dress moved how it was supposed to. And it did.

Everyone immediately began to take pictures and videos of her in her complete look. They gathered her things quickly after that.

“The car’s here,” someone called out.

Wunmi grabbed what she needed, adjusting the front of her dress once more before heading toward the door, her team close behind her.

They guided her carefully with one person slightly ahead and another behind, making sure the dress didn’t drag and that nothing caught.

When they got outside, the car was waiting by the curb.

“Watch your step,” someone said softly, opening the door for her.

She reached out, placing her hand in theirs as she lifted the dress slightly, preparing to step in, and that’s when she saw him.

Michael's team was surrounding him, trying to get him inside so he could start getting ready, but he wasn't paying them any attention. His eyes had found Wunmi in the small bustle of moving people and it felt like time stood still.

“Mike, come on,” someone from his team said, trying to usher him forward.

He barely reacted. His gaze dragged over her slowly taking in the hair and the way the dress fell on her. His brows lifted slightly in surprise and appreciation.

“Damn…” he muttered under his breath.

Wunmi caught the look on his face. And as she fully stepped into the car, their eyes met. Her smile turned into more of a playful smirk. She gave him a quick wink, then slid into her seat and the door closed behind her.

Michael stood there for a second longer than he needed to, the moment lingering even after the car pulled off.

“You good?” someone nudged him.

He blinked, like he was snapping back into his body.

“Yeah,” he said, but his tone was distracted.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he reached for it like he already knew. When he opened the message, he couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face.

Good luck babe 😉❤️.

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. He locked his phone and slid it back into his pocket, the smirk still sitting there as he finally let his team guide him inside. He didn’t text back.

“Alright, let’s go, let’s go,” someone said, walking ahead of him.

He followed, but there was a sharpness in his energy like he was completely restless.

They got to his room and instantly got to work. Garment bags were opened, his shoes were set out, his jewelry laid across the table. Someone yelled for time checks so they would all be aware. He could barely sit down good before hands were on him.

Wunmi leaned back into the seat of the car, one hand resting lightly against her lap to keep the dress in place while the other held her phone loosely.

There was a bit of traffic ahead of them. It made everything stretched out and take more time than it should. The car would move, stop, move again, then stop.

Every now and then, her thumb tapped her phone screen awake to check the time…and once or twice to see if he had responded.

He hadn’t, but she didn't take it a certain way. She knew he was getting ready and people were probably rushing him along.

By the time they pulled up to the venue, it was close to 2:30.

The door opened, and there was a lot of noise and camera flashes. It was a mix of voices yelling names, shouting directions, and moving people out of the way.

Her team moved quickly, stepping out first, then helping her from the car.

“Watch your step… okay. Beautiful.”

The second her heels hit the ground, she turned it on. Her posture straightened and a genuine sweet smile graced her face. She adjusted the front of her dress before stepping forward onto the carpet. The cameras immediately lit up at her entrance.

“Wunmi! Over here!”

“This way! Right here!”

She moved naturally, like she’d done this before, even though part of her still felt like she didn't fit.

With every turn, the gold in her hair caught the light exactly how it was setup to. The dress flowed when she stepped, the sheer of the fabric catching just as much.

“Can we get a turn?”

She angled slightly, letting them get the back, the deep cut showing her skin, the shimmer on her skin glowing under the flashes.

After a few more stops, her team gently guided her toward the end where the interviews were set up.

“Wunmi, how are you feeling tonight?” one interviewer asked.

She smiled, grounding herself before answering.

“Good. Really good,” she said with her accent slipping through. “I’m just taking it all in, honestly.”

“What does it mean to be here?”

She let out a small breath, glancing down for a second before looking back up.

“It means everything,” she admitted. “I didn’t expect all of this. So I’m just really grateful.”

They asked about the film and her castmates. And every time his name came up, she looked proud.

“Michael's worked really hard for this. I'm really proud of him,” she said at one point.

They wrapped her up after a few minutes and let her move along. From stepping onto the carpet to finishing interviews, it had only taken about twenty minutes. But it didn’t feel like it. Time seemed to blur together at this point.

Inside the theater the lights were soft as people were finding their seats and greeting each other. Wunmi was guided to her seat, adjusting her dress as she sat.

There was still about an hour before the show would actually start.

She crossed her legs slightly, hands resting in her lap before reaching for her phone again. The screen lit up and still no new messages, so she checked time.

She was quietly hoping that he wouldn't be late.

Michael had been in his suite long enough that he should be dressed and ready to go.

He sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, phone in his hands, staring at nothing in particular. The TV was on low in the background, but he wasn’t really listening.

“Mike, we gotta get you ready,” one of his stylists called from across the room.

“I know,” he said automatically, but he didn’t get up.

His chest felt tight again. His face was calm and posture relaxed, but internally, it felt like he was holding his breath and couldn’t fully let it out. He rubbed his hands together once, slow, then stood up.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

They unzipped his garment bag, and pulled his suit out. His team laid out his David Yurman jewelry pieces that he had to shoot content for.

“We still got to do that video while you change,” someone reminded him while setting up a phone on a tripod.

He nodded, rolling his shoulders back. “Yeah, let’s get it.”

He spent the video putting on jewelry, making everything looked right on his skin. He was basically going through the motions at this point. His mind kept drifting back to Wunmi. He couldn't wait to see her up close. He really wanted to call her because his thoughts were running wild, and her voice would just soothe him. It had worked well that morning.

Now, the closer it got to showtime, the worse that feeling in his chest got. And he knew she’d calm it. His hand twitched slightly, like he might reach for his phone right then, but he didn’t.

“Alright, we got everything. You can change,” someone said, stepping back.

He exhaled quietly, nodding, then moved toward the suit. He put everything on piece by piece. His hands fixed things as he moved, smoothing out anything that didn't sit right on him.

His family moved around the room too, getting themselves together.

“You look good, baby,” his mom said, stepping closer to adjust something near his collar.

He gave her a small smile. “Thank you.”

“You ready to go?” someone else asked.

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t fully true, but he was as ready as he was going to be.

“Car’s downstairs,” his team called out.

They grabbed what they needed, did one last check, then started heading out of the suite.

In the hallway it felt like everything was closing in as they moved toward the elevator. Michael stayed mostly quiet while conversations happened around him. His mind wouldn't stop moving.

They got downstairs to the sprinter that was waiting on the curb. His family piled in first, then him, then his tea. He slid into his seat, leaning back slightly as the door shut behind them.

He let his head rest back against the seat as the van took off, eyes drifting closed for just a moment before opening again.

The sprinter pulled up to the theater, and everything was loud and chaotic. Cameras were flashing nonstop and people were moving around like crazy.

Michael straightened in his seat, running his hands down the front of his suit to ground himself before stepping out.

The door slid open and he stepped out to a wave of people yelling and screaming for him. From paparazzi to interviewers to fans. It was a competition of who could get his attention first.

His team moved him toward the carpet, keeping things tight. They didn’t have time to waste.

He hit his marks quickly. He did a few solo shots. The rapid flashes hit him from every angle possible. For the next few shots, his family joined him. Everyone had warm and excited smiles on their faces. The moment stretched on until they were being ushered further down.

“Alright, we gotta go,” someone from his team reminded him.

He nodded and stepped forward.

As they got closer to the section where press and fans blurred together, the volume went up to another level. People were yelling his nameincredibly loud now. Fans were leaning over the barricade with their phones out, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

He briefly lifted his hand to acknowledge them, but he didn’t slow down much. He couldn't, he was already pushing for time. His team tightened around him, trying to firmly get him inside.

“Michael!”

The voice cut through just enough to catch his attention.

He instinctively glanced over to see one of the interviewers beckoning him over. She was someone he'd interviewed with a few times before. He actually liked her, and she always remained respectful and professional while keeping things fun. She was waving to him to catch him before he passed her by completely.

He hesitated for half a second, then broke away from the group around him.

“Hey,” he said quickly, stepping over to her and pulling her into a brief hug.

“Hi! You look amazing,” she said while smiling.

“Thank you,” he replied, already starting to step back.

But before he could fully pull away, she lifted the mic slightly.

“How are you feeling tonight?”

“I'm just grateful and happy to here,” he said simply.

And then he was gone. His team was pulling him back in, steering him in the direction of the doors.

When he got inside, he instantly started to scan the room. People were buzzing around him, barely able to sit still, but he wasn't really seeing any of that. He was looking for her. And it didn't take long. Once they got closer to his section, he was able to spot her almost immediately.

She was seated a few rows behind where he was supposed to sit.

His steps slowed at the sight of her.

He sat down and started fidgeting with things on his body out of habit more than anything else. His mom settled in next to him.

“You okay?”

“I’m good,” he said automatically.

She looked at him, then smiled to herself like she knew better.

“Mhm,” she hummed while turning her attention forward.

Michael leaned back into his seat, letting out a breath through his nose.

And he got that feeling you get when someone's looking at you. He could feel her staring through the back of his head.

His shoulders tightened as his hands rested against his thighs while he stared straight ahead. Michael didn’t trust himself to turn around right now.

His phone buzzed softly in his lap. He glanced down.

Breathe.

He inhaled, then exhaled slowly. His shoulders dropped his shoulders the tension in him easing. He rubbed his thumb lightly along the edge of his phone before locking it again and setting it face down against his leg.

The lights dimmed in the room as a signal that the show was about to start.

His leg bounced once before he caught that he was doing it. He pressed his foot flat against the ground to still it.

In all of everything that had been building in him all night, he hadn’t even really thought about how she might be feeling. He hadn't thought beyond how she helped to calm him down and be his anchor. But this was her night too. It was her first nomination as well and the first time that she had been in this room.

He quickly glanced back at her, but she was looking forward past him. She was smiling, taking everything in.

He cleared his throat softly, and her eyes flicked to him almost immediately. Her expression melted just a touch when she saw him. There were no real words or gestures between them, but they knew what the other was saying. He turned back around giving himself a small nod, because what they just did would be enough for now.

The lights dimmed further and the room quieted. Conan O'Brien, the host for the night, walked out on stage to a round of applause.

Michael sat up a little straighter, hands resting on his legs, eyes forward.

The night had officially started.

Conan’s monologue rolled on, filling the room with easy laughter. It was the kind of opening that loosened the tension. Michael laughed where he was supposed to and smiled when the cameras were set on him.

The music cue started and the room subtly reset.

“And now, let's get into the the first award of the night. Introducing…” Conan started.

On stage, the presenters walked out, smiling and playing their part as the room applauded again. Michael barely registered who they were and what they were saying. His focus had shifted to behind him.

“For the incredible performances that moved us, challenged us, and stayed with us…”

The clips started rolling, one by one. Each of the nominees' names were called and their performances highlighted.

“Wunmi Mosaku. Sinners.”

Her face lit up the screen. It was a short clip of one of her lines from the shack scene. Michael felt pride and hope go through him because he knew what she gave to play Annie. And the. energy she put into it.

The room clapped as the clips ended, the camera cutting back to the presenters as one of them opened the envelope.

Michael’s breathing slowed, then stalled. He didn’t realize he’d stopped until it was too late.

“And the Oscar goes to…”

That pause went on longer than it probably was.

“…Amy Madigan. Weapons.”

Applause filled the room instantly. People stood, clapped, and celebrated.

Michael felt his heart sank straight into his chest, but not for himself, for her. His hands came together automatically, clapping like everyone else, but there was no rhythm to it. He had to force it.

He didn’t turn around to look at Wunmi. He didn't trust what might show on his face if he did. He swallowed, jaw tightening as he kept clapping. His eyes fixed were on the stage where Amy was walking up, smiling and emotional.

Michael nodded slightly to himself, trying to stay present. His hands slowed, then stopped as the applause settled. He leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose, but it didn’t ease anything. If anything, it made that anxiety creep back in.

His fingers tapped once against his leg before he stilled them, forcing himself to sit still and to breathe like she told him to earlier.

The second they cut to commercial, people stood up to stretch and talk. Michael stayed in his seat trying to collect himself. He barely looked around, but it didn't take long for him to feel a presence right next to him. He looked up and there she was.

Wunmi stood angled toward him, one hand resting behind him on the back of his seat, the other relaxed at her side. She was smiling down at him.

He looked at her like he needed to make sure she was actually okay.

Then his eyes checked around quickly, to make sure cameras or phones or people weren't paying too much attention to them. And when it he saw the it was as clear as it was going to get, he reached up, took her hand without hesitation, and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

He stood up while holding onto her and pulled her in close before she could even say anything. His arms wrapped firmly around her.

"You good?" He leaned in slightly, his voice low against her ear.

Wunmi pulled back just enough to look at him. She nodded.

“I’m fine. I already expected it,” she said, calmly. There was no bitterness in her tone.

His gaze softened slightly, eyes moving over her face again like he was seeing her for the first time all over again.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly.

She smiled at that.

“Thank you,” she replied, her hand coming up to his chest, smoothing lightly over his buttoned jacket.

Her eyes moved past him, her body angling slightly as she leaned just enough to look around him.

“I really came over to see your mom,” she said her tone far more playful now.

Michael blinked once, caught off guard, before letting out a quiet breath that almost turned into a laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered.

She slipped past him, the fabric of her dress brushing lightly against him as she went.

“Ms. Donna!” she squealed softly. Her voice lifted in a way it hadn’t with him.

Michael’s mom lit up instantly.

“Hey baby!” she said, standing up without hesitation, pulling Wunmi into a warm hug.

Michael watched them with a small smile settling on his face.

His family had taken such a liking to her. His mom loved her, she loved them. From the first time she saw them together and noticed how they interacted with each other, she had been on him about getting with her ever since.

He shook his head slightly to himself, watching as they pulled apart, his mom held onto Wunmi’s hands for a second longer as they talked.

“You look so gorgeous,” his mom said, looking her over.

“Thank you. You look amazing,” Wunmi smiled.

They talked for a minute, giving each other small updates on things. Then Wunmi glanced toward the stage briefly, noticing things were about to pick back up.

“I’m gonna go sit before they start again,” she said.

“Alright, baby,” his mom replied, giving her hands one last squeeze. “I’ll see you after.”

Wunmi nodded, then turned slightly, her eyes glancing back to Michael for just a second, then she was gone.

The night went on and what started out as feeling like minutes, slowly turned into hours. Anxiety webbed it's way through the rhythm of the show.

Michael tried to track everything happening, and for some of it he was able to.

When Ryan’s name was called, the entire room lit up. Michael was on his feet before he fully registered it, clapping hard with pride written all over his face as Ryan made his way to the stage. His speech was moving as he thanked the cast, the crew, talked about the story and the intention behind it.

Then Miles' performance got people up and moving. His voice filled the room, and the recreation of the juke joint brought Michael back.

Autumn’s win followed later, and that one felt just as big. Michael clapped, looking toward her with genuine respect as she stood at that podium, speaking directly to the women in the room. You could feel it ripple through the audience.

By the time they got to the final stretch of the night, Michael felt twisted up. The closer it got to his category, the more everything else started to blur. Conversations around him dulled. Applause felt distant. His body was there, but his mind kept circling.

His mom’s hand found his. She didn’t say anything, she just held it.

“And now the presenters for best actor,” Conan’s voice carried through the room again.

Everything in him shut down. Michael swallowed, his throat dry, his hand slightly tightening around his mom’s without meaning to. He exhaled.

Then the presenter walked out. Words he barely processed as they started introducing the nominees. The clips rolled.

“Michael B. Jordan. Sinners.”

The screen filled with his face. It was a clip of the scene of the twins getting into their cars to split off. The reaction in the room was more than he expected. It startled him just a little, his brows pulling together slightly as he watched it play out. Then it moved on to the rest of the nominees.

Michael’s breathing went shallow. He didn’t even realize he had stopped inhaling properly until the clips ended.

The presenter held the envelope and it felt like time slowed down.

“And the Oscar goes to…”

That pause felt longer than anything else that night.

Michael’s fingers curled slightly against his mom’s hand.

“…Michael B. Jordan.”

The room erupted in loud applause. People rose to their feet giving him a standing ovation. But his brain hadn’t caught up to what his ears had just heard.

His mom’s grip tightened instantly, her face lighting up, smiling wide as she turned toward him.

“Baby!” she said, her voice breaking through everything.

Michael exhaled hard. A breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding for the last…who knew how long. His shoulders dropped slightly, his head dipping as it finally hit him. He won.

Delroy's hands hit his shoulder, clapping him firmly, pride clear on his face.

Behind him, Wunmi was up on her feet, clapping and smiling. Her cheering carried through the noise, excitement written all over her.

Ryan practically jogging up the aisle before Michael even fully stood up. They met halfway, pulling each other into a tight hug.

“Let’s go,” Ryan said into his ear, gripping him hard.

Michael nodded, but he still looked dazed like he was trying to catch up. He turned to hug Delroy next. And while his arms were wrapped around the older man, his eyes found hers.

Wunmi stood with a wide smile while their eyes locked. She looked not only proud, but happy and relieved. She reached her hand out toward him as he naturally moved closer to her.

But Michael didn’t want to just have that. As soon as he let go of Delroy he moved a bit so the seats weren't a problem. He pulled Wunmi into him, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He needed something real to hold on to so that he knew this was real. And she was as real as he would get.

He tucked his face slightly into her shoulder, and for a moment everything else faded away. He breathed her in and all that was left was her…his lifeline.

“Go,” she murmured softly near his ear.

He pulled back slowly and that’s when they could see that glisten in his eyes. He was holding back all his emotions. He nodded, trying to pull himself together.

Michael started toward the stage, the walk feeling like a blur of time. He didn't know if it was too long or too short. He barely registered the steps, the lights, the applause. It all just mixed together. The standing ovation hadn't died down, and every eye was on him.

He shook the presenter’s hand, accepted the Oscar, and the second it was placed in his hands he looked down at it. The weight of the solid gold sitting in his hand felt surreal. He just stared at it like he was trying to process how it even got in his hand.

The audience was still on their feet, clapping and celebrating him.

He stepped up to the mic, and cleared his throat as his grip tightened around the Oscar.

“Man,” he breathed out, a small, disbelieving smile was on his face.

A few soft laughs echoed through the audience.

He shook his head lightly, eyes dropping for a second before he looked back up.

“God is good.”

The room responded with applause and agreement.

Michael gave a longer pause this time. He was trying to gather anything that felt right to say, because he hadn't planned for this at all. He was too busy being in his head about to really think about what he would actually do when he won.

He glanced out into the crowd, scanning until he found his mom front and center. She was smiling at him with that smile she gave when she was incredibly proud of him. His eyes softened when they made eye contact.

“Mama, what’s up,” he said, voice lighter now, a real smile breaking through.

The room reacted warmly as the camera cut to her.

He nodded like he needed that connection before he could keep going.

“My dad came all the way from Ghana to be here tonight,” he continued. “My brother, my sister…I love y’all. Thank you.”

He swallowed, shifting his weight, still holding onto the Oscar like it might disappear if he loosened his grip.

“I gotta thank Warner Brothers for betting on original ideas, on culture, on stories like this.”

His eyes flicked toward Ryan.

“And Ryan…” he exhaled, shaking his head a little. “Man. Thank you for being more than a collaborator. For being a friend. For trusting me and giving me the space to be seen. I don’t take that lightly.”

His voice caught at the end of that. He took a breath.

“My incredible cast…” His eyes moved until they landed on her.

“…Wunmi,” he said, her name coming out so soft. “Thank you so much for giving Smoke the opportunity to be him.”

The camera cut to her briefly. She was smiling wide, glowing in a way that felt just as loud as the applause around her.

“And Hailee, thank you for giving Stack the space to shine.”

He nodded, almost to himself, like he was checking things off, trying not to lose his place.

“I’m—” he started, then stopped, letting out a breath that almost turned into a laugh. “I didn’t…I didn’t think I’d be up here, I’m not even gonna lie.”

The audience chuckled softly.

He shook his head, blinking a few times, the emotion sitting right there in his eyes now.

“Thank you to everybody who saw something in me, who bet on me, who believed in me when I was still figuring it out,” his voice was stronger now. “And to the ones who still do, I just wanna keep making you proud. And to the fans, thank you for showing up once, twice, three, four, five times,” he added, a small smile pulling at his face again. “Thank you. You made this movie what it is. I love you.”

He looked down at the Oscar one more time, then back up. He stepped back from the mic, still looking slightly dazed, eyes glassy, a breath leaving him like he was finally coming back into his body.

The applause swelled again as he walked off stage, gripping the Oscar tightly, his expression a battle of disbelief and relief.

As he disappeared behind the curtain, the show cut to commercial, but the energy in the room didn’t drop.

The second he stepped off stage, hands were on him, pulling him in different directions all at once. Someone from production was saying something in his ear, but he barely caught it. His focus kept dropping back down to the Oscar in his hand.

It was real. This was all real.

“Right this way,” someone said, gently steering him through the side area and back toward the seating.

When they got close, people were standing, leaning into the aisle, reaching for him.

He barely had time to sit before he was surrounded giving out hug after hug. A smile stretched across his face so naturally it almost hurt.

“I’m so proud of you,” His mom tugged him in for a tight hug, her voice emotional.

“I love you,” he replied, holding onto her just a second longer before someone else was pulling him in.

It didn’t stop, but through all of it, he just kept smiling so big and real.

Every now and then, he’d glance down at the Oscar, almost like he needed to double check that it was still there, still his. His thumb brushed over the engraved plate area that was still blank for now, a small shake of his head following like he still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

The rest of the show moved quickly. He clapped. He laughed. He stayed present in a way he hadn’t been able to earlier all the way until the end.

Once it was over, he was led out of the main room and into another area for the press conference. When that wrapped, he was moved to the larger reception room where everyone else was. People were mingling, and conversations flowed easier now that the pressure was off. Michael stepped into the room with his family close by, still holding onto the Oscar.

The group moved together through the space until they reached the engraving station. He handed the award over carefully and watched in disbelief as it was engraved. The room around him faded and he swallowed, blinking a few times as he watched the letters take shape. His sister rubbed his back to help ease him back into reality. When they handed it back, he held onto it tighter.

He moved through the room after that, greeting people, accepting more congratulations as the night continued.

But even in the midst of that, he was searching until he saw her across the room. Wunmi stood tucked into a quieter corner with her team. Her posture relaxed. She was talking and similing with them.

Michael’s gaze lingered, then he turned back to his family.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

They followed his line of sight immediately.

“Yeah, we know where you going,” his brother added.

He shook his head, trying to brush it off, but the small smile on his face gave him away. He turned around and walked off.

When he got close enough, he reached out. His hand found the warm bare skin of her back, and he pressed there gently enough to pull her attention without interrupting too much.

Wunmi turned almost instantly. She had a small portable fan in her hand, angled up toward her face. A few loose pieces of her braids shifted slightly from the airflow, the gold catching the light every time she moved. Her expression brightened as soon as she saw him.

“Hey,” she said, smiling as she stepped into him.

He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close to him, Oscar still in one hand. He didn't let the award stop him from holding her they he needed to.

Her arms slid around him just as easily, one hand still holding the fan loosely at her side as the other came up along his back.

And then he dropped his head right into her neck on instinct. Even though he had his family, she was the only place that he truly needed at the moment.

Wunmi felt a small shift in his breathing the longer he stayed there. His body settled heavier into hers. A quiet sniffle came out. Her expression softened even more as her hand moved slowly up and down his back to comfort him. She let him have that moment to feel it all.

“I’m so happy for you,” she murmured softly, her voice low enough for it to stay between them. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve it.”

His grip tightened, because he needed to anchor himself. Then he pressed a kiss against her neck. He pulled back after that, just enough to look at her. His eyes were glossy, the emotion still sitting right there on the surface.

“Thank you, baby,” he said quietly.

Her smile widened as she really looked at him.

He kept one hand on her. His fingers rested lightly against her waist now, thumb brushing just slightly against the fabric of her dress feeling the need to stay connected.

And then he just looked at her. His eyes said everything he couldn't quite say in a room this public. Wunmi saw everything that had built up over all of this time. She held his gaze with her own knowing one.

His eyes dropped down to her lips, and he licked his own while staring at them.

A small smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. She lifted her hand, patting lightly against his chest, leaning in just enough so her voice didn’t travel.

“Later, baby,” she whispered.

He exhaled softly, a small smile breaking through as he nodded, pulling himself back into the moment.

“Okay,” he said under his breath. “You going out after?”

“Yeah. I have to go back to the hotel to change.”

“Okay, me too. It might take me a minute, though,” he said.

“That’s fine,” she replied easily.

Michael noticed the fan in her hand and how she angled it toward herself while talking to him.

“You hot?” he asked. His face scrunched slightly, concern slipping through his voice.

She nodded once. “It’s a lot in here.”

He looked around briefly as if he could fix it somehow.

Then back at her.

“Go back to the hotel and get some rest,” he murmured, pulling her into another hug, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She nodded. “Okay.”

But when he pulled back, he caught the reluctant look in her eyes. He held her gaze, his hand coming up to pat her back lightly.

“Go,” he said softly.

She stepped back and he let her go, even though he clearly didn't really want to.

Wunmi didn’t linger for long. Her team gathered around her, gently ushering her through the room, keeping things moving before she could get pulled into more conversations and congratulations that weren’t even hers to carry tonight.

“The car’s ready when you are,” her publicist said softly, leaning in so she could hear over the noise.

Wunmi nodded, adjusting the fan so it was angled toward her neck this time. The room really had gotten too warm with the combination of bodies and lights, it was just too much.

The second she got outside though, the cool night air was a welcome refresh.

She let out a small breath as someone opened the car door for her. Her team helped her into the car, carefully holding the fabric of her dress. Once she was settled into the seat she let out a heavy exhale and leaned back against the seat.

“Jesus, it was hot in there,” she chuckled under her breath.

With her head leaned back, she closed her eyes as the car pulled off.

The ride wasn’t long, but it was enough to settle her body and calm her down.

When they got back to the hotel, they moved quickly so they would have some time. It didn't take but a few short minutes to get her to her suite. The second the door closed behind them, she slipped her heels off with a quiet groan, flexing her toes against the floor.

“Thank God,” she muttered, earning a few soft laughs from her team.

“Alright, let’s get you out of this,” her stylist said while moving toward her.

Wunmi stood in the center of the room as they helped her take everything off. They started with her hair by removing each of the gold pieces and setting them on the table nearby. They kept her braids in, so she could have a style for the rest of the night. Then they carefully helped her out of her dress and hung it up.

Wunmi reached for the robe draped over the chair nearby, slipped it on, and tied it loosely around her waist.

She rolled her shoulders back once, then twice, letting her body settle fully now that she wasn’t being held up by structure and styling.

“You want to start getting ready now or?” her stylist asked.

Wunmi shook her head gently.

“Give me a second. I just need a quick nap,” she said.

“Alright,” her publicist said. “Forty-five minutes?”

“Yeah,” Wunmi nodded, moving toward the bed.

She picked up her phone, setting an alarm before placing it on the nightstand. Then she climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over herself. Her body sank into the mattress almost immediately, exhaustion finally catching up now that she had allowed it to.

The car pulled up to the In-N-Out not too far from the venue, and there were already dozens of people outside. He stepped out of the sprinter with the Oscar still in his hand and there was an immediate reaction. Cheers broke out from inside and outside almost at the same time.

He smiled so easily it was like he was made for this life. He lifted the Oscar slightly as he walked in, almost as a silent acknowledgment, and the place got louder.

“Appreciate y’all,” he said as he moved through the crowd.

People were reaching out wanting to touch him and get a picture with him.

When he got to the counter, the staff was just as excited.

“Congratulations!” someone behind the register said, already smiling wide.

“Thank you,” he replied, leaning slightly on the counter.

He ordered quickly and nothing about it seemed as normal as it should. While he waited, he leaned back against the counter, glancing around the restaurant. People were watching him, whispering, taking pictures and videos from a distance.

When his number was called, he stepped forward, grabbing the tray carefully, balancing it in one hand while the other still held onto the Oscar. They found a table tucked off just enough to give him a little space, but not completely. He sat down, setting the tray in front of him, placing the Oscar right beside it on the table.

His photographer stepped in with his camera ready.

“Mike, you ready?”

He nodded, shifting slightly in his seat, resting his forearms on the table. One hand lightly gripping the Oscar, angling it just enough. He smirked slightly, shaking his head as the camera kept going. He couldn’t believe he was part of the tradition now.

“Aight, we gotta head out so you can change,” someone said.

Michael nodded, taking one last sip of his drink before standing up, grabbing the Oscar. He gave one last look around the place, smiling and waving to a few more people as they called out to him.

“Congrats again!”

“Appreciate it!” he called back.

Michael arrived to the Vanity Fair party in a brown suit that fit him perfectly, and a pair of retro orange shades to top the look off. And of course, the Oscar never left his hand. It was practically an extension of his body now.

He moved through the room with confidence, starting conversations and accepting congratulations from his peers. Hugs and compliments came from all directions.

Across the room, Wunmi was pushing through the crowd as well. She was pulling a different kind of attention. Her and her dress caught everyone's eyes. The dress was a beautiful deep orange silk with a slit in her leg that revealed just enough when she walked.

She greeted people with ease, dipping into soft conversation. Her presence was calmer than his, but just as magnetic.

When their paths crossed, they stood close together, hoping not to draw too much attention to themselves.

“You good?” his voice was low as his eyes took her in.

She smiled. “I’m good.”

His eyes dropped briefly to her dress and the way it fit on.

“Yeah, you look good,” he muttered, almost like he was talking to himself.

“Thank you,” she smirked giving him a playful side-eye.

They stayed close for a while, but they soon got pulled into separate conversations. Going back to that routine of talking and conversing with those around them. But after a while, it got old. There were too many boring, reptitive conversations, and too much standing around.

When they met back up, Michael was quick to try to remedy their situation.

“You tryna stay here?” he asked.

Wunmi didn’t even hesitate. She shook her head lightly, a small laugh escaping her.

“No.”

He smirked, knowing the answer before he asked.

“Me neither. I think people are headed to the Gold party. You wanna head there?”

“Sure.”

They left just as they had arrived…separate. Michael left first, doing his round quicly and getting a few last minute picture. Wunmi stayed a few minutes longer as she had gotten pulled into getting updates on people she hadn't seen in a while.

When the two actually got to Beyoncé and Jay-Z's Gold Party, the vibe was just what they had been looking for. The space itself felt more exclusive and actually protected. For the first time all day, they could actually breathe.

Michael spotted her not too long after arriving.

Of course, he had to go through a few people first to get to her, but once he saw that flash of orange across the room, that was it. His attention stayed locked.

“You having fun?” he asked after getting the chance to walk across the room.

She smiled, swaying a little to the music. “Now I am.”

For the next couple hours, they stayed in their own pocket of the night. They danced with drinks in their hands, not too close, but not out of reach either. Their bodies brushed and his hands found her waist. They were practically flirting with their bodies, testing the space between them.

As the night kept going, the energy between them kept building.

Every time she laughed, every time she moved, every time she brushed past him, it got harder to ignore. The adrenaline from the win hadn’t gone anywhere. If anything, it intensified everything. He needed to be near her. Touch her. Talk to her. Be in her…

Eventually, they drifted away from the main crowd to a smaller corner that was tucked off to the side. It was much darker, and quieter. The music was still there, but it was more of a murmur in the background.

Michael was closer to her than he had been all night. Wunmi's back was against the wall as she looked at him. He didn't say anything, just stared at her eyes, her lips, the way her chest rose and fell so gently.

Wunmi let out a soft giggle, her head tilting just a little. “What?” she asked, amused by the intensity of his stare.

He didn't say anything, he just leaned in and kissed her. And he kissed her like he'd been holding back all night. And he had been.

After a minute of their mouths moving like nobody was watching. Wunmi pressed a light hand to his chest.

“Michael…” she exhaled, pulling back just enough to breathe. Her skin felt warm, her body reacting just as much as his was.

She leaned in again, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, but when his arm wrapped around her waist to pull her back in, she stopped him again.

“Mm-mm,” she murmured, shaking her head slightly, though she was smiling.

He exhaled, trying to steady himself.

“We should go,” she said softly. “We can finish this at the hotel.”

He nodded once. “Yeah.”

His hand found hers without thinking, fingers closing around it as he started to pull back like he was ready to leave right then.

“Come on—”

“Wait, baby.” Her grip tightened just enough on his wrist to stop him.

He looked back at her.

“You go around, say your goodbyes, and I'll leave first,” she said.

He held her gaze for a second. But he knew she was right to do it like this, even if he didn't like it.

“Fine,” he muttered.

She gave him a small smile, squeezing his wrist once before letting go. Then she stepped away from him, and walked off.

Michael tried to play it cool. He really did. But the second Wunmi slipped out of that corner and disappeared into the crowd, he became incredibly impatient.

He only stayed because he truly had to. People had started to come up to him again now that he wasn't occupied. But with every conversation his attention grew shorter and shorter. Every second felt longer than it really was. He kept checking his watch, then his phone.

He tried to be respectful and not rush people, but it was getting harder because all he could think about was her. He was too focused on her dress and how she felt against him.

After thirty agonizing minutes, he finally found his chance to break away.

“Aight, I’m finna head out,” he said quickly to the people closest to him, stepping back.

“Already?” someone asked.

“Yeah, I’ll catch y’all,” he replied, not even slowing down.

And then he was gone. Moving faster than he had all night.

“Take me back to the hotel,” he said as soon as he got inside of the car.

The car pulled off and it was silent. He was left with just his thoughts. His leg started bouncing in anticipation and adrenaline.

He pulled his phone out, unlocking it quickly and going straight to her messages.

what room you in?

He stared at the screen, expecting for her to answer right away. But she didn't. Minute after minute passed and she still hadn't even so much as read the message.

He was trying his hardest not to overthink what could've happened. Because he didn't know what he would do if she was asleep.

He exhaled sharply, leaning forward slightly in his seat before forcing himself back so he could relax. But in reality he couldn’t.

The car ride to the hotel felt impossibly long felt longer than it actually was. So when they pulled up to the hotel, he reached for the handle before the driver could fully stop.

By the time they pulled up to the hotel, he was already reaching for the door before the driver could even fully stop. He quickly stepped out and moved over to the side, refreshing his screen hoping that would make her respond faster. And as soon as he got ready to send her a text after almost fifteen minutes of no response, his phone buzzed.

1016. Come on up 😉

He slid the phone back into his pocket, tightening his grip on the Oscar in his hand as he turned and headed inside.

He walked as fast as possible through the lobby and past the front desk. He didn't slow down as he walked straight to the elevators. Luckily the doors opened as soon as he pressed the button, so he rushed inside and waited for the doors to close. Every floor it passed felt slower than the last, the quiet hum of it doing nothing to settle him. His reflection stared back at him in the mirrored walls, his suit slightly loosened now, shades covering his lowered eyes.

The elevator doors opened and he practically jogged out. His eyes scanned the doors as he passed, trying to find her suite as quickly as possible. And as soon as he found it, he knocked on her door immediately.

Then he waited. And waited. And waited. His chest rose and fell heavily in anticipation. He shifted his weight, about to knock again when the door opened. And whatever he was about to say was completely gone.

Wunmi stood there, framed in the doorway as if she had been waiting hours for him. She was wearing a wine red robe that was tied loosely around her. It hid just enough.

His eyes roamed her body carefully or hat he could take everything in. When he made it back up to her face she had a knowing smile on her face.

Her hand held the door open, body angled just slightly like she was about to step back, probably about to say something, but he didn’t give her the chance. His mouth was on hers before she could get a word out.

His arm wrapped around her waist—Oscar still firm in his grip—pulling her into him as he stepped forward, guiding them both inside without breaking the kiss. The door shut behind them with a firm click. He didn’t even look back to see it close.

Wunmi let out a soft sound against his mouth, her hands coming up to grip his upper arms as he pressed into her.

The kiss was passionate and level as it was filled with everything that had been building up for the night. Her body gave into it for a moment, leaning into him, matching his energy just enough before she pulled back a little so she could breathe. Her chest rising and falling as she tapped lightly against his arms. She tried to step away, but his grip around her waist didn’t loosen, it actually tightened.

“Where you going?” he murmured roughly.

She swallowed, clearing her throat as her eyes flicked away from his for a second.

“I was about to order room service,” her voice was a little breathy. “I’m hungry and I haven’t eaten in a while.” Her accent slipped through more when she said it, wrapping around her words in a way that made his gaze sharpen just a bit.

He didn’t respond right away, but very reluctantly his grip eased just enough.

She slipped out from his hold, turning away before she could get pulled back in again, walking toward the small table where the room phone sat. She picked it up, dialing quickly, pressing it to her ear.

“Hi, yes—room service please…” She heard movment behind her, but she didn't pay it much attention at the time.

He stepped close behind her, both hands free now as he had set the Oscar on the coffee table. His arms slid around her waist from behind, pulling her back into him.

She inhaled softly but didn’t stop talking.

“Yes, can I get the—”

His lips began to brush lightly against her neck. Her words faltered for half a second. Then he did it again and her grip on the phone tightened as she tried to stay focused.

“And…um also the—”

His mouth moved along her skin, from her neck to her shoulder, not caring much about what she was doing.

“—and a side of fries, please…”

He shifted, pressing a kiss just beneath her ear this time, and she closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself.

“Thank you,” she finished quickly, almost rushing the last part of the order before hanging up.

The second the phone clicked back into place, a soft moan escaped her mouth out of impulse. Michael had found a spot on her neck that made her shoulders drop instantly, her head tilting just slightly to the side as he lingered there.

“Michael…” she murmured, barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer.

She turned in his arms, her hands coming up to rest around his neck. His hands shifted naturally to her lower back.

“They said it would be about thirty minutes,” she said softly, searching his face.

He hummed low in response, but it didn't matter.

His mouth claimed hers again, his tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her until she melted against him. His hands stayed firm on her lower back, one sliding up to grip the nape of her neck, angling her head just right to deepen the kiss even more.

She matched him, her fingers grasping his shoulders, pulling lightly as the heat built between them. But he controlled it all, the pace, the pressure, pulling back only when he chose to.

His lips left hers with a soft, wet sound, trailing down to her neck. He sucked there, marking the skin with a pull that made her gasp. Then lighter kisses followed, right on that sensitive spot beneath her ear.

His hands wandered lower, slipping down the curve of her hips to cup her robe-covered ass. He squeezed firmly, palming the soft flesh through the thin fabric, kneading it like he couldn't get enough.

A breathy and needy moan escaped her, her body arching into his touch. "Michael..."

He simply kept sucking and kissing that spot, his breath hot against her skin, hands working her ass with steady pressure.

"Michael," she said again, sharper this time, her voice laced with urgency.

She pulled back forcefully, breaking the contact, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Her eyes locked on his. Without a word, she grabbed his hand, her fingers wrapping around his firmly.

"Come on," she said softly, her voice steady despite the flush on her cheeks. "Let's go to the bedroom."

She led him there, her steps quick but sure, guiding him through the suite to the open doorway of the bedroom. The king-sized bed waited in the center, looking so inviting under the low lamp light. She stopped just in front of it, turning to face him, still holding his hand.

His eyes were dilated, pupils blown wide, fixed entirely on her like nothing else existed.

"Take off your clothes," she told him while releasing his hand.

Michael didn't hesitate. His fingers moved to his suit jacket first, shrugging it off his broad shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. The white shirt came next, buttons undone one by one, revealing the hard lines of his chest and abs, skin still glowing from the night's adrenaline. He kicked off his shoes, then his pants, stepping out of them until he stood there in just his black boxer briefs.

She smiled at him, closing the distance until her body rubbed his. Her palms pressed flat against his chest, firm enough to push him backward step by step. Michael's legs hit the edge of the bed, and he sat down, the mattress dipping under his weight.

His hands instantly shot out, reaching for her waist to tug her onto his lap, but she caught his arms mid-motion, gripping them tight and pinned them in place so he couldn't.

"Not yet," she whispered, leaning down instead. Her lips pecked his quick and teasingly, leaving him wanting more.

He exhaled roughly, his hands slipping free from her hold only to slide down her sides to find the bare skin of her thighs peeking from beneath the robe. His fingers rubbed there, tracing the smooth curves, thumbs pressing in with gentle circles that made her skin hot.

She smiled wider, then sank slowly to her knees between his spread legs. The carpet was soft against her skin as she settled in. Her hands settled on his muscled thighs. She rubbed up and down them, feeling the tension in him.

Michael's hand came to her head being mindful of the two long braids in the back of her head. He stroked gently, watching her every move.

Wunmi's eyes flicked up to meet his, then down to the waistband of his underwear. She hooked her fingers in it, tugging lightly. "Lift up," she low and steady.

He did, raising his hips just enough. She slid the fabric down his legs and tossed it aside. His thick and heavy dick sprang out, curving slightly upward. She stared at it with wide eyes, lips parting just a bit. She always loved looking at it. It looked almost too much for her sometimes, but so pretty.

A soft moan slipped from her lips as she took it in, eyes still locked on his. Her hands wrapped around the base gently, both needed to fit around him. She scooted closer on her knees. Michael groaned at the feeling of her hands.

Her mouth closed over the tip, lips stretching around it. She pushed forward enough to take him in, then swirled her tongue, sucking lightly with a wet pull that made his hips twitch.

"Shit," he moaned, his hand moving to the back of her head, fingers wrapping around the two long braids. "Can I pull these?"

She nodded without pulling off, eyes watering just a touch.

He got a firm grip, twisting them a little in his palm. Michael pushed her head down further, guiding her onto more of his length.

She gagged a little, throat tightening around him, but she didn't wait for him. Her hands gripped his thighs, nails digging in as she took control of the pace, tongue swirling along the underside with every bob. She slid up and down slowly at first, then built a rhythm. Saliva coated him as she worked deeper, hollowing her cheeks.

Each time she sank down, she pushed a little further, throat relaxing to take more and gagging softly around him. She hummed from the fullness.

Michael moaned, his eyes fighting to stay locked on hers. "Fuck, Wunmi..."

She moaned around him in response, the vibration buzzing through his shaft. Heat pooled between her legs, she was aching and wet. She pressed her thighs together subtly, needing some relief, but it only made it stronger.

It didn't take long. His thighs tensed under her grip, breath hitching. "I'm— fuck—"

A deep groan tore from him as he came, thick ropes hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed it all.

A little escaped from the corner of her mouth. She pulled him out and wiped it with one finger, then slid that finger between her lips, sucking it clean before swallowing. Her eyes never left his. She rose to her feet, a smile on.

"Scoot back," she told him.

Michael shifted, sliding toward the headboard, propping himself up on the pillows as he watched her.

Wunmi's fingers found the tie of her robe, deliberately loosening it slowly. The fabric parted, falling open to reveal a deep wine red lace lingerie set. The bra cupped her full breasts, matching panties, and lace garters stretching down to mid-thigh. She shrugged the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to her feet before kicking it aside.

Michael's eyes widened, taking her in. If this wasn't the perfect way to celebrate his win, nothing was. His tongue came out to lick his lips, hand extending toward her.

She climbed onto the bed, crawling her way up to him, then swung a leg over, straddling his hips. She leaned down, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss.

His hands went straight to her large, plush ass, cheeks spilling over his palms. He gripped it hard, kneading the flesh through the lace, pulling her tighter against him as the kiss turned heated and messy.

She moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating between them, arching into his touch as he palmed her roughly.

Above him, she looked stunning, and his mind raced with only one thought: he needed to capture this moment. He broke the kiss, but she just dipped lower, lips finding his neck, sucking lightly along his throat.

"Wunmi," he said, clearing his throat.

She hummed against his skin, not stopping, nipping gently.

He hesitated, heart pounding. "Can I...record us?"

That made her freeze. She pulled back fully, lifting her head to search his eyes, surprise flickering there. "What?"

He cleared his throat again, holding her gaze, voice even as possible. "Can I record us? Please."

Wunmi's eyebrows furrowed, confusion sharpening her features. "No. Why would you even want that?"

Something in him tensed, a knot pulling tight in his chest. He needed this, so he could have something to relive this night and everything it would come with. And what better way than a video to pull out later, just for him. So he decided to beg. His hands slid up her thighs, thumbs brushing the lace garters, then higher to trace her hips. He gave her those pleading, wanting eyes that she could never resist.

"Come on, baby," he murmured, voice dropping low, fingers kneading her skin. "Just this one time, for me."

She huffed, staring down at him, shifting on his lap as his touch worked its magic. Sitting up straighter, she crossed her arms under her chest, listening while he kept begging.

After a long pause, she sighed heavy, rolling her eyes but despite everything in her telling her not to, she gave in. "Fine. You can record. us But on my phone. I don't want it anywhere it could get in the wrong hands."

His face lit up in excitement. "Okay. When will I get it?"

"You get it when I decide to give it to you," she said firmly, arching a brow.

"Okay, okay," he agreed quick, tapping her thigh lightly. "Let me grab it."

She slid off him, kneeling back on the bed as he got off the bed and stood up. He padded across the room naked, strong back flexing, then he snatched her phone from the nightstand. He handled it quickly, pulling up the camera, and propped it so it fully captured the bed.

Wunmi watched him from the bed, knees tucked under her, a flicker of unease in her eyes. She wasn't fully sold on this idea, but for him and because of what tonight was, she'd do it.

Michael climbed back on the bed, crawling toward her on hands and knees. He grabbed her waist, yanking her into him. Their mouths crashed together, tongues hot and urgent.

He pushed forward, guiding her down until her back hit the sheets. He hovered over her, one knee between her thighs, kissing her deeper as the mattress shifted under their weight.

Wunmi moaned into his mouth when his hips rolled down into her, his hard length pressing right against the damp lace of her panties.

His hand slipped between them, fingers hooking the waistband of her panties, tugging them down.

"We gotta take these off," he whispered against her lips.

She moaned louder, arching up as his fingers grazed the fabric over her folds.

They worked together with her lifting her hips and him pulling the lace down her thighs. He tossed them aside and kissed her again.

Without much thought, he teased himself at her entrance, before easing in, the thick tip parting her wetness. They both moaned at the stretch, her walls gripping him tight, trying to pull him deeper.

Michael pecked her lips, then dropped his forehead to hers. She let out another moan as he slipped further, inch by inch, filling her completely. His hips adjusted, tilting to hit that perfect angle deep inside, the one that made her entire body melt, legs trembling around him. He knew her every spot, and he wanted that reaction he knew it would bring.

Her hands cradled the back of his head, holding him steady as he started slow, deep thrusts, pushing to the base each time. She moaned loud, but it got lost in his mouth as he kissed her again, swallowing the sounds.

He pulled back just enough to stare into her eyes, voice rough with emotion. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby. I love you so much."

"Thank you, baby. I love you too." Wunmi moaned, walls clenching around him.

His thrusts picked up, pushing deeper, hitting that line where pleasure tipped into almost too much. Wunmi gasped, her hands sliding down to press flat on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palms.

Michael's eyes were locked on her face, watching her moan. She clenched around him on each stroke, pulling him in like she couldn't get enough.

Her eyes fluttered, starting to close from being overwhelmed, so he murmured low, "Does it feel good, baby?"

She nodded quickly, rocking her hips up to meet him. "It's just so much."

He glanced down between them, seeing how her slick folds stretched around his thickness as he disappeared inside her with every push.

"I know, I know," he soothed gently.

But he didn't ease up. Instead, he dug deeper, hips rolling, chasing those raw sounds she made.

Wunmi gasped louder, hands flying to his biceps, gripping hard. "Hold me," she pleaded, voice breaking. She needed him close, skin to skin.

He let her pull him down on top of her. Her arms wrapped tight around his head, squeezing him close. He kissed her neck soft, lips brushing sweat-damp skin. "I got you, baby. It's okay. I'm holding you."

He picked up speed just a touch. His long, powerful strokes had them both moaning into each other's ears.

Wunmi's hands gripped his arms tight, fingers holding on for dear life, but she shied from wrapping around him fully.

As if reading her mind, Michael caught her wrists gentle, guiding her hands to his back. "Put 'em right here," he murmured, pressing them flat against his skin. "Good girl."

She moaned louder at the praise. Each thrust exploded through her, her stomach tightened, pushing her quickly toward the edge.

"I'm goin—" Her warning broke into a sharp moan, words lost as pleasure overtook. Her nails scraped his back lightly, gripping hard.

"You can scratch it, baby," he urged, pushing their lips together for a deep kiss.

Their lips locked, her moans muffled against him, until she released, coming hard around him.

He pecked her lips, then leaned back slowly, moving to kneel between her trembling legs. He was still buried deep inside her as he watched her chest heave.

He gathered her soft legs in his large hands and eased them wider apart. Then he thrust back in, picking up where they left off.

Wunmi moaned, fingers twisting into the sheets, back arching off the bed as he filled her again.

Michael kept the pace, hands roaming up her curves until one palm gripped a full breast through the lace bra, thumb circling the hard nipple.

"You're taking it so well," he praised her.

She whimpered, "Please..." She was already close to another edge, body completely overwhelmed. She tried to close her legs, thighs pressing together to slow it down.

He shook his head. "Uhn-uhn. Open those legs for me."

She hesitated, then parted them. Michael hooked his hands into the soft crease behind her knees, pinning her thighs wide open, knees bent toward her chest. With her open like that, he went to town, thrusts turning harder and faster, pounding deep inside with wet slaps echoing in the room. And Wunmi could do nothing but take it. Her body rocking with every slam, completely at his mercy.

One hand flew to his chest, the other pressed his lower stomach, yet neither slowed him down.

"What's my name, baby?" he demanded.

She could barely form words, eyes unfocused, mind melted, but she managed to get out, "Daddy..."

He groaned in approval. "And what did Daddy win, huh?"

"An Oscar," she moaned.

A cuss slipped from her lips as he drove her deeper into the mattress, holding her legs even wider, folding her nearly in half.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," he rasped, thrusting even with her clenching tight around him. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said instantly, almost like it was on autopilot.

He felt his own release building up with her pulsing around him with no protection. She was the only one he ever went raw with, the only one he wanted to with.

He kept driving deep, careful nudges against the top of her ceiling, teasing that spot until she squealed, clenching tight around him every time.

Groans poured from him continuously, as his release came fast. He buried himself deep, tip kissing that sensitive spot, and came, filling her up.

Her legs shook violently under his hands, another orgasm unexpectedly ripping through her.

"Please…" she begged, body seizing as pleasure overwhelmed her.

She reached for any part of him. He caught her hand, lacing their fingers together as they rode it out.

They were so lost in each other, they forgot about the phone and room service entirely.

Earlier, a soft knock came from the suite door, but was ignored. The staff woman waited longer than protocol, with the hot food starting to cool on the cart. There was no "Do Not Disturb" sign hung, so she swiped her keycard and rolled the cart inside.

Her eyes caught the Oscar. She'd heard whispers from the other staff that Michael B. Jordan was in the hotel tonight. But she didn't think she would be serving him.

Muffled sounds came from the open bedroom door. And of course she felt the need to be nosy. She parked the cart by the table and creeped toward the doorway. And there he was, with his bare back flexed, hips moving forward as he held a woman's legs open.

Then, very clearly, she heard "I love you."

A muffled response followed.

The woman's eyes widened and she left quickly not wanting to interrupt what she could only imagine was a celebration.

Michael released Wunmi's legs, letting them fall to the sheets. Her chest heaved with each inhale, skin flushed and glistening. His eyes were fixed on her breasts that were still trapped by her lace bra.

She whimpered when he slipped out, the sudden emptiness making her clench around nothing.

He pecked her lips a few times, before trailing kisses from her lip to her cheek, neck, collarbone, and down to her chest. His lips kissed each breast, then his hand cupped one while his mouth latched onto the other. He tugged the bra down, exposing her dark nipples. He licked slow circles, then he sucked, pulling delicious moans from her throat.

Her hand found the back of his head to hold him there as he showed her some attention.

"They're so perfect, baby," he praised against her skin, voice muffled

He switched sides, mouth leaving a wet trail across her chest, sucking the other nipple with the same intensity. He kept going until he was satisfied, before leaning back on his heels. He licked his lips, eyes taking her ruined look in. His gaze dropped lower, to her swollen, leaking pussy. A low groan came from him.

"Turn over for me."

Wunmi swallowed hard. Doggy always felt iffy because Michael could get rough when he was lost in it. And tonight she was sure she'd have to brace herself with him still being high from his win.

She took a deep breath and rolled over, then pushed up onto all fours, back arched slightly.

Michael slid off the bed to stand behind her. He always loved his view from the back. "Come back toward me."

She inched backward on her knees, until she felt close enough. His hands firmly gripped her ankles and yanked her to the edge in one pull. Her body moved easily against the hotel sheets, ass now only inches away from him.

He pressed her upper body down into the bed, making her arch exactly how he wanted it, and her ass lifted up to him. His palm cracked against one cheek, then the other which made the flesh jiggle. She gasped, but he saw her subtly push back as if sshe wanted more.

Michael gripped his dick, rubbing the thick length up and down her slick folds, teasing her entrance until she moaned, ass wiggling eagerly against him.

Wunmi pushed back easing just the tip and another inch or two inside. A deep moan escaped as she stretched around him. Then she rocked forward, nearly pulling off, before sliding back those same few inches.

He bit his lip hard, watching as her body worked him over.

She kept it up, her pace not nearly fast enough for him, but her soft moans told him that she was enjoying every shallow push. His hand went the top of her ass to guide her back with each rock.

"Shit..." he moaned, the grip helping her meet him halfway.

Her fingers twisted tight into the sheets.

They rocked like that, pace gradually building.

"I love this dick," Wunmi gasped between moans, voice breathy. "It feels so good, baby."

Michael kept his hands on her hips, but he sharply pulled her further back on him, making most of his length sink in deep in her. She moaned loud.

His palm smack her ass again, the sting burning. "You can take more, right?"

"Daddy, please," she moaned, going forward automatically.

He just chased her, inching more in slowly. "C'mon, baby."

Her arm shot back, but he snatched her wrist up, letting her hand grip his solid arm. Using it as leverage, he pulled her onto him further, watching her take it.

"It's too much," she whined, but her moan sounded too needy, and her body clenched around the fullness.

He let go of her arm, hands going for her waist instead. Then he pulled her back slamming into her faster, deeper, and harder than before.

Moans spilled from her consistently now. Sounding so soft and sweet to his ears, it was like music. She gripped the sheets so tight as her body jolted with each thrust.

"You can take it," he urged. "Talk to me."

"Baby, I can't," she stuttered, eyes squeezing shut tight, overwhelmed.

Another moan ripped from her. He groaned as she fluttered around him.

"Yes, you can," he growled. "Tell Daddy what he wants to hear."

Wunmi's cries of "Daddy, please" kept going with every thrust as he pounded into her without mercy.

Her stomach tightened hard, legs trembling under the onslaught. "Baby, I'm about to come," she gasped, voice squealing.

He grunted low, hips never slowing. "Come for Daddy."

Quick, he sucked until his thumb was wet and then pressed it against her back hole then eased it in.

"Micha— Daddy!" She gasped out.

His thumb stayed buried knuckle-deep, while his other fingers gripped her ass cheek firmly to keep the momentum going.

Her release hit her so intensely that she unintentionally clenched around him. A string of moans spilled out—"Oh fuck—Daddy…"—as he fucked her through it. She creamed heavy, coating his whole dick white and dripping down.

Michael pushed her waist down, arching her deeper, then leaned forward over her back to hold her down as he continued thrusting.

It was far too much, it felt too good and yet too overwhelming. Wunmi reached back, palm pushing weakly at his thigh to slow him down.

Michael snatched her hand up, leaning down to kiss her knuckles. He pressed their intertwined fingers to her lower back.

"Baby, it's too big," she called out, voice wrecked. "And you're giving it all to me."

"I got to. So you know how proud of you I am. You proud of me too, baby?"

She whimpered with every slam. "Yes…congratulations, Daddy."

"Say it again."

"Congratulations, Daddy," she gasped louder.

"Fuck this pussy good," he groaned.

Then in a much softer voice, he asked, "Do you love me, baby?"

"I love you so much. Fuck—" She moaned, face shoved into the bed, muffling the words.

"I love you too."

He pushed through until his own release came close. "Fuck, I'm about to nut all in this good shit."

One more deep thrust, and he came filling her with hot ropes. He pulled out slowly, their cream leaking from her, then dropped down behind her, diving in without giving her a break.

Moans tore from her as he ate her from the back. He gripped her thighs to still her squirming and spread her open.

His tongue licked her entrance hungrily, sucking their mixed release, then went lower to her clit. He sucked and pulled making her moans so loud he figured they could hear her in the next room.

Her hand desperately shot between her legs, trying to nudge his head away as overstimulation hit. "W-wait, baby—I—I can't…fuck!" she cried between moans, thighs shaking.

He didn't let up, tongue flicking quickly even as she tried to crawl forward to escape. Michael climbed onto the bed, grip tightening on her thighs to hold her steady. He ate her until another orgasm had her body tensing. He slurped her up greedily, not wasting a drop.

He stood up and slapped her ass one more time, watching it jiggle as she collapsed forward onto the bed. Her whole body trembling violently.

Michael slid in beside her, gathering her body close, pulling her into his chest. Their lips came together in slow kiss, and his hands kneaded her ass lazily.

Her eyes fluttered shut eventually, exhaustion claiming her. He kissed her forehead, then slipped from the bed to grab the still recording phone from off the table. He hit stop and set it back on the nightstand before climbing back under the sheets.

Two days later, Michael was stretched out across his bed. One arm tucked behind his head, the other resting on his chest as he stared blankly at the wall. The room was quiet and it gave his mind too much space to wander. And all he could think about was Sunday night.

He let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face before letting it fall back onto the bed.

Everything about it had been a perfect night. From the win to the celebration. The way she looked, the way she sounded, the way she felt, and the way she tasted. It played back so vividly.

It didn’t help that she wasn’t even in the city anymore. She’d left the next day for work. She said she would only be gone for a few days, but a few days felt like a long time right now.

He shifted slightly on the bed, exhaling again, his jaw tightening as he tried to push the thoughts away. It didn’t work. If anything, it made it worse.

His mind went right back to the details like how she squeezed his dick so good, or how her mouth sucked him up so deliciously. He could picture it all, but some things were starting to get cloudy. Then he remembered that she had sent him the audio. It wasn't the actual video, but he knew better than to push for more.

He reached for his phone almost immediately, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages until he found it. His thumb hovered over it for half a second, then he pressed play.

He grabbed his headphones from the nightstand, slipping them on as he leaned back again, eyes closing as the sound filled his ears. And he was pulled right back there.

He exhaled slowly, his head tipping back against the headboard, letting it play out without interruption. His hand dragged down his body until he got to the band of his shorts.

The memory mixing with the sound in his ears, pulling him deeper into it. He slipped his hand underneath, grabbing himself. He slowly started stroking his dick at the breathy mixed sound of them both. His current breathing became heavier each time he went from base to tip. He got completely lost in it.

Until his phone rang.

His eyes snapped open, brows furrowing as he pulled one side of the headphones off, the moment broken.

“…man,” he exhaled, reaching for his phone, irritation clear as he glanced at the screen.

When he looked at the screen, he let out a quiet curse under his breath at what he forgot. It was one of the girls he had hit up earlier, because he needed a quick release.

“Yeah?”

“I’m outside,” she said, her tone a little playful.

“Aight, I got you,” he replied trying to hide his annoyance, before hanging up.

The headphones came off and he tossed those and his phone onto the bed. They landed somewhere near the pillows as he pushed himself up and headed out of the room. When he opened the door, she was standing there smiling, looking him up and down the second she saw him.

“Hey,” she said, stepping in and wrapping her arms around him.

He quickly hugged her back.

“Congratulations,” she added.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling back slightly.

Her expression shifted as if she had remembered something. A small pout formed on her face.

“But why you ain’t invite me over?” she asked, dragging the words out just a little. “We could’ve had fun…”

He looked at her for a second. Then looked away.

“C’mon,” he said instead, stepping to the side as he gestured for her to come in.

She gave him a look like she noticed what he did, but didn’t push it. Not yet at least.

He led her upstairs without saying much else, his energy more direct and less patient. The second they got into his room, she dropped her bag near the chair, turning back toward him just in time for him to close the distance.

He jumped straight into it by kissing her. She responded instantly, arms coming up around his shoulders as they moved together, but there was a subtly difference now. His focus wasn’t fully on her.

He guided her backwards toward the bed, and when the backs of her legs hit the mattress, she let herself fall back with a small laugh. He followed right after, crowding over her. His movements were quick, almost impatient. Almost as if he wanted to be done before they had even started.

Afterwards, they laid in a too quiet room. Michael was on his back, one arm resting behind his head again, chest rising and falling slower now as he came down from it. His eyes weren’t really focused on anything but the ceiling.

She was on her side, propped slightly up on her elbow, watching him, and thinking. She had seen a tweet earlier, and she couldn't shake the thought of it. And now with him so distant, she felt there was some truth to it. At first, she tried to brush it off because people said anything online. It came with who he was as a celebrity. But this one really stuck with her.

She hadn’t seen or heard from him that night. And now, laying here next to him, she couldn’t help but let her thoughts take her to a place beyond concern. She didn’t usually get like this with anyone, but he was different. He treated her well, and he respected her. And maybe somewhere along the way, she started wanting more. Or at least wanting to feel like she could be more.

Her eyes moved over him, studying his face, the calmness there that didn’t quite match how her mind was moving. She needed to know.

“Hey,” she said softly to catch his attention.

He glanced over at her. “What’s up?”

She gave him a small look, batting her lashes. “Can you get me something to eat? And a drink?”

He paused, then nodded. “Yeah, I got you.”

He pushed the covers back and got out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweats from the chair as he walked out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him. And the second it did, she moved fast.

The softness dropped from her face completely as she turned, reaching straight for his phone on the bed. For a second, she hesitated, but it all went out the window when she remembered how he was so caught up. Then she unlocked it. She remembered it from a time he forgot that she was laying next to him watching.

The second she got into his phone, she didn’t waste time, she went straight to his messages. Her thumb scrolled past names and numbers she didn’t care about. She wasn’t trying to read everything, but she was looking for something that felt different.

And it didn’t take long. There was a thread with nothing but an iCloud email.

Her brows pulled together slightly as she clicked it. There wasn’t a conversation. Just one message. An audio file. She tapped it and lifted the phone to her ear. And the second the audio started, her face went still. Her eyes narrowed as she listened to it for a few more seconds. She didn’t need long to understand exactly what she was hearing.

Her hand dropped slightly from her ear, but she didn’t stop the audio right away. It kept playing faintly, just enough for her to catch pieces of it and confirm what she already knew.

“Wow…” she whispered under her breath, though there was no real surprise, only irritation.

She stopped the audio and quickly sent the file to herself, fingers steady despite everything running through her head. Once it went through, she deleted the sent file from his side, so he wouldn't have a clue. Then she locked the phone and placed it back where it had been.

Her face was blank as she pulled the sheet slightly over herself.

By the time Michael came back into the room, she had put her act back on. Or tried to at least.

He walked in with a sandwich and a drink, completely unaware.

“Here,” he said, handing them over as he moved back toward the bed.

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice a little quieter than before.

She didn’t stay much longer after that. She finished her food, making light conversation when he spoke and let him touch her like he always did. If anything, she leaned into it a little more, playing the role just enough so he wouldn’t question it.

But her mind wasn’t present anymore. All she could think about was the intimacy she heard, and how he sounded so different with her. And the fact that it wasn’t her.

She finally decided to slip out of his bed, then put her clothes back on piece by piece.

“I’ll text you,” she said, smoothing her hands down her outfit as she grabbed her bag.

“Okay,” he replied, barely looking up from his phone.

She paused for half a second, looking at him. Then smiled.

“Congratulations again,” she added.

“Appreciate it,” he said, glancing up just long enough to give her a small nod.

And that was it, so she left.