#twolves

started as a “bad idea” high school situationship that everyone but you saw coming.

“yall are gonna end up together”, “yall know yal like each other” 24/7 365 since the second week of freshman year when he tried to neck respect you. 

he was loud, cocky, funny, and made it his mission to bother you every day.

you were a bit reserved, academically involved and honestly should have been nowhere near anthony edwards 

but there was just a certain je ne sais quoi about him hiding under all the jokes that you couldn’t resist 

anthony wasn’t your first, but he was the first to teach you what pleasure really was

he wanted to meet to “study” for physics, oh how young and naive you were then.

one study date turned into everyday after school and twice on weekends

as time progressed there was still no label on now a several year situationship

it was senior year and ant decided to stay local and play ball but you had bigger dreams.

he begged you stay, but why stay for a nigga who won’t even ask you to be his girlfriend?

you left for DC for school, full ride to your dream school and of course he played victim:

“she left me for them D.C. niggas, man. whole time I put her on game.”

you eventually got a boyfriend out there, and every break you came home, you avoided Ant like the plague.

you found yourself a nice college boy who actually had the courage to ask you out, why mess it up?

you knew yourself better than anyone, if anthony got you alone. your college romance was over.

you’d always hear about him talking shit, lord knows he loved to chat, telling people, “she still mine, she just having her fun’.”

a new years party at your cousins house, he finally cornered you in the kitchen tipsily whispering in your ear.“you wanna see if my pussy remember me?”and that was it.

10 months later, your son was born 

when you were pregnant, he treated you like absolute royalty.

drove you everywhere, carried all the bags, ran to every craving request. “you want wings and cookies at 2am? ok greedy but i’ll get it”

rubbed your feet even when he was tired after games.

bragged about you to literally everyone. you couldn’t walk through a store without him pointing at your belly.

first time you saw Ant cry was when your son was born. he was holding him, trying to play tough, then tears started running and he turned away real quick.

when your PPD hit, he stepped up in ways that made you realize he was no longer the 15 year old ant that made the chem teacher cry, he was a man. your man.

waking up for late-night bottles, rubbing your back when you cried, sitting in silence with you just so you wouldn’t feel alone.

he stresses you out, but he’s never been absent. he showed up for every appointment even if y’all weren’t speaking.

even when y’all fight, it always circles back to yall not wanting you allls son to live in a broken home. “we gon’ do better. i’m not gon’ let him feel how we felt.”

100% convinced his son is his mini-me.

(he definitely looks like you more than anything)

calls him his “twin” every five minutes.

puts him in full fits — Jordans, Amiri jeans, baby-sized chains.

carries him everywhere: practice, errands, the barbershop. your son has more of a social life than you.

strict for show, soft in practice. will yell “bedtime!” then you catch them up at midnight watching Bluey eating snacks.

swears he’s not spoiling him but can’t say no.

he balances NBA life and dad life the best he can. even when he’s on the road, he’s FaceTiming you

“put my boy on the phone, let dada see him.”

mind you, he’s 6 weeks old and can’t talk 

makes sure y’all are good financially. rent, cars, your tuition — handled. he doesn’t even make you ask.

buys you things just because, remembers little details, like a necklace you mentioned once months ago.

calls you before games for good luck. sometimes just wants to hear you cuss him out — swears it makes him play better.

y’all are toxic but its complicated! one week y’all are playing house, the next you’re blocking his number.

fights never last long because one of y’all caves, and it’s usually him. “man, stop playing with me. I ain’t going nowhere.”

knows you could leave if you wanted to. and that’s what keeps him on his best behavior (sometimes).

at his core though, he’s tender with you in ways he doesn’t even realize.

it’s a reason y’all got a baby. that man is nasty.

always pulling you back in after fights with the way he touches you.

he’s a soft lover but with a disrespectful mouth  makes you beg, say his name, makes you admit you need him, and you do. so very badly.

He’ll drag it out until you’re shaking, and laugh at how you jerk and squeal with every touch.

loves to keep you on edge, whispering stuff just to watch you squirm.

calls you names in bed that he would never use outside.

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