NASTYEXPOSURE

Ig:NASTYEXPOSURE

[urbnnoir]

Modern AU smoke & Annie inspired by Morning Dew…😏

[shereeluvssinners]

Michael 🤍

[urbnnoir]

I have absolutely NOTHINGGGGGG appropriate to say… AND I MEAN NATHANYARDSSSSSSS 🙈😂

[littlecuriousprincess]

Every Black girl is so pretty

*reblog if you agree*

[eckspress]

Any kinks?

eternal devotion.

[shereeluvssinners]

Michael 🤍

Thomas Crown Affair

[urbnnoir]

Oooooo I just know the fanfics are gonna go crazy 😭 and I can’t wait

[urbnnoir]

How devoted I imagine Smoke to be with Annie 🥰

[myheartsaysyes]

The Mixtape: Part 8

Summary: She wore a yellow dress. He opened the door. Eight years of silence finally comes to an end. Questions get answered. Truths come to light. Hearts are healed. And two people who never stopped loving each other finally get the chance to say everything they should’ve said eight years ago. 💛

Contains: Explicit Sexual Content, Rough and Sex, Possession, Claiming, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Multiple Positions, Wall Sex, Doggy Style, Missionary, Cowgirl (talks of it), Hair Pulling, Marking, Biting, Size Kink, and Praise

WC: 12k+

Dividers By: @saradika-graphics and @deadnburied13

“Annie…”

Stack’s voice broke the quiet before Annie had even finished buckling her seatbelt.

She glanced up. “What?”

He pulled away from Aunt Cheryl’s curb, looked in the rearview mirror, then looked again.

“Whatchu got on, mane?”

Annie frowned. “What you mean?”

“I’m askin’ whatchu got on.”

She looked down at herself.

A pale yellow babydoll dress that brushed the middle of her thighs whenever she walked. Soft cotton. Loose enough that the Mississippi heat wouldn’t suffocate her before nine o’clock. White sandals. Her braids were pulled into a high ponytail, the ends brushing the tops of her shoulders every time she turned her head.

She looked back up. “Clothes?”

Stack snorted.

Annie frowned. “What?”

He pointed toward the rearview mirror. “Look.”

She glanced at herself. “I’m lookin’.”

“Exactly.”

Annie folded her arms. “It’s already damn near a hundred degrees outside.”

“It’s eight in the mornin’.”

“And?”

“And you know gotdamn well what you doin’.”

“I don’t.”

“C’mon, bruh. You put on the shortest dress you own to see my brother.”

“It’s not my shortest dress.”

“It ain’t church length.”

“It comes mid-thigh.”

“Exactly. Too fuckin’ short.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s lightweight.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“It breathes.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I didn’t wanna be sweatin’.”

“Mmmmmm-hmm.”

She threw her hands up.

“Can you stop ‘mhmmin’ me?”

Pearline snorted.

Stack grinned.

“Can you stop lyin’ to me?”

She sighed. “You don’t believe me?”

Pearline was full-on laughing now.

Stack shook his head. “Hell nah.” He leaned back in his seat. “You tryna get fucked.”

Annie’s eyes widened. “What!?”

Pearline completely lost it.

Stack continued. “You tryna get Smoke to forget all the shit from yesterday.”

Annie looked back down at the yellow fabric gathered across her lap. Truthfully, she didn’t believe her damn self either. She’d stood in front of Aunt Cheryl’s guest room mirror for nearly twenty minutes that morning. Pulled out jeans. Put them back. Picked up another dress. Changed her mind. Finally reached for the yellow one because it made sense.

It was cool. Comfortable. Simple. At least, that’s what she’d told herself. The truth, however, settled somewhere much lower.

She wanted Elijah to look at her. 

To see her.

Not because she expected anything to happen. She wasn’t trying to seduce him. She just… wanted him to think she looked beautiful. The thought sent a flutter through her stomach.

“Nigga, shut up. She’s just a girl.” Pearline said while batting her eyes at him. She twisted around in her seat with entirely too much interest looking Annie up and down. “Buuut, I mean.” She shrugged. “If something does happen…”

“Pea.”

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it?”

“Pea.”

“What?”

“Stop.”

“I’m just sayin’.”

“I ain’t.”

Pearline’s grin widened. Then, without warning, she started singing in that smooth, honey-rich voice of hers.

“I wanna siiiit on it…”

She barely made it through the first lyric before laughing so hard she couldn’t continue.

Annie buried her face in her hands.

“Line, please.”

Stack barked out a laugh. “Yeah, keep singin’ like that and you gon’ be sittin’ on somethin’, girl.”

Pearline slapped his shoulder. “You always got somethin’ to say.”

“Am I lyin’?”

Pearline sucked her teeth, but didn’t outright answer the question, instead— “You ain’t right.”

“I been hearin’ that my whole life.”

Their voices blended into another playful argument, bouncing back and forth while Annie turned towards the backseat window. The smile faded from her face. Yesterday replayed itself whether she wanted it to or not. 

The disaster that was the cookout. 

Running after Elijah. 

His truck long gone before she reached the road. 

Walking through Aunt Cheryl’s yard with tears streaming down her face while everybody quietly gave her space to fall apart. 

The second she’d walked back inside, she’d looked straight at Stack. “Take me to his house.”

Nobody agreed. They’d all said the same thing. 

Not tonight. 

Everybody’s hurtin’.

Sleep on it.

But once everything quieted down, Stack reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder. He looked her square in the eye.

“If you still wanna go in the mornin’…” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll take you.”

So here they were.

Stack and Pearline were still going back and forth over something that she caught between pieces of laughter, but Annie’s attention had already drifted beyond the windshield.

The road narrowed as they left the highway behind, trading traffic for stretches of open fields and towering pines. Morning sunlight spilled across the countryside, catching the dew still clinging to tall grass and fence posts. Everything looked washed clean, quiet in a way cities never seemed capable of being.

Stack turned onto another road, this one gravel. The car bounced gently beneath them.

Pearline glanced over her shoulder. “We almost there.”

Annie nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure whether the motion was for Pearline or herself. Her stomach had been fluttering since she’d gotten dressed. Now it felt heavier. The butterflies hadn’t disappeared. They’d simply sunk deeper.

She looked out the window again.

The gravel driveway stretched farther than she’d expected, winding between rows of mature oak trees whose branches reached over the road like they were welcoming visitors beneath them. Beyond the trees, she caught glimpses of open pasture, weathered fencing, and acres of land stretching farther than she could immediately take in.

Then the house came into view.

It wasn’t flashy, and wasn’t the biggest house she’d ever seen. It wasn’t trying to impress anybody.

It simply belonged there.

A wide front porch stretched across nearly the entire length of the house, spilling around one corner just enough to suggest somebody had wanted one more place to sit beneath the evening shade. Thick wooden posts rested on stone bases that matched the stonework running along the front of the house, giving everything a quiet sense of permanence. Black rocking chairs sat near one end beside a small wooden table worn smooth by years of use instead of decoration. Hanging ferns swayed lazily beneath the porch roof while neatly kept flower beds softened the edges with just enough color to feel cared for without ever looking fussy.

Above it all, a dark metal roof caught the morning sun, practical and understated.

Exactly the sort of roof Elijah would choose.

Her eyes traveled further across the property to a large detached workshop that sat off to the side.

Even from the backseat she could see stacks of lumber tucked neatly beneath the overhang, each pile squared so precisely it looked less like storage and more like the work of a man incapable of leaving a job halfway done. A tractor rested beside the building. So did a flatbed trailer and a work truck dusted with dried Mississippi clay. The wide garage doors stood open, revealing shelves lined with tools and workbenches arranged with the same quiet order she’d always associated with him.

Nothing about the property felt accidental. Everything had a purpose. A smile tugged gently at the corner of Annie’s mouth before she realized it was there.

Of course.

Of course this was what he’d built. Not a home meant to impress strangers. A home meant to be lived in. Something that could weather storms. A place people could come home to.

Somehow…

It looked exactly the way she would’ve imagined. Quiet. Steady. Solid. Built with his own hands.

Built to last.

Something quiet stirred inside of her.

For years she’d wondered what kind of life Elijah had built without her. Wondered where he slept. If another woman had helped him build it. Or whether she’d even recognize the man he’d become. Instead she found herself looking at a place that answered all of those questions before she’d even stepped out of the car.

She still knew him.

It wasn’t that he’d changed so little, he’d changed exactly the way she’d imagined he would. He’d built a life the same way he built everything else.

One careful piece at a time.

Stack slowed to a stop near the front of the house before shifting the car into park. The engine fell quiet. 

Annie didn't move to get out of the car right away.

Pearline turned halfway around in her seat. “You want us to come up there with you?”

Annie’s eyes never left the porch. “No.”

“You sure?”

She swallowed. “No.”

Stack studied her through the rearview mirror for a long moment before nodding once. “You got this.”

Annie nodded. She reached for the door handle. Then stopped. Her hand rested there for a beat while she gathered what little courage she had left.

Yesterday she tried to run away. 

Today…

She was asking him to let her stay.

Taking one slow breath, Annie opened the door and stepped out into the warm Mississippi morning. The gravel crunched beneath her sandals as she made her way toward the house. Every step felt louder than it should have, the quiet of the property wrapping around her until all she could hear was the distant hum of cicadas and the steady thud of her own heartbeat.

The stillness she’d admired from the car suddenly felt enormous. She climbed the porch steps, smoothed trembling hands down the front of her dress, then raised one hand and knocked.

The door opened.

Elijah stood there barefoot, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair looked like he’d run his hands through it more than once after waking up.

Annie forgot how to breathe for a second.

She’d known he was built. Seeing him at Stack’s had made that impossible to miss and the cookout had only confirmed it. But those had been glimpses. This was the first time she’d seen him like this in years. Morning light stretched across his shoulders and chest, catching the definition carved into him in a way she’d never been prepared for. Her gaze dropped lower before she could stop it, lingering for the briefest heartbeat at the print in his pants. From what she could see, he was thick, long, and it curv—

Girl.

Annie, please.

Heat rushed into her cheeks. She dragged her eyes back up, silently scolding herself for staring. That’s when she noticed the fresh white gauze wrapped across his knuckles.

Annie’s breath caught.

There hadn’t been a bandage yesterday. 

Yesterday there had only been the sickening sound of Elijah’s fist connecting with Isoo’s face. The shouting that followed. Aunt Cheryl screaming his name. Blood streaked across his knuckles as he stood in the middle of the yard, breathing so hard she almost didn’t recognize him for a moment. Guilt twisted low in her stomach. She hated that he was hurt. Hated even more that she’d been the reason.

Neither of them moved or spoke.

Annie couldn’t explain what looked different about him at first. He was still Elijah. Still broad shouldered. Still standing there with that quiet way of looking at people that always made her feel like he noticed more than he let on. Then she realized it wasn’t his appearance at all. It was whatever had happened after he’d driven away from Aunt Cheryl’s house.

Something had reached him.

The tightness she’d grown so used to seeing around his eyes was gone. The anger he’d been carrying no longer seemed to sit just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest excuse to rise again. In its place was something quieter. He looked tired. Honest. Like he’d finally stopped fighting something that had exhausted him for far too long.

He listened to it.

His fingers flexed once at his side, almost imperceptibly, as though he were resisting the urge to reach for her. His eyes never left hers. Not once.

Her rehearsed speech disappeared. Every carefully chosen sentence she’d repeated to herself during the drive over dissolved the second she looked into his eyes.

She swallowed.

“Hi.”

The word came out softer than she’d intended.

She drew another breath.

“Elijah, I…”

He didn’t let her finish.

She came.

To him.

She didn’t wait for him to call or wait for him to come to her. She was here. Standing on his porch. Looking at him with the same uncertain hope she’d carried at the cookout. 

Something inside him finally gave way. Smoke’s hand shot out, fingers curling around her wrist and pulled her inside. Annie barely had time to say anything else before he pulled her against him.

Hard.

After all these years of wondering if he’d ever hold her again, he needed to know she was real. She fit against him exactly the way she always had.

His eyes squeezed shut.

A shaky breath escaped him before he could stop it as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

And there she was.

The same soft scent he’d spent years trying to remember whenever he closed his eyes. He’d forgotten the perfume she’d worn. Forgotten the shampoo she’d used.

But somehow…

Annie had always just smelled like Annie. Warm. Familiar.

Home.

His arms tightened around her, holding her so close she could probably feel his heartbeat hammering against his ribs.

“Elijah…” she breathed, her arms already winding around his bare back.

He only held her tighter. 

Annie breathed him in without thinking. Soap. Laundry detergent. Something unmistakably Elijah that no amount of time had managed to erase.

She’d tried to remember it a hundred different nights. She wondered if she’d imagined it. She hadn’t. It was still there.

For a long while they stayed like that. Everything they’d spent years carrying seemed to settle somewhere between them in the quiet.

Annie pulled back just enough to look up at him.

“I had to see you because I—”

Again, he couldn’t let her finish. His hand slid gently along her jaw before settling at the back of her neck.

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t hesitant. It was the kiss of a man who had spent time convincing himself he didn’t need this, only to discover he’d been wrong every single day.

Annie answered him immediately. Her fingers curled into his shoulders as she kissed him back, both of them trying and failing to steady their breathing.

“Elijah, I—”

“Later,” he murmured against her lips.

She laughed softly through a shaky breath. “But—”

“Later.”

Before she could protest again, he kissed her once more.

This one started gently.

It didn’t stay that way.

The relief of finding her here, that she’d come to him instead of leaving again, swept through him with a force he could no longer contain. His hand found hers and laced their fingers together while the other settled at her waist, drawing her closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between them.

Without breaking the kiss, Smoke eased her backward. Annie followed him without thinking, her hands sliding from his shoulders to the back of his neck as she gave him one slow backwards step after another. The door shut behind her with a muted click, and a second later her back met the front door with the softest thud. A quiet laugh warmed the kiss, small and breathless, as though she’d realized somewhere between the porch and the foyer, she wasn’t the only one who’d been imagining this moment.

The kiss deepened.

Years of missing her, of unanswered questions, and convincing himself he didn’t need her diminished the second she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with the same certainty. When they finally broke apart just enough to breathe, Annie couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Elijah…”

“Fuck.” His voice came out low and unsteady, the single word carrying more relief than frustration. He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closing for a moment. “Not now, Annie.”

He opened his eyes again. His thumb traced slowly along her lips.

“Just… let me have this first.”

She smiled at him—small, uncertain, the same smile that had undone him all those years ago. He traced his thumb across her cheek as if committing her to memory. Then she leaned into his touch, and he kissed her again, slower than before.

But that restraint lasted all of five seconds. 

Relief gave way to hunger.

Annie gasped when the kiss intensified. Smoke swallowed the sound, one hand fisting in the fabric at her waist, the other cupping the back of her neck to tilt her head exactly how he needed it. Years of pride and wanting poured into teeth and tongue. 

She kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers clawing at his bare shoulders, nails biting into skin. When he finally let her breathe, words she couldn’t form gave way to moans as he shoved the straps of her dress down her arms and dragged his mouth down her throat, sucking hard. He’d imagined holding her like this so many times that the reality almost hurt.

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, her legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, dress riding up around her hips. He slammed her back against the door with a low, hungry growl, the hard line of him grinding against the soaked cotton of her panties like he was trying to fuck her through the fabric.

“I been fuckin’ dyin’ witout you,” he rasped against her throat, voice rough and wrecked.

His hands were everywhere at once— rough and possessive. One palmed her breast hard, squeezing, pinching her nipple until she cried out. The other gripped her ass, fingers digging in deep enough to bruise as he rolled his hips, dragging his manhood right over her clit again and again.

“I missed you,” he growled, teeth scraping her collarbone. “Missed this. I’ve missed how you sound when I touch you.”

Annie’s hands were frantic, sliding down his stomach, shoving at the waistband of his sweatpants until his thickness sprang free, flushed and leaking. She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked once, hard and confident, but then froze for half a second.

Her eyes widened. Damn… he’s bigger than I remembered.

Smoke noticed instantly. That familiar smirk tugged at his lips as he watched her reaction. 

“Elijah—”

He didn’t wait. Couldn’t. He hooked his fingers in her panties and ripped them clean to the side, then lined up, and thrust into her in one long stroke that buried him deep in her guts.

Annie’s head thunked back against the door with a broken sob. “Ahhh fuck— Eli—!”

He didn’t give her time to adjust. He fucked her like the world was ending— hips snapping hard and fast, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the quiet house. Every powerful thrust punched a desperate sound out of her; broken moans, sharp gasps, his name like a prayer and a curse. Smoke chased every single one, angling his hips to grind against that spongy spot deep inside her that made her thighs quake around his waist.

“Still so tight,” he panted hotly against her ear, one hand sliding between their sweaty bodies to rub her swollen clit in tight, rough circles. “This pussy still know me.”

“Yesss!” she gasped, nails raking down his back hard. “Oh — fuuuck — yesss!”

He kissed her again, messy and desperate, swallowing her cries as he pounded into her harder. The door rattled violently behind her. The picture frame beside them crashed to the floor, glass shattering. 

Neither of them cared. 

He needed to undo her, and needed her to undo him right back.

Her walls gripped him like a vice, thighs locking tight as her whole body seized up. She wailed his name against his mouth, trembling uncontrollably. The feeling dragged Smoke right over the edge with her. He buried himself inside, hips stuttering as he flooded her with thick, hot pulses, groaning her name like a man finally coming home.

They stayed locked together, shaking, breathing ragged. For so long, every memory of her had ended with goodbye. This one didn’t. No more wondering where she’d gone. No replaying old memories until they blurred together. Just Annie, warm and real in his arms. He hadn’t realized how much of himself he’d left behind until he felt it return.

Smoke kissed her again; slowly, but no less desperate. His voice came out low and rough against her mouth, thick with hunger and love. “Look at me.”

She did.

“I wanna fuck you all day,” he muttered, hips giving a lazy roll that made her whimper. He was still buried deep, still hard and throbbing inside her. “I’m gon’ make you feel me for weeks. Make you cum until you can’t remember how to leave me again.”

Annie’s breath hitched hard.

“You gon’ let me have my way wit’ you?”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through her body, making her clench around him involuntarily. She was soaked, throbbing, and completely undone.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice still trembling. “You don’t have to hold it in anymore. Give it to me.”

Her words lit a fire in his eyes. That was all the permission he needed.

He kissed her hard. His sweats caught around one ankle as he kicked them off, nearly stumbling in the process. Annie laughed against his mouth, and he only held her tighter as he carried her toward the living room.

The second they crossed into the living room, he pulled out of her with a wet sound that made Annie whimper at the loss. He spun her around and bent her over the arm of the couch, yanking her hips back so her ass was presented to him like an offering. Her dress was bunched uselessly around her waist, panties ripped to the side, his thick cum leaking down her thighs.

Look at her, Smoke thought. Dripping of me. Still mine.

He dropped to his knees behind her, spread her plump cheeks wide, and buried his face deep between them without hesitation. His tongue dragged slowly from her swollen nub all the way up to her creamy hole, tasting their mixed release. 

Annie’s legs shook instantly.

“Mmm, you taste good, girl—” he groaned into her pussy, the vibration making her moan loud. He ate her like a man possessed — long, sloppy licks, tight sucks to her throbbing pearl, then tongue curling deep into her leaking center. He spread her wider, tongue reaching deeper, mouth covered with her juices running down his chin.

Annie was losing it. “Oh my God— Elijahhh! Right there, baby— don—don’t stop!”

And didn’t. 

He added two thick fingers, curling them just right while his mouth focused on her engorged clit, sucking and flicking relentlessly. The wet, obscene sounds of him eating her filled the room. He groaned against her pussy the whole time, like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of them together.

Annie’s thighs started trembling harder. “I’m— I’m—!”

She came with a broken sob, squirting against his tongue and soaking his face. Smoke didn’t pull away. He kept licking and fingering her through it, drawing out every last shudder until she was whimpering and twitching.

Only then did he pull back, line himself up, and slam into her in one ruthless stroke.

Annie cried out, fingers clawing at the couch cushions as he set a punishing rhythm. The slaps of skin on skin filled the room — shameless, loud… perfect.

“Oh shiiit,” he growled, one hand smacking down on her ass hard, the other hand gripping her braids like reins. “Pussy gripping me like it missed me.”

“She did, baby” Annie moaned, pushing back to meet his thrusts. “She missed you so fuckin’ much.”

He fucked her harder, hips snapping forward, balls slapping against her clit. The couch scraped across the floor with every powerful drive, knocking into the coffee table in front of them. Books tumbled. A remote clattered. A glass vase wobbled and nearly fell on the hardwood. 

They didn’t stop.

Annie came for the third time, walls squeezing him tight as she pushed back against him desperately. 

Before she could fully recover from the orgasm, Smoke pulled out of her, leaving Annie draped over the armrest, thighs trembling with his cum dripping down her legs. He sat down heavily on the leather couch, legs spread, his thick shaft hard and glistening. His eyes locked on her as he gave the low, rough command—

“Ride my dick.”

Annie turned around, still shaking and breathless, and climbed onto his lap without a second of hesitation. Her knees sank into the cushions as she sank down onto him in one smooth, greedy motion. She didn’t ease into it. She rode him — rolling her hips in sinful circles before bouncing with purpose.

Damn, Smoke thought, eyes glued to where they were joined, watching himself disappear inside her over and over. When the hell she learn to fuck like this?

Annie braced her hands on his chest, braids swinging wildly as she worked him. Her breasts bounced with every drop. She leaned forward, lips brushing his ear.

“You like that?” she purred, voice husky with challenge and need. “Feel how deep I’m takin’ you? 

She showin’ the fuck out, he thought, a dark spike of jealousy twisting with white-hot arousal. But he couldn’t deny how good it felt. His hands gripped her ass, guiding her faster.

Annie sat up straighter, planting her feet on the couch so she could move with purpose. The angle drew a broken sound from him, and for a moment triumph warmed her chest.

I thought about this every night, she thought. About making you forget everything, but me.

Then, uninvited, another thought slipped in.

Had Jada ever looked at him like this? Fucked him this good? Learned all his spots that make him straight-up fold?”

The questions stung almost as quickly as they came.

No.

She pushed them away.

Not now.

Tonight, the only thing she saw in his eyes was her.

Smoke watched her, his grip tightening instinctively at her hips as she moved above him. Something flickered across her face—so brief he almost missed it. Uncertainty. Gone as quickly as it appeared.

He stared up at her in quiet amazement. The shy girl whose cheeks would grow hot when he kissed her too long had disappeared. In her place was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

And what she wanted in this moment…

Was him.

He sat up slightly, one strong arm wrapping around her back to pull her closer. With his free hand, he shoved the bunched-up yellow dress higher up her torso, exposing more of her skin. The strapless bra she’d been wearing was already half-off — one cup pushed down from when he’d played with them earlier. Smoke quickly unclasped it and tossed it aside, fully freeing her breasts.

He lifted one heavy breast to his mouth, lips closing around her nipple as he sucked hard, tongue swirling and flicking over the sensitive peak. He switched to the other, giving it the same hungry treatment— sucking, licking, gently biting just enough to make her cry out.

Annie moaned loudly, her head falling back in pleasure. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him against her chest as she kept riding him, hips rolling and bouncing faster. “Yes— oh God, Elijah… just like that,” she whimpered, grinding down harder on him. “Don’t stop, baby… I love it.”

Smoke groaned against her soft, warm flesh, the vibration shooting through her body. He kept worshipping her breasts, palming their weight, squeezing, licking, and sucking while she rode him like she was trying to put a root on his soul.

“Fuck, Annie…” he groaned, against her breast, voice breaking. “Just like that, baby.”

That praise made her ride him even harder. The couch creaked dangerously beneath them. She rocked forward with one particularly enthusiastic bounce, and his instinctive reach for her threw them both off balance. They toppled over the side of the couch together, landing in a tangled heap on the rug, the breath rushing out of both of them.

That didn’t stop them.

Smoke came hard on the floor, burying himself and flooding her again while she clenched around him, milking every drop.

For half a minute, they could only stare.

Then Annie laughed.

It started as one startled sound before spilling into something bigger, brighter, until she was laughing so hard she had to hide her face against his shoulder. Smoke blinked at her before a laugh of his own escaped, low and rough, shaking loose from somewhere he hadn’t realized had been locked tight for years.

“Well…” she managed between breaths, “that was graceful.”

“Ain’t never claimed to be.”

She looked up at him then, really looked at him. The smile she’d been trying to hold back spread across her face, soft and impossibly familiar. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her laugh like that. Maybe because every memory after she’d left had ended too soon.

His own smile faded into something quieter as he brushed a braid back from her face.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted, almost too quietly to hear.

Annie’s smile softened. “I missed you.”

The laughter faded, leaving them wrapped in companionable quiet. They remained on the rug. For the first time since she’d knocked on his door, there was nothing to chase, nothing to prove. Just the two of them on the living room floor, exactly where they were supposed to be.

Their eyes met.

The smile on Annie’s lips slowly disappeared, replaced by something warmer, deeper. Smoke’s thumb traced along her cheek almost absentmindedly, and the room seemed to shrink until there was nothing left but the space between them.

The frantic edge between them softened, if only for a moment. He looked at her the way a man looks at something he’d spent years believing he’d never see again. She reached up and brushed her fingers across his face, and neither of them spoke. The silence said everything the last eight years never had. 

Then Smoke scooped her up and carried her toward the bedroom, kissing her slow and deep the whole way.

Smoke carried Annie straight to the bed. He laid her down like she was something precious, even as hunger burned in his eyes. For a moment, he just hovered over her breathing her in.

“I love you.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. “A nigga, never stopped lovin’ you. Not for one fuckin’ day.”

Annie stayed quiet. Instead her hand moved to his face, fingertips gliding over the line of his jaw as though she needed to make sure memory hadn’t lied to her all these years.

He closed his eyes instinctively.

A watery laugh escaped her. “You still do that.”

His brow furrowed. “Do what?”

“Close your eyes when I touch you.” She smiled through tears. “You always did.”

His own smile came quietly. “Guess some things don’t change.”

He brushed away the tear clinging to her cheek with his thumb.

A tender smile tugged at Annie’s lips. “You still do that too.”

“Do what?”

“You never wipe my tears away. You always… brush ‘em away. Like you scared you’ll hurt me.”

Smoke let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Guess I am.”

Annie held his gaze. “I know.” Her hand settled over his heart. “And I love you for it.”

His chest tightened.

She smiled, tears slipping free again. “I never stopped loving you either.”

Smoke didn’t say anything. He simply looked at her. Really looked at her. The years had added new stories to her face. There was a quiet confidence in her now that hadn’t been there at seventeen. She carried herself differently. She smiled at him. The left corner of her mouth lifted first just like it always had.

His own smile answered before he could stop it.

“What?” she asked softly.

“Nothin’.”

She smiled knowingly. “You starin’.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “I know.”

She laughed quietly. “You always did that.”

“Did what?”

“Just… look at me.” Her smile softened. “Like you were tryin’ to memorize me.”

He didn’t answer. He just kept looking.

Annie’s heart squeezed.

“See?” Another beat passed. “And then…” Her thumb brushed lightly across his jaw. “You get real quiet whenever your heart gets too full.”

His eyes searched hers. “You still know me.”

She smiled. “I never forgot you.”

The words settled between them. Annie lifted her hand and traced the faint scar that disappeared beneath his beard along his jaw.

“You didn’t have this one before.”

“No.”

“When?”

“A few years ago.”

Her thumb lingered there for a moment before drifting across his cheek. “You’ve got a few gray hairs.”

Smoke let out a surprised laugh. “Do I now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Her smile widened. “I kinda like ’em.”

He shook his head, smiling despite himself.

“I was worried,” she admitted quietly.

His expression softened. “About what?”

“That I’d built you up in my head.” Her eyes searched his face as if she were still making sure. “I kept wondering if I’d remember you wrong.”

He reached up and tucked a loose braid behind her ear. “And?”

A tear escaped before she could stop it. “I didn’t.” 

He caught her hand and kissed her palm. “And you still reach for my face first.”

She blinked. “I do?”

“Every time.”

She smiled, almost embarrassed. “I didn’t even realize.”

“You never did.”

Quiet fell between them as they took each other in. Their eyes wandered without hurry, tracing every familiar feature and every subtle change time had left behind. Some things were new. Others remembered. Still others simply rediscovered. Not because either of them had forgotten. But because after eight years apart, the real thing was infinitely better than the version memory had tried so desperately to preserve. 

Annie smiled first. It wasn’t the bright, teasing smile she’d worn as a teenager. It was quieter. Surer. The smile of a woman who no longer had to wonder whether the man she loved still loved her back.

She reached for his hand, threading their fingers together. “We’re really here,” she marveled, almost to herself.

Smoke nodded once. “Yeah.” His thumb stroked slowly across her knuckles. “No more goodbyes.”

Her eyes filled again, but this time she smiled through them. “No more.”

Annie leaned forward first, their noses brushing. They stayed like that for another heartbeat, neither of them in any hurry to rush what they’d waited so long to have.

Then she kissed him. Slow and certain. His mouth answered hers. Soft. Patient. Nothing like the frantic hunger that had consumed them earlier. His thumb traced lazy circles across the back of her hand while their lips moved together, each kiss lingering just a little longer than the last.

She smiled against his mouth. He smiled too, then he pulled back. Only an inch.

Annie frowned. “What?”

Smoke looked at her before lowering his eyes to where their fingers were still threaded together. His thumb stroked slowly across her knuckles.

“We can’t do this.”

Everything inside Annie dropped.

The smile disappeared from her face.

“What?”

Her mind immediately started racing.

What do you mean we can’t do this?

After everything?

After you carried me upstairs?

Nigga! After you just had your whole fuckin’ face in my—

Her stomach lurched.

Smoke looked back up just in time to watch every emotion flash across her face. Confusion, panic, and then hurt.

“Nah.” He squeezed her hand. “Not like that.”

Annie blinked.

He let out the smallest laugh. “I can see yo’ ass over there spiralin’.”

Heat rushed into her cheeks. “I wasn’t—”

“You was.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it again. “Maybe a little.”

The corner of his mouth lifted.

She let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Oh.” Now she felt ridiculous. “What do you mean, then?”

He exhaled quietly. “I mean…” His jaw flexed once before he finally found the words. “I don’t wanna keep lovin’ you the way we used to.”

Confusion flickered across her features. “We loved each other.”

“We did.”

“So…”

“Sooo we spent eight years missin’ each other because neither one of us knew how to ask hard questions.”

The words landed hard.

Smoke rubbed a hand across his face before looking back at her. “I keep thinkin’ about yesterday.”

Annie chest caved in thinking about the cookout.

He nodded. “I got mad.”

She looked down. “I know.”

“I ain’t talkin’ ’bout Isoo.”

She looked back up.

“I’m talkin’ about me.” He laughed once, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “I drove home tellin’ myself I knew what happened.” He looked at her. “I ain’t know a fuckin’ thing.”

Annie felt something tighten in her chest. “I didn’t either.”

He nodded slowly. “That’s the problem.”

Silence stretched between them. Unhurried. 

Necessary. 

Smoke turned her hand over, studying the lines in her palm as if they might tell him something the last eight years hadn’t. “Every time somethin’ got hard,” His thumb moved absentmindedly across her skin. “We start guessin’.”

Annie didn’t respond, because he was right. She’d guessed he stopped loving her. He’d guessed she’d moved on. She’d guessed he didn’t care enough to come after her. He’d guessed she was happier without him. Neither of them had actually known.

Smoke lifted his eyes to hers. “I don’t wanna guess no more.”

Her throat tightened. “Neither do I.”

He nodded once. “Before we,” he smiled faintly. “Before we make love again…”

Those two words alone made her pussy jump.

Not have sex.

Not fuck.

Make love.

“I think we owe ourselves the truth.”

Annie swallowed. She suddenly wasn’t sure she wanted it. The truth had a way of changing things. “What if,” she began quietly.

He waited.

“What if the truth hurts?”

Smoke didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached up and brushed a loose braid behind her ear. “It already has.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

He smiled sadly. “I don’t think it can hurt us worse than the years apart did.”

A tear escaped before she could stop it. She nodded. “Okay.”

Smoke took a slow breath. Then another. When he finally spoke, his voice had gone quieter than she’d ever heard it. “Tell me straight up… you never got ’em?”

Annie knew exactly what he meant. Her eyes filled almost instantly. “No.”

He didn’t move or blink. Just looked at her. Like he was searching for something.

Her forehead creased. “When, did you write?”

“Like a month after you left.”

Pause.

“Then the next week.”

Another pause.

“And the week after that.”

Annie stared at him.

“I wrote damn near every Sunday.”

Her lips parted.

“I never…” She shook her head slowly. “Elijah… I never got any letters.”

His shoulders lowered. Not in surprise. Almost…recognition. “You didn’t.”

She shook her head harder. “No.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “You know I would’ve answered.”

“I know.”

“I would’ve.”

“I know.”

“I would’ve written you every day if I’d known—”

“I know.”

The certainty in his voice stopped her. She searched his face. “You… believe me?”

A sad smile touched the corner of his mouth. “I know when you lyin’.” His thumb brushed slowly across her knuckles. “And this ain’t it.”

Another tear slipped down her cheek.

He looked away for a moment, his jaw working once before he spoke again. “I spent a long time tryin’ to convince myself you did.” His voice had gone quieter. “It hurt less than believin’ somethin’ happened to ’em.”

Silence fell between them. Neither of them knew what to do with eight years suddenly sitting between them.

Annie watched him. She could see him so clearly now. Seventeen years old. Sitting on the edge of his bed after another phone call. Wondering why she hadn’t said anything. Wondering if she’d read every word he’d poured onto those pages…and decided they weren’t worth answering.

The thought made her chest ache.

A question surfaced before she could stop it. “Then why didn’t you ask me?”

Smoke looked up.

“When we’d talk.” She frowned, trying to understand. “Why didn’t you just ask if I got ’em?”

For the first time since they’d started talking, something almost shy crossed his face. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was tryin’ to be romantic and shit.”

Despite everything, Annie let out the smallest laugh. “You?”

His shoulders lifted in an almost embarrassed shrug. “Stack.”

She blinked. “What about Stack?”

A corner of his mouth twitched. “He told me girls liked gettin’ letters.”

Another laugh escaped her. Of course he had. She could practically hear Stack saying it. “Trust me, bro. Bitches be eatin’ that shit up.”

Smoke huffed a quiet laugh of his own. “Said it’d make you smile.”

“It would’ve.” She answered so quickly neither of them had time to think about it.

His smile faded. “I know.”

He looked back down at their hands.

“At first, when you didn’t say nothin’…” He shrugged. “I figured maybe I messed up the address.” Another pause. “Or maybe I ain’t put enough stamps on it.”

Annie smiled sadly. 

“I dunno. I never mailed nothin’ before.”

She laughed through fresh tears.

A small smile returned to his face. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

His thumb continued its slow path across the back of her hand. “I didn’t wanna ruin it by askin’. So I waited.” His voice grew softer. “Figured it’d show up.” Another pause. “When it didn’t…” He swallowed. “I wrote another one.”

Annie felt her throat tighten.

“And when you still didn’t say nothin’…”

He looked away. “I was hopin’ maybe the mail was just slow.” A sad smile crossed his face. “So…” He shrugged again. “I wrote another one.”

She could picture it. Sunday after Sunday. Smoke sitting somewhere with a sheet of notebook paper. Trying to close the distance between Mississippi and North Carolina one page at a time.

“I kept thinkin’…” His voice almost disappeared. “The next one’ll get there.”

The tears she’d been holding back spilled over again.

“And after a while?” He laughed quietly at himself. “I figured…” He shook his head. “You prolly thought the shit was corny and just didn’t know how to tell me.”

Annie stared at him. Then reached up and cupped his face. “Elijah…” Her thumb brushed over his cheek. “I’ve been in love with you since I was fourteen.”

His eyes closed.

“There wasn’t a single thing you could’ve written…” Her voice cracked. “…that I would’ve thought was corny.”

Smoke covered her hand with his.

The room fell quiet. Neither knowing what to say.

Then—

Annie covered her mouth with her hand. 

“Oh God…” 

Her thoughts scattered in every direction at once. Letters. There had been letters. Letters she’d never seen. That couldn’t be right. Could it?

She squeezed her eyes shut, reaching backwards through memories she’d spent years trying not to touch. The mailbox. Her mother always checking it first. 

Smoke watched as something began to unfold across her face. He hated what he was about to ask. But if they were doing this, being honest with one another.

They were doing all of it.

“Did your mama ever like me?” He asked quietly.

The question landed like a stone.

Annie opened her mouth automatically. “Of course she—” The words stopped. 

Because…

Did she?

She thought about every Sunday afternoon Elijah would come over. Her mama had always been polite. Always smiling.

But…

There had always been something underneath it. Little comments Annie had dismissed at seventeen because they’d sounded less like warnings and more like motherly advice.

You don’t need to get too serious this young.”

“Don’t build your whole world around a boy.”

“That boy’s handsome, Anissa. Girls are always gonna be after somebody that looks like him.”

“Just… don’t be surprised if one day he realizes he got options.”

At the time, they’d sounded…practical. Protective. The kind of things mothers were supposed to say. She’d never questioned them. Why would she? She’d trusted her mama. And if she was honest…She’d already believed some of them.

Annie had never voiced how much that scared her. Instead, she’d smiled and quietly wondered how long it would take before he realized he could do better.

“I…” Her voice broke. “I don’t know.”

Smoke didn’t say, I knew it. He didn’t say, She threw them away. He simply reached over and took her hand again. “Think about it.”

Annie lowered her head. “I am.”

“I know.”

Annie looked down at their joined hands.

As time passed, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Everything she’d believed for eight years felt… unsteady. Not that she’d stopped trusting herself. It was because she wasn’t sure where her own thoughts ended and someone else’s began.

“I think…” Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “I think I already believed some of it.”

Smoke frowned. “Believed what?”

She swallowed hard. “That one day…” She laughed softly, shaking her head at herself. “…you’d realize you could do better than me.”

Smoke stared at her with complete disbelief. “Annie…”

She couldn’t look at him. “You’ve always been…” She searched for the words. “Beautiful.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“You probably don’t even know it.”

“I don’t.”

“You didn’t have to.” A watery smile touched her mouth before disappearing just as quickly. “Everybody else knew.”

Memories came rushing back. Girls hovering around his locker. Finding excuses to borrow pencils they didn’t need. Laughing a little too hard at shit that wasn't funny. Standing just a little too close.

“I used to watch girls look at you.” Her fingers tightened around his. “I’d pretend it didn’t bother me.”

His chest ached.

“I’d smile.”

She blinked away another tear. “And then I’d go home and wonder how long it’d be before you noticed one of ’em back.”

Smoke let out the smallest, saddest laugh. “Ann…”

“No.” She shook her head. “Let me finish.”

He nodded.

“When Mama would say things…” Annie’s eyes went towards the window. “About you being handsome. About girls always chasing boys like you. To not build my whole life around somebody…” She sighed. “I thought she was preparing me.”

“For what?”

She finally looked at him. “For the day you left.”

The words hung between them.

“So when the calls got shorter…”

Smoke’s expression changed.

“When we didn’t talk every night anymore…”

His thumb slowed against her hand.

“When days started passing instead of hours.” She shrugged helplessly. “I figured…” Her voice cracked. “…maybe it was happening.”

Smoke closed his eyes. “Bae…”

She shook her head. “I didn’t blame you.”

That surprised him. “I blamed me.”

His eyes opened wide.

“I thought…” She laughed through tears. “Maybe Mama was right.”

His stomach twisted.

“‘Cause why wouldn’t a boy that looked like you eventually find somebody prettier?”

He reached for her face before he even knew he was moving. His palm cupped her cheek. “Woman. Listen to me.”

She met his eyes.

“I ain’t never looked for nobody prettier.”

Fresh tears slipped down her face.

“There wasn’t nobody prettier.”

He smiled sadly. “There still ain’t.”

She closed her eyes. They didn’t speak. The moment was heavy with truths they’d never been brave enough to say when they were seventeen.

Annie covered her mouth as another tear slipped free. She opened her eyes again and stared down at their joined hands, trying to make sense of a past that no longer looked the way she’d remembered it. Every certainty she’d carried for years had begun to crack. His silence. The unanswered calls. The empty mailbox. Her mother’s gentle reassurances. 

None of it fit together anymore.

His thumb continued its slow path across the back of her hand, the same absentminded stroke he’d always done whenever she was overwhelmed. Seventeen-year-old Annie would’ve smiled without thinking. 

Twenty-five-year-old Annie nearly broke because he still remembered.

She drew a shaky breath. “There…” She laughed softly through the tears. “There’s something I still don’t understand.”

Smoke lifted his eyes to hers. “What?”

She drew in a shaky breath. “I believe you.”

Smoke looked at her. 

“About the letters.” She squeezed his hand. “You never stopped lovin’ me.”

His thumb brushed over her knuckles.

“Thinkin’ I was the prettiest girl in the world.”

A small smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “You are.”

Annie smiled through fresh tears before it slowly faded. “But…” She searched his face. “There’s still one thing I don’t understand.”

Smoke nodded. “Ask me.”

She hesitated. “I understand movin’ on.”

His expression softened.

“Eight years…” She shook her head. “That’s a long time.” Another breath. “I would’ve never expected you to spend your whole life waitin’ on me.”

“I just…”

Her fingers tightened around his. Then she blurted it out.

“Why Jada?”

Smoke looked down. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to answer. It was because he’d wondered the same thing himself more than once.

“I didn’t start datin’ Jada after you left.”

Annie stared.

“Shit…” A humorless laugh escaped him. “I didn’t really date nobody.”

“You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Not seriously.”

She blinked.

“I wasn’t lookin’.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I worked. Spent time with Stack, Mike, Mama, and Uncle Lewis. Lived my life.” He paused. “I missed you.” His thumb traced absent circles against the back of her hand. “Years passed.”

Neither of them spoke.

Then…

“Jada didn’t come around till later.” He sighed. “She just…” he shrugged. “Kept showin’ up.”

Annie listened quietly.

“We’d run into each other at job sites. She’d call and ask if I wanted to grab somethin’ to eat. I’d say no.” A faint smile crossed his face. “Then she’d ask again and again.” His smile disappeared. “Eventually…” He looked down at their hands. “I got tired of sayin’ no.”

“I figured maybe…” He swallowed. “Maybe this was what movin’ on was supposed to look like.”

Annie watched him carefully.

“But it never felt right.” He laughed softly. “I kept waitin’ on it to.”

Her heart squeezed. She hesitated before asking the question that had lived inside her since yesterday.

“You knew she liked you.”

Smoke frowned. “What?”

“You knew.”

She searched his face. “Even back then.”

His expression changed.

“I told you.” Annie paused. “I told you I couldn’t stand her.”

Smoke nodded slowly. “You did.”

“So why didn’t you ask me why?”

His shoulders dropped. “I don’t know.”

“No,” She squeezed his hand gently. “You do.”

They simply looked at each other, saying nothing.

Finally…

“’Cause I thought it was some female bullshit.”

Annie closed her eyes.

“I thought y’all just didn’t get along over some petty girl shit.” He shook his head at himself. “She said this.’ ‘She said that.’ I never stopped to think there might’ve been more to it.” He looked ashamed. “I never thought to ask.”

Annie nodded once. “No, you didn’t.” Her voice wasn’t angry. Just sad. A sadness that sounded older than either of them.

“When you’d walk away…”

Smoke looked up.

“She’d wait until you couldn’t hear.”

His brow furrowed.

“Then she’d come stand beside me.”

He stayed quiet, listening.

“She always smiled.” A humorless laugh slipped from Annie. “Always.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, following memories she’d spent years trying not to revisit.

“At first I thought she was just bein’ nice.” She swallowed. “‘Y’all are so cute together,’ she’d say.”

Smoke frowned.

“‘You’re lucky he noticed you first.’”

His expression sobered.

“‘You know Smoke could have anybody he wanted, right?’”

The weight of what had been said settled over them both.

Annie laughed again, though there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “And when I wouldn’t say nothin’,” she looked down at their joined hands. “She’d smile, then say… ‘I’m just sayin’… don’t take him for granted.’”

Smoke’s jaw flexed.

“Then she’d tell me college was gonna be full of prettier girls.” Annie blinked hard against another wave of tears. “What if you met women who were smarter than me?”

Another pause.

“More accomplished.” Her voice grew smaller. “Better.”

Smoke just stared at her. She watched the pieces come together one by one.

“I thought…” She laughed through a shaky breath. “I thought she was tellin’ me the truth.”

His chest tightened. “Annie…”

“Then Mama…” She stopped. The words caught somewhere behind her ribs.

Smoke waited.

“She’d say similar things.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Not mean.” Annie shook her head. “She thought she was protectin’ me.” She looked away. “Again with the.. ‘don’t build your whole world around a boy.’” A tear slipped down her cheek. “‘Boys like them twins have a lotta choices.’”

Another.

“‘Don’t be the girl sittin’ around waitin’ on some pretty boy to remember you.’”

Smoke closed his eyes. “Anissa…”

“I didn’t hear two different people.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “I heard the same thing.” She looked back at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “Over and over and over.” A painful smile crossed her face. “So when your calls got farther apart.” She shrugged helplessly, voice breaking. “I thought everybody else already knew somethin’ I didn’t.”

Smoke didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He reached for her instead, cupping both sides of her face. His thumbs brushed away tears that refused to stop falling. 

“No.” The word came immediately. Certain. “I never—not one day—thought I could do better than you.”

He rested his forehead against hers.

“I thought I was the lucky one.”

Annie blinked. “What?”

His thumb brushed her cheek. “You beautiful.” Another slow stroke. “Funny as fuck.” His eyes searched hers. “And when you walk in a room, it be like the sun decided to come with you.”

Tears welled in Annie’s eyes.

“It still do.” He hesitated, then—

“Seventeen-year-old me…” He smiled faintly. “He couldn’t believe the prettiest girl he’d ever seen wanted him.” His eyes glistened. “Twenty-six-year-old me still can’t.”

Annie closed her eyes. His words didn’t erase eight years. They didn’t erase every lie she’d slowly learned to believe. But they did something she’d never expected. They gave those lies another voice to compete with.

Elijah’s.

And for the first time…his voice was louder.

She opened her eyes again. “I wish I’d told you.”

“I wish you’d had too.” He shook his head. “I should’ve been payin’ attention.”

She frowned. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should’ve asked.” His voice was steady now. “When you told me you didn’t like her…” He let out a slow breath. “I chalked it up to girl stuff.” He shook his head at himself. “I thought y’all just didn’t click.” Another pause. “I should’ve asked why.”

Annie searched his face. “You would’ve believed me?”

He looked almost offended by the question. “I would’ve believed you.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “I just wish I’d given you the chance to tell me.”

Annie wiped his tears away. They were finally saying the things they should’ve said eight years ago. 

After a while, Annie laughed softly through her tears. “We really been two dumbass fools since we was seventeen.”

A smile tugged at Smoke’s mouth. “The dumbest.”

She nodded. “So dumb.”

He lifted their joined hands and pressed a lingering kiss against her knuckles. 

“But we ain’t no more.”

For the first time since the conversation began, they both laughed together. The weight of finally understanding each other had made room for something lighter.

Annie looked at him again. “There's one more thing.”

“What?”

“You said you wrote me every Sunday.”

“I did.”

“How do you remember that?”

Smoke’s smile faded into something softer. Something almost shy. He looked down for a moment before meeting her eyes again.

“Because I still got ‘em.’”

Annie blinked. “What?”

He looked up again. “The letters.”

Her heart skipped. “You… still have them?”

A small, almost embarrassed smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He nodded. “Not the ones I mailed.”

She frowned, trying to understand. “Then…”

“The drafts.”

“The drafts?”

Another nod. “I wrote ’em in a notebook first.”

She stared at him. “You made drafts?”

A quiet laugh escaped him. “I had to.”

He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “You know my handwritin’s shit.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was.”

His smile lingered for only a second before fading. “My hands…” His fingers flexed unconsciously against hers. “They’d start shakin’ when I got frustrated.”

Annie felt her chest tighten. She remembered. He didn’t like talking about it, but she’d seen it. The way he’d grip a pencil a little harder whenever a test got difficult. How he’d tuck one hand into the pocket of his hoodie after getting called on in class. In the afternoons she’d quietly slide his notebook closer to herself without saying a word whenever his frustration got the better of him. She’d never thought much about it then.

It was simply part of Elijah.

“I’d write somethin’,” he continued quietly, “fuck it up…” A faint smile crossed his face. “Get pissed and tear the page out.” He looked down again. “Start over.” Another pause. “Eventually I started usin’ a notebook.” He shrugged. “It was easier, I could scratch stuff out without wastin’ paper.” His thumb continued its absentminded path over the back of her hand. “Once I figured out what I wanted to say…” He smiled to himself. “I’d copy it onto the good paper.”

Annie could see it—him at the little desk in his bedroom. Head bent low. Tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek the way it always had whenever he concentrated. Writing. Crossing out. Starting over. Trying to fit an entire week’s worth of missing her onto a few sheets of notebook paper.

“They’re all still there?” 

His eyes met hers. “Every one.”

She swallowed hard. “I can’t believe you kept them.”

He was quiet for so long she wondered if he’d answer at all.

Finally—

“I couldn’t throw ’em away.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “They was still you.”

The words stole the breath from her lungs. They sounded exactly like Elijah. Simple and honest. As though there had never been another answer.

Annie broke. They weren’t loud sobs. Just quiet, aching tears as she reached for him again, wrapping both arms around him like she was trying to hold together all the years they’d lost.

“I wanna read them.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I know.”

The room had gone quiet again. 

Smoke glanced toward the closet. “I’ll be right back.”

Annie frowned. “Where you goin’?”

“You’ll see.”

He slipped out of the bed, completely unconcerned by his nakedness.

Annie wasn’t.

Her eyes followed him.

Lord…

Eight years hadn’t been nearly enough time to prepare her for seeing Elijah Moore naked in broad daylight. The muscles across his back rolled as he walked toward the closet, every movement easy and unhurried, as though he hadn’t just turned her entire world upside down.

She smiled to herself. Still beautiful. Maybe even more than he’d been at seventeen. 

He disappeared into the walk-in closet for a moment. She heard the faint scrape of something being moved across a shelf.

A box.

Another.

Then—

“There you are.”

He emerged carrying an old black spiral notebook. The corners were bent. The cover had long since faded to more gray than black. He climbed back onto the bed without a word and settled beside her again. For a second, he simply looked at it. His thumb brushed absently over the worn cover. Then he held it out.

Annie looked from the notebook to him. “These are the drafts.”

Her heart skipped. Carefully, she took it from him. The cardboard cover bent softly beneath her fingers. It wasn’t heavy. But somehow it felt like it. She opened it. The first page was messy. Crossed-out words. Half-finished sentences. Entire paragraphs scribbled through before beginning again underneath.

She smiled. “You really weren’t lyin’ about your handwriting.”

Smoke groaned. “I told you.”

She laughed. “It’s terrible.”

“I know.”

“But…” Her thumb traced over one of the scratched-out lines. “It’s kinda adorable.”

Heat crept into the tips of his ears. He looked away.

Annie smiled to herself. She’d almost forgotten. Elijah still blushed. She turned the page. At the top, in careful block letters, he’d written: Sunday. No date. Just… Sunday. 

Below it—

Hey Pretty Girl…

The words had been crossed out.

Underneath them—

Hey Annie…

Crossed out again.

Then—

I don’t know how to start these.

Her chest tightened. She kept reading.

Church was long as fuck today.

Pastor Johnson preached fo’ almost an hour and Stack fell asleep halfway through, snorin’ like a muthafucka. Mama smacked him in the back of his head. I laughed. 

She smacked me too.

Annie laughed quietly.

Smoke rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot that was in there.”

She kept reading.

Today Stack made fun of me ‘cause I looked over every time somebody laughed. He said I keep thinkin’ it’s you. I told him to shut his bitch ass up.

…He wasn’t wrong tho.

Aunt Cheryl made gumbo tonight. She packed me enough for three days. I almost asked if I could freeze some for when you came home.

Guess I ain’t used to sayin’ “North Carolina” yet.

Her smile faltered.

Another page.

You would’ve liked the storm tonight. It sounded like the one that knocked our power out sophomore year. I still remember you bein’ scared of the thunder. You said you wasn’t scared.

You was lyin’.

A tear landed on the page. She laughed as she wiped it away. “I was not.”

“You absolutely was.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You climbed in my lap.”

“Why you lyin?”

“You definitely did.”

She smiled through fresh tears. “I was cold.”

Smoke looked at her. “Mhm.”

She bumped his shoulder. “Don’t start.”

A grin flickered across his face before disappearing again.

She turned another page. This one had fewer cross-outs. His handwriting looked steadier.

More confident.

I keep thinkin’ you’ll call tonight. Every time the phone rings, my heart starts actin’ stupid. I hate that Stack notices. He don’t say nothin’ tho.

He just hands me the phone.

I keep catchin’ myself savin’ things to tell you. Stuff Aunt Cheryl says. Things that happened at school. Songs on the radio. Little things that ain’t important to nobody else. Then I remember you ain’t here.

So I guess I’ll tell you next Sunday instead.

Annie covered her mouth. “Wow...”

She hadn’t known. She hadn’t known any of it. Every page was another version of Elijah she’d never gotten to meet. The boy who noticed sunsets because she would’ve liked them. Who saved funny stories all week because he wanted to tell her. Who missed her so much he wrote about ordinary things just to make her feel like she was still part of his days.

She looked over at him. He hadn’t said a word. Just watched her. Waiting. Almost nervously. As though he wasn’t sure what she’d think. She reached over and threaded her fingers through his—without looking away from the notebook.

“I would’ve answered every one.”

His eyes closed. “I know.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think you do.”

Another page. 

Another Sunday.

Another week he’d loved her.

Another conversation they’d never gotten to have.

Annie’s fingers rested against the worn cover for a long moment before she gently closed the notebook. Neither of them reached for it again. It had answered the question she’d been carrying for eight years.

He’d written her every Sunday she’d been gone. Neither of them spoke. Nothing else needed proving.

Annie turned toward him. Smoke was already looking at her. He hadn’t asked what she thought of the letters. He hadn’t needed to. Somehow, he’d always known her well enough to read the answers on her face. 

Her hand lifted almost without thinking. Her fingertips found his cheek, tracing it slowly, memorizing him again.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

His brow furrowed. “For what?”

She smiled through the tears still clinging to her lashes. “For never stoppin’.”

“Never knew how.”

Smoke’s thumb caressed the back of her hand. 

“So…”

“So.” Annie smiled. 

He looked down for a second. “You goin’ back to NC?”

A beat.

She nodded. “I have to.”

His jaw flexed once. “When?”

“Tuesday. I got work on Thursday.”

Another quiet beat.

Annie watched him carefully. “You think we can do this?”

His head came up immediately. “I know we can.”

She smiled. “We couldn’t at seventeen.”

“We ain’t seventeen no more.” 

He said it so simply it almost made her laugh.

“I ain’t lettin’ distance make decisions for us again.”

Another pause.

“If somethin’ bother you…” He squeezed her hand. “You tell me.”

“I will.”

“If I say I’m writin’ you…” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m tellin’ yo’ ass this time.”

She laughed. “Good.”

“‘Cause I ain’t losin’ you to the United States Postal Service again.”

She laughed harder. “I know that's right.”

He smiled too, but it faded into something quieter. “I’ll come see you.”

“What?” She blinked. 

“I’ll come to North Carolina.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

His answer came without hesitation.

“And you’ll come back here.”

“I will.” She nodded. 

“We’ll figure the rest out.” He shrugged one shoulder. “One week at a time if we gotta.”

“So…” Annie stared at him, while smiled through tears. “We’re really doin’ this?”

Smoke looked at her like the answer had never been in doubt. “I thought I already asked.”

Her brows knit together. “When?”

“When I told you I never stopped lovin’ you.”

Her breath caught.

“‘Cause I wasn’t askin’ you to remember me.” His hand found her cheek. “I was askin’ if I could love you again.”

She didn’t answer with words. She leaned forward and kissed him.

When they finally separated, Annie glanced down at the notebook still resting in her lap. Carefully, she closed it and set it on the nightstand. Neither of them reached for it again. They would later. There were still pages left to read. More Sundays to reclaim.

The notebook had given her eight years back. Now she wanted the years ahead.

Smoke watched her for a long moment before lifting a hand to her face. His fingertips brushed a curl away from her cheek, lingering there as though he still couldn’t quite believe she was real.

Annie leaned into his touch without thinking.

“Come here,” he murmured.

She smiled softly. “I’m already here.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Closer.”

She shifted against him until there wasn’t any space left between them. His arms settled around her almost instinctively, and for a while neither of them spoke. They simply lay there, breathing the same air, listening to the quiet rhythm of each other’s heartbeat.

Annie tipped her face up first. Their mouths met in an unhurried kiss. Slow and familiar, as though they finally had all the time eight years had stolen from them. Annie melted against him, her fingers wandering through the short curls at the back of his head while his hand drifted lazily along her spine.

She lay against his chest, smiling into another kiss. They’d spent the morning relearning each other again.

Now…

They simply wanted to be closer.

Annie didn’t wait long before desire took over again. She broke the kiss.

Smoke smiled against her mouth. “What?” he asked quietly.

“Nothin’,” she whispered. She kissed him one more time before pulling away.

Annie stood up in front of the bed, eyes never leaving his. With a slow, knowing smile, she reached up and pulled the elastic from her hair. The ponytail, already hanging on by a thread, gave way instantly, her curls tumbling around her shoulders and down her back. She raked her fingers through them once before pushing the ruined yellow dress the rest of the way down her body, letting it pool at her feet.

The ripped panties followed, sliding down her thighs until she stepped out of them completely. She stood there fully naked, letting him look at her. Breasts heaving, skin marked from his mouth and hands, thighs still shiny with their earlier combined release.

Smoke forgot to breathe as he watched her. She never broke eye contact, staring right back at him with pure love and heat.

Annie climbed onto the bed like a woman on a mission. Smoke sat up straighter. His manhood followed. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her full breasts swayed heavily with every movement, nipples still hard from his earlier attention. Her hips switched seductively from side to side as she crawled toward him, ass up, back arched just enough to make his mouth water. He noticed everything. The way her braids fell over one shoulder, the soft jiggle of her body with each movement. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

She pushed him onto his back and crawled between his legs, eyes locked on his with pure love and wicked intent. Starting at his chest, she kissed her way down his body. Slow, open-mouthed kisses over his abs, his hips, until she reached his thick length.

She wrapped her fingers around him and took him into her mouth with zero hesitation.

“Fuck, Annie…” Smoke groaned, head falling back as she sank down, taking him deep on the first try. She was wet, messy, and worshipful with it— spit dripped down his shaft as she bobbed her head on his lap, hollowing her cheeks with strong suction, tongue swirling around the head before taking him deep again. One hand twisted at the base while the other gently massaged his balls.

Who is this woman? he wondered, awestruck. The girl he remembered had giggled nervously, looking up at him with shy eyes. “You want me to put my mouth where?” she’d whispered with innocent disbelief.

Now she was swallowing him whole. 

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, voice rough and loving as he fisted her braids gently. “Suck that muthafuka. Just like that.”

Annie moaned loudly around him, the vibration making his toes curl. She took him even deeper, relaxing her throat until her nose pressed against him, holding there while humming. She was confident, greedy, and completely focused on pleasing him.

Smoke’s grip tightened in her braids, thighs shaking. “Fuck, baby… I love you. Love this mouth. Love how youuu… Shiiiit, you gon’ make me lose it.”

Before he could, he gently pulled her off him, his eyes wild with lust and devotion. “Nah, come here.”

He flipped their positions and laid her gently on her back. For a little while, he just hovered over her, eyes locked on hers. Then he pushed her legs back slowly, folding her open, and sank into her with one smooth, deep stroke until their hips met.

A soft, shared moan filled the space between them.

Smoke didn’t rush. He rolled his hips in long, deliberate circles, grinding deep so the thick head of his dick rubbed firmly against that sensitive spot inside her with every slow thrust. His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers gently tangled in her braids, while his other palm slid down her side, cupping her breast and brushing his thumb across her nipple.

Annie’s breath hitched. Her walls fluttered around him as she tilted her hips to meet each stroke, taking him even deeper. Her fingers traced the muscles of his back, nails lightly scratching as pleasure built in waves.

He leaned down until they were brow to brow, their breathing mingling hot and ragged. “I love you,” he breathed against her lips, his voice cracking with raw emotion as he stroked her deep. “Annie… you my home. My peace. My everything. I’m never letting you go again.”

He kissed her slow and deep, tongue sliding against hers in time with his hips. Every thrust was unhurried, a steady push and grind that made her toes curl and her thighs tremble around his waist. He watched her face the whole time: the way her eyes fluttered, the little gasp when he angled just right, the way her lips parted on a soft moan. He adjusted slightly, pressing deeper, making sure every movement dragged perfectly against her.

Annie whimpered into his mouth, legs tightening around him as she rocked up to meet him. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She held him closer, bodies pressed flush, skin slick with sweat.

“I love you too,” she breathed between kisses, voice shaking with emotion and building pleasure. “I’m never leaving you again. Aaah—don’t stop… just like this.”

He kissed her tears away, then captured her mouth in a slow, passionate kiss as he kept that deep, steady rhythm. Every roll of his hips pressed against her sex. Every thrust dragged along that sensitive spot inside her. His hands roamed—one cupping her breast, thumb brushing her nipple, the other gripping her hip to hold her right where he wanted her. 

The pleasure built gradually. Annie’s moans grew breathier, her nails gently scratching down his back as she met every thrust. Smoke groaned into her mouth, each kiss interrupted by another hushed confession.

“That’s it, baby… feel me. Feel how deep I am. This is us. This is home.”

Their bodies moved together in perfect sync. Slow, sensual, and incredibly intimate. Skin against skin. Hearts pounding in time. The connection was electric and tender all at once. When they finally came, it was together — intense, soul-shaking waves that left them trembling and clinging to each other, letting quiet “I love yous” over and over as pleasure and love crashed through them.

After a long while, Smoke stood on shaky legs, grabbed her hand, and led her to the bathroom. He ran a warm shower, steam filling the small space, then stepped in with her, holding her close under the spray.

The water cascaded over them, washing away sweat and the lingering traces of their morning and afternoon, but the marks remained on her throat, scratches down his back, fingerprints bruised into her hips. Smoke took a soft washcloth, soaped it, and began cleaning her with heartbreaking tenderness.

He stood beneath the spray for a moment, his hands resting lightly at her waist as warm water ran over them both. The room had gone quiet except for the steady rhythm of the shower. He smiled to himself, almost disbelievingly.

She was here.

He started with her face, wiping away tear tracks, then moved lower. When he reached between her legs, Annie winced softly—sore, swollen, thoroughly used.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asked worried, voice gentle, kissing her temple.

“No,” she smiled through the ache. “Besides, you said I was gonna feel you for weeks.”

He smirked cockily, “I did say that, huh?”

While he carefully cleaned her sensitive folds with slow, gentle strokes of the warm cloth, his fingers brushing her with painstaking care, memories washed over Annie. She shivered beneath his touch.

Her on top. Reverse cowgirl. Pussy swallowing him deep while he couldn’t do anything, but take it. A soft moan escaped her. Smoke noticed, eyes darkening with fresh heat even as he stayed gentle.

“You thinkin’ about how I had you against the dresser?” he murmured, voice low and loving. “Had your legs over my arms, fucking you so deep while you bit my neck?”

Annie nodded, leaning into him. She reached for her washcloth and returned the favor, washing his chest, his abs, then carefully washing him with the same loving care he’d shown her. “I love you, Elijah.”

He pulled her flush against him under the water and kissed her. “I love you more than anythin’. We lost too much time. Never again, tho.”

They stayed in the shower long after they were clean, just holding each other, trading soft kisses and quiet vows, letting the water soothe sore muscles and heal old wounds.

Wrapped in towels, Annie helped Elijah change the linens, and then they collapsed back into the bed. Annie sprawled across his chest, tracing lazy circles over his heart.

Smoke pressed a kiss to the top of her braids. 

“By the way… Hi.”

Annie laughed, soft, wrecked, and full of love. She kissed the spot over his heart.

“Hi.”

End Note: Well… That’s it y’all! 🥹 This was the chapter I’ve been working toward from the very beginning. The one that’s lived in my head (and stressed me out 😭) for longer than I’d like to admit. I rewrote parts of it more times than I can count because I wanted to make sure I got it right. I hope I did! 😬 Thank you for taking this journey with Smoke and Annie. Thank you for your patience, your comments, your theories, your excitement, and for loving these two as much as I do. 💜

I think I’ll do an Epilogue where we go 5-10 years in the future to see where our fav couple is now. What do y’all think? 🥰

Tag List:

@partylikemajima @brownskincheyenne @lizbehave @anniensmoke3 @margepimpson @brownsugarcoffy @aellesa @lilblckraincloud @hdfen2474 @magnifique2be @chromexbarbie @loveabledovee @milkywayzard @katezy2x @nicanotnika @wakandamama @numb1smokeanniestan @sunshinerepublic @pennopencil @shereeluvssinners @chknnwffls @underated345-blog @thefutureemmywinner @shamansha @tnychellee @blue4everrsworld @girlmath101 @bananajoeclone @ayishia101 @summrsovrinterlude @mmbee675 @lestatthelioncourt @nyifly22 @storiesbyasl @thebumblebeesworld @thedutifulone @dealore @cocoagadgetsworld @hotebonynearby @sighsrollseyes @atpeaceinthestars @saralance03 @miss-spiders-sunny-patch @imqueenmelanin @cardi-bre91 @soufcakmistress @charmedthoughts @waitingtobreatheagain

[urbnnoir]

I’m just so excitedddddddd

[urbnnoir]

They over there on TikTok being messy saying Damson didn’t get the role of T’Challa son because MBJ is Ryan right hand man and Damson dated the love of his life 😭

[rocktheholygrail]

The Vampire Lestat (2026)

[urbnnoir]

Okay so I’ve been thinking about this…a story set when Smoke and Stack was separated. Smoke stayed home with Annie while she pregnant while Stack and Mary went on to do whatever they do …okay sooo boom while Stack and Mary was gone… Mary came across a John that turned her into a vampire which then turned stack into one too….okokok. Stack and Mary come back home to Clarksdale and somehow they convinced Smoke and pregnant Annie to become vampires too and now they just vampire family with a vampire hybrid kid (is that possible though? Would the kid be considered a dhampir?)

[urbnnoir]

Anddddd another thing why the hell would Claudia want to talk to Louis, when that man was sleeping with her killer???? Once again choosing someone else over her which why she hated him so much 😭😭

[urbnnoir]

“You weren’t even my favorite” …well damn Claudia 😭

[urbnnoir]

Louis could do whatever to Lestat and he’ll still love and be there for him

[harrystarks]

The Vampire Lestat: One Night Only - LIVE at the Beacon Theatre via katyatolstova

[lizbehave]

Black Rain

A gritty, Neo-noir crime drama that explores themes of morality, brotherhood, and love.

An alternate universe where twin brothers Elijah “Smoke” and Elias “Stack” Moore never return to Mississippi after World War I. Instead, they make a name for themselves during the height of the Harlem Renaissance, where number slips and jazz clubs fuel dreams. But when Smoke becomes enamored by a mysterious woman from New Orleans, he decides he wants to leave the game for good. Contains: Explicit language, sexual content, drugs, violence, death, themes of love, loyalty, morality, and family.

Prologue

In 1917, Elijah and Elias Moore left the cotton fields of Clarksdale, Mississippi and never looked back.

With just the clothes on their backs they made their way to Manhattan, where they enlisted and shipped off with the 369th Infantry Regiment. 

The Black Rattlers. 

The Harlem Hellfighters. 

191 days of front-line combat. Of trenches. Of gunfire and grenades. It changed them. But the Moore twins were carved by violence long before they set foot on European soil.

Their father used to beat them. Regularly. Mercilessly. From the time they were too young and weak to fight back. Then one day the pendulum swung. A sudden, bloody shift where the students finally outmastered their teacher. 

So they took a train up north.

By the time they came back from the war, they swore they’d never go back to Mississippi. Not to the cotton fields, not to sharecropping, not to their father’s shadow, and not to the klan or Jim Crow breathing down their necks. 

Harlem was where it was at. It was glittering, alive, musical, brilliant. It was expanding, demanding, thriving. Becoming. It was the Black Mecca of the north. Some folks called it a Negro Renaissance. A revival. 

Others would say it’s what should have been all along, but it never had the soil or sunlight to survive. Literati, intelligentsia, poets, physicians, engineers, singers, musicians, librarians—thinkers. Black folks in Harlem had the space to exist and expand.

The twins hustled from Central Harlem to Hamilton Heights. They joined the numbers racket in the 1920’s— providing enforcement, protection, punishment. 

They earned their nicknames in muscle, grit, and gunplay— 

The SmokeStack Twins. 

Smoke was the controlled violence, the calm hand. Stack was social violence with a smile.

Now more than a decade later they were flourishing. From 135th, to 155th, to the Hudson River— Hamilton Heights was their playground. 

And Sugar Hill was where they called home.

Taglist: @myheartsaysyes @theethighpriestess

Soooo what y'all think so far? Is this something you'd like to see me continue? 😬 Drop an opinion in the comments.

[urbnnoir]

soooooo I just finished watching Interview with a Vampire … and I understand the Stack x Louis pairing … shittttt throw in Lestat for some some razzle dazzle 🤪

[waitingtobreatheagain]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 3٠࣪⭑

Summary: Annie finds out maybe her intuition is too strong. Smoke prepares to see Annie for the first time in seven years. He knew his wife and daughter would be home. How does he react to an unexpected visitor?

C/W: angst, cussing, the girls (men) are fighting, dual pov, canon compliant

A/N: The confrontation everyone has been waiting for. The first of many tbh. No beta so there may be a typo/grammatical error here and there.

Word Count: 9K (funny enough this was supposed to be 6K😅😅)

Divider credit: MDNI @cafekitsune ; gradient divider @cursed-carmine

Annie had made her famous gumbo and fried catfish to welcome her friends into her home after months of just missing each other due to life getting in the way. Not intentionally or not for lack of trying. She would see Grace at Chow’s, the store she ran with her husband, Bo; Therise, when she would have just enough time to purchase a blend, powder, or tea from Annie’s store; or Pearline, when she was bringing the house down with a performance when Annie would make her way out to the local juke. They always promised to make plans to get together but their schedules had not aligned, until tonight.  

Her house was filled with an aroma that had permeated the soul in a way that only recipes inherited and passed down through generations could settle the spirit. As the laughter that accompanied close bonds and full bodied liquor warmed in her chest, she felt her apprehension from early in the day release.

“Whew, y’all don’t know how much I needed this.” Therise expressed with a deep breath that revealed the exhaustion she often tried to disguise or hide. “Them kids be driving me up the wall.”

“That’s because you and ‘Bread going for a world record and probably half way there” Pearline quipped as Grace and Annie cackled while Therise rolled her eyes. 

“Girl, whatever. Well, what’s been up with y’all.” Therise asked, eyes sparkling. “Make it good, too. Not just regular shit. I know y’all got some gossip.”

“Nothing much is new with me other than being sick of that old ass fossil in my house,” Pearline offered with her face expressing just how exasperated she was with her situation. Even though she puts on a good face, the politics of being a black woman in the south had stripped her of the full life she envisioned for herself which had clearly begun to weigh such a free spirit down. “Being with y’all and performing at jukes are the only times I feel true joy. Don’ have to hide wit y’all.”

Therise, Grace, and Annie all reached out with soft touches to Pearline’s arms to show support as she was uncharacteristically vulnerable about what she had been going through.

“I got gossip too though,” Pearline noted with a sly smile as she tried to shift the mood and distract herself from the emotions that had only become harder to hide. 

“Y’all heard Mary back in town? Heard she just goin’ around asking folks if they have any idea where Stack at.”

“Damn! It’s been years. She still running up behind him like that,” Annie exclaimed while shaking her head. Annie had known more about Stack and Mary than most on account of it becoming a source of contention between her husband and his twin. Their relationship, if it could even be called that, always puzzled her. While Stack clearly felt something for her, that ain’t stop him from laying in more beds than he could keep up with and talking to her like he wanted to punish her for whatever feelings he did have that he clearly ain’t want to have. Not to mention, he could lose his life messing around with her. Despite her mom’s mixed heritage, Mary looked like that white woman she acted like.

“According to what I heard, they were shacking up ‘til he up and ran off on her. Ain’t even leave that poor girl a note.” Grace added. 

Therise, Annie, and Pearline stared shocked as Grace rarely had anything to add whenever they started sharing the latest gossip. Whether they heard it whispered across the room or directly told to them while getting their hair done at the salon, fitting for a dress at the tailor, or words shared among clients or those they worked alongside; they always shared the latest scoop with each other. 

“What?” Grace questioned as they stared at her incredulously. “You know I overhear all kind of shit at the store.”

They all paused before cackling together.

“I guess it’s my turn. Things are pretty normal. Rootwork goin’ good, word of mouth has me working more.”

Annie stated succinctly. 

She was met with a suggestive stare from the three of her friends in unison as if they had planned it. 

As Annie rolled her eyes, she shared the update they were waiting for. “Things going well with Jeremiah too.” She declared with a small smile, with something unnamed visible underneath. Like there was an underlying heaviness she ain’t want to validate by making space for it.

“There’s something else there,” Therise noticed. “Don’t leave us hanging.”

Annie’s hesitancy in sharing what she had been keeping to herself came second to her need to feel like holding it in was slowly pulling her under water.

“I’ve just been feeling unsettled recently,” she continued.

“It’s going to sound crazy but it feels like he’s coming back. 

“WHAT?” Therise and Pearline shouted at once. 

Not hearing Grace’s voice Annie focused her attention on her and noticed she became real interested in the floorboards and ceiling whenever she tried to maintain eye contact with her.

“Grace, spill it.” Annie said with no lightness in her voice.

“Okay, you beat me to the punch.” Grace gave up while the reluctance still remained as she let beats of silence pass before continuing. “Before Bo dropped me off tonight, he told me the twins were due back today and he had to link up with them for a bit.

“SHIT!!!!” Therise and Pearline shouted once again in perfect harmony.

All of the air had been sucked out the room. The easy and relaxed mood that had filled Annie’s home was suddenly gone in an instant. Therise and Pearline were still staring at each other in shock. Grace searched Annie’s face for a hint as to how she was feeling. Annie felt—well she didn’t know how she felt. One word couldn’t fully express the range of emotions that flooded her at once. She knew she needed time to process this. Time she would be denied of, as Elijah Moore had never been accused of being patient. 

Especially when it came to her. 

She felt goosebumps rise on her arms as every conflicting emotion that the simple confirmation that her foreboding feeling was indeed trying to warn her of his arrival elicited flooded her system all at once. In the past, foreboding is not a word she would have ever used to describe the man who was the great love of her life. She suddenly remembered his promise she had buried within her heart following the years of not hearing a single word from him. 

“I have never lied to you and I won’t now so I can’t promise when but I AM returning. 

Words that secretly gave her comfort those first few years when communication was consistent now felt like the promise to blow up the semblance of peace she somehow managed to find in the wreckage left in the wake of their fractured relationship.

“I don’t even know what to do with that information.” Annie responded honestly as she stared straight ahead feeling stuck since Grace confirmed what she had feared. The other emotion that struck her in the moment was something she felt she shouldn’t feel with news that her estranged husband had returned so she refused to name it—even in the privacy of her own thoughts. 

“I told Bo the same thing. Funny enough.” Grace offered. “I also told him I was telling you. I couldn’t let you walk in blind.”

“I appreciate that, Grace,” Annie added genuinely. 

“Damn, what you gon’ do Annie?” Pearline asked after barely letting a beat pass. “I know you just found out, but shit.”

Annie stared at her with a blank face as if to say “girl, I don’t fucking know.”

“I get why Line asked that. No matter how ill timed.” Therise voiced. “You absolutely deserve enough time to process this and prepare to see him again but sadly we know you not getting that from him.

“We know that nigga will be here prompt and early tomorrow morning. Surprised he ain’t make his way over tonight with how he moves.” Pearline chimed in highlighting her thought process.“ He had always been that way about you.”

“Can Jeremiah fight? How is he with a gun? Can he duck?” she added.

Therise and Grace looked at her to hint that she may be doing too much when Annie was already clearly overstimulated and processing every possible scenario right now.

Annie still stayed silent.

Feeling like Pearline was being a bit heavy handed, Therise added, “I guess I’m Line’s intention interpreter tonight but I think what she meant was that once Smoke finds out about Jeremiah...tell me I don’t have to finish that thought.”

Therise was right; she didn’t have to finish the thought. Annie knew what Smoke would do—he would kill him. Simply. Swiftly. She had seen how Smoke had responded to a store clerk who tried to approach her with romantic intentions. He was mysteriously never heard from again according to the manager. Another time a man had even been bold enough to disrespect her with him by her side. Headshot. Those were just the two she knew about. As she cared about Jeremiah, she did not want him to die because Smoke had no off switch when it came to her.

Things settled down after that.

Well, they attempted to at the very least.

Pearline, Therise, and Grace did their best to change the topic and return the lighthearted energy but even they knew it was a fool’s errand after what Annie just found out. 

Even Therise’s famous pound cake rich with butter, sugar, and spices that normally danced on her tongue and melted in her mouth tasted uncharacteristically sour. The liquor which had previously had her feeling loose now heightened her awareness of the turbulent emotions that cycled right under the surface. Grace, Therise, and Pearline were picked up one by one as it was time for them to return home. Following hugs and soft looks reassuring her that it would be alright and that she could handle it, they exited Annie’s home. Annie watched as her friends were carted off to their individual residences. 

“FUCK!” Annie shouted into the void in her empty home as her fist slammed into her work table. 

As if to welcome him home, the sun’s bright rays shone through the window waking him from his slumber. Smoke moved slowly as he tried to shake out any residual sleepiness as he needed to be as sharp as ever today. He had never been overly concerned with his appearance. Practicality was more important to him. Flashy suits, shiny accessories, and slick hair had always been more of Stack’s thing, but he had learned how to dress and what he looked best in. Today was a special occasion--the first time he would see Annie in seven years. She always had a way of making him care about things that were inconsequential to him. All to see the twinkle in her eyes and a smile he never felt fully worthy of. So, today he would dress to the nines even if seeing him was the last thing she wanted. 

He remembered how she always loved him in blue, which led to his wardrobe representing every shade of blue he could find. He wore a custom, three piece suit with a matching dark blue and grey houndstooth jacket and pants which was layered over a grey vest and blue dress shirt and blue cap. He had even neatly parted and styled his hair himself. Stack had usually been the one to do his hair as what Smoke saw as “excessive grooming techniques” were a mandatory daily ritual for Stack. His mojo bag lay prominent above his vest so that it would be completely visible to Annie. 

While his original motivation for wearing the suit was to look good for Annie, they also had work to do to prepare for their grand opening in a few weeks. Stack was riding with him because they hadn’t picked up the car they left in Clarksdale yet and needed  to start scratching things off their to-do list for the Juke opening. Finding more folks willing to work in order to build a dependable and consistent crew, recruiting their little cousin Sammie as well as other singers and musicians as the talent, securing items they would need for the kitchen, dance floor, and card rooms were among the things listed on their to-do list. 

Still, none of that was at the forefront of his mind. That did not have his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. His first priority was to see Annie and their daughter. He had wanted to go to see her as soon as he pulled into town last night, but after being on the road nearly a full day, and meeting up with Bo to check out the saw mill and retrieve the keys, exhaustion overtook them as soon as they got to Stack’s place. 

Smoke couldn’t shake a weird feeling he had following an interaction with Bo before they parted ways last night. They had known each other since they were kids and he had never been anything but straight forward. 

Well, he had always been straight forward. 

Until last night when Smoke asked about Annie, which is something he had always done even when he was still in Chicago. Even after Smoke had cut contact with Annie for a reason he made Bo privy to, with the condition that he couldn’t tell Grace, he still would ask for updates on how she was every time he and Bo communicated. 

Bo had met Smoke and Stack outside the sawmill as they wanted to get an idea of the physical layout beyond what Bo had described on the phone. Using sawmills they were familiar with as a reference, along with trusting Bo’s vivid descriptions, they were able to visualize the space while being 606 miles away. With the amount of work needed to be done, they needed to begin working as soon as possible. They needed an exact picture of what they were working with so they could purchase the materials needed to make small repairs, fix faulty wiring, build a stage sturdy enough to support musicians, instruments, and stomping strong enough to shake the earth, clean the inside from top to bottom, and transform it from a sawmill to THE place to be every Saturday night. 

Bo unlocked the door and pulled open the makeshift door as the three of them entered. He handed Smoke the keys and gave them some time to explore to really take in the space to see if it aligned with their vision. Buying a juke from someone is easy. Ready-made. You just have to slap your name on it and that’s it. Their job was gon’ be alot harder. Taking one thing and transforming it into an entirely different thing. Pulling it off would set their juke apart from the rest.  

“Y’all go head and take a look around. See if it’s what you imagined. I’ll be here till y’all ready to go.” Bo broke the silence to say shortly after they entered the building.

“Bet,” Stack replied.

Smoke gave an affirmative grunt. 

The first floor had a large open layout with space for a dance floor and small stage for a band, a small kitchen where they could sell fish plates and other beloved southern delicacies, an open space for a bar offering cheap corn liquor as well as the more pricy Irish beer and Italian wine they smuggled from Chicago, and a card room adjacent to the bar to lose the money you came with or double what you started with. There were also a couple small rooms with locks that they ain’t decide what they were gonna do with them yet.

The second floor was maybe a quarter of the size of the first floor, mainly housing an area to survey everything happening below like a hawk. The perfect place for Smoke to watch to make sure everything was functioning as it should be once they opened. There was also a sizeable bedroom he could repurpose as an office. A place to get away from the noise when he needed to. Enough space for some cabinets and couches as well as a desk and safe.

From his first walkthrough, Smoke saw how much work they would have to do while also seeing the potential. Might be one of the first ideas Stack had that actually could become something. If they did it right, there was real money to be made. They could hustle less and build more. He couldn’t knock what they had to do to survive but he had become tired of that life. He wanted something rooted and consistent like him. 

As immediate and instant as lightning striking, he realized his previous mindset had changed shortly after meeting Annie. A place he belonged—a home, was something that he never imagined would be within his reach. Houses were places you lived in to shield you from the physical elements while floorboards, blankets, and candles couldn’t protect your mind, heart, and soul from someone hellbent on destroying them—until she showed him how easily two people who loved each other could build a home. 

Part of coming back was knocking down any obstacles that stood in their way including the hurt and the pain he caused. Words alone never meant shit to Annie and part of why they worked so well is because his actions always reaffirmed the words he did say. Breaking that sacred covenant between them now meant he’d have to restructure nearly every aspect of his life. If it meant she’d look at him with eyes regaining the love, trust, and safety that had become the foundation of their relationship—he’d lay everything that ever threatened the home they built directly at her feet to be cast off.

Stack was often the visionary so he walked around with stars in his eyes already imagining what everything would look like once their vision had been realized while Smoke focused on the minute details. The materials they needed, where to purchase them from to get the best deal, needing people to build, cook, clean, and perform, and who they could hire for each job.

After taking a mental note of what tasks they’d start on tomorrow, Smoke walked towards the staircase to rejoin Stack and Bo on the first floor. He had done enough for today and he was honestly exhausted from the drive down. 

Stack walked to the bottom of the staircase as he saw Smoke slowly walk down.

“So whatcha think? It’s gon’ work, right? Almost like I can hear the music now.” Stack chirped excitedly as he waited for Smoke’s analysis after his walkthrough as he was much more particular and realistic.

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself yet, nigga.” Smoke warned to try to cool some of Stack’s excitement as it was nowhere near ready for opening night. “We got a lot of work to do to bring our vision to life and to make this business a success, BUT it’ll work. This place got good bones and more than enough space for what we tryna do.”

Stack nodded trying to play it cool before his lips spread into a smile that was different from the smile he showed others that was a play. A way to lull them into a false sense of security or lead them to falling for his charm and not realizing it until he already got what he wanted out of them. This smile was genuine, showing that the juke joint wasn’t just another “get rich, quick” scheme. It actually meant something to him to make this work. 

Smoke started walking towards Bo at the entrance as they were done for the night.

“S’all good?” Bo asked even though he was familiar with Smoke’s body language. After being close for so long, it’s something he naturally picked up as facial expressions and body language was always the way Smoke spoke the loudest.  

“Yeah. It’ll do.” Smoke answered concisely with nothing to add. It would’ve been easy to tell if he hated it but what seemed to be indifference was actually approval. 

“Good. Let’s go, then.” Bo offered knowing they were all ready to go.  

The night sky had not quite settled at its darkest yet, but it was on the horizon. It would be another hour before it reached its darkest hue. The humid air had cooled off so it wasn’t quite so sticky but not enough to be cool. Tan dirt with the impression of dress shoes and work boots lined the path back to their trucks. 

Bo traded farewells with the twins as he had more errands to run but planned to connect with them the next few days to check in on their progress and offer help where he was able to. 

Stack walked ahead, opening the passenger door and sliding into his seat as the exhaustion of the day settled in. Smoke and Bo began to split to head to their respective vehicles as Bo had parked a few feet away from Smoke’s truck.

Smoke paused before he walked to the driver’s side of their truck. 

“Bo, let me talk to you, right quick.”

Bo paused waiting to see what Smoke wanted to pull him to the side to discuss. If he was honest, he knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. Smoke wouldn’t be here in the flesh talking to Bo had it not been for the reason he pulled him to the side. 

“What’s up, Smoke.”

Smoke’s gaze held his showing the sincerity and true desperation for an answer that was straight forward, like lukewarm whiskey with no ice to soften the bite of the liquid as it slides down the throat. 

“How is Annie? No bullshitting, you always been the type to keep it straight with me.” Smoke continued knowing there was a question underneath that a part of him wouldn’t allow him to say aloud almost as if it would answer the question for him. 

“Oh, she good. According to what Grace told me last.” Bo replied in a nervous manner highlighted by the way his eyes shifted maintaining unsteady eye contact with Smoke as he wrung his hands. “I know you though, you gon’ see her tomorrow. You’ll be able to put eyes on her yourself.”

From a young age, people had always been hesitant if not completely fearful of Smoke. Bo never had been. While his bouncy energy was more like Stack, who he was beneath his colorful expression was much more like Smoke. 

He was between a rock and a hard place. Being bound by secrecy on both sides to two people who were the closest to him reminded him why he was always honest—it wasn’t nearly as stressful as keeping secrets. 

First, Smoke had asked him not to tell Grace the real reason he had to cut off contact with Annie which he understood due to how close Annie and Grace had become over the years. Then, following a date night with Grace at a local juke he’d seen Annie and Jeremiah dancing in a way that clearly confirmed how their relationship transformed. Knowing he still talked to Smoke at least once a month, Grace had asked him not to tell Smoke about Jeremiah so that Annie could have a real chance at healing from that heartbreak, which Bo had to respect. 

Which led him to this point, very obviously withholding the full truth  from the man he’d call his best friend which left him with a feeling so shitty it weighed down his carefree spirit.

Smoke grunted in response as he walked back to his truck while replaying their interaction to see what he was missing.

Smoke could feel that something was off which nearly triggered his own nervous tic. In all the years he had known Bo, he had never seen him leave anything left unsaid. Normally, he would have pushed when it came to anything that concerned Annie but it didn’t feel like she was hurt, injured, or sick from the way Bo answered. It felt more like Bo didn’t know how to break some news to Smoke. News that would have Smoke reaching in his coat for the most efficient way to handle obstacles. 

Whatever Bo didn’t tell him last night, he was sure to be faced with today. He had decided seven years ago that nothing would stop him from fixing shit with Annie. He would literally do whatever it took. It was time for him to do what he did best letting his actions speak the loudest—no matter what was waiting for him on the other side of door of the only place he had ever called home. 

Sundays were usually Annie’s favorite day of the week. There was an ease that came with the day unique from the rest of the week. She could really savor every part of the day. Leisure strolls gathering roots and herbs, curating slow cooked meals with inviting aromas, restorative naps that served as a rest following the exhaustion of the week that ended. It is the only day she felt true ease. 

Well, was. 

Until Grace delivered the news last night. It didn’t just end the girl’s night on a sour note. It ruined the rest of her night. She tossed and turned the whole night. Her mind was flooded with possibilities of what he could say or do and how she would respond. She absolutely needed more than twelve hours to prepare to deal with her estranged husband who would be sure to bulldoze her life as she knew it. She had learned how to live without him. Something that absolutely gutted her. Something she almost didn’t survive, but she had. 

Now, he thinks what? He can slip back into the life she made after seven years of physical absence and four years of no contact. 

She’d show him how true those last words she said seven years ago had become. 

Now, she sat at breakfast with Jeremiah zoning out. Biscuits fresh out the oven served with ripe blackberry syrup and fresh cream paired with fluffy eggs and homemade sausage sat untouched.

“Did you hear me, Annie?” Jeremiah inquired with his eyes lowered, reflecting concern.

“Sorry, what was that?” Annie replied as she snapped out of her daze cycling between different what-ifs knowing what would soon be on the other side of her door.

“I asked if you were okay, baby. You haven’t even touched your plate.” He expressed as he reached out to hold her hand in an attempt to try to ground whatever turbulence he saw behind her eyes.

“Yeah, I—” she answered as a dark blue Ford Truck with a covered bed pulled into the driveway.

“Shit!” She thought. The moment she was dreading was about to take place while Jeremiah witnessed it. A selfish part of her wished he wouldn’t have been here to witness it. She told herself it was to avoid the stand off that was sure to happen.

If she was being honest, the real reason may be something she wasn’t willing to name—even in the privacy of her own thoughts. 

Smoke pulled into a shaded area beneath the huge magnolia tree that was full grown long before he and Annie ever bought the land their future home would sit upon. 

Suddenly, Smoke’s nerves made themselves present all at once signaled by his sudden sweating and his shaking hands.

“Here.” Stack offered as he handed a freshly rolled cigarette to Smoke. 

Smoke reached out and grabbed the cigarette without looking as his hand knew exactly where to meet Stack’s.

He placed the cigarette between his teeth feeling grounded by the familiar scent of  tobacco acting as a balm to settle his nerves, as he lit the cigarette with the skill of someone who had become adept at the ritualistic nature of the same sequence of movements. 

As he inhaled and let the nicotine permeate his senses, the calming release he was desperate for came as he exhaled.

He sat in the truck with his eyes closed as he repeated the process until only the shrunken paper remained.

“Okay. I’m ready.” Smoke asserted as he moved to open the door.

“Wait.” Stack interrupted as Smoke paused, his hand resting on the handle.

“No matter what might  be waiting for you on the other side of that door. I got you.” Stack let the moment sit before continuing in a show of support he had never expressed regarding Smoke and Annie’s relationship. “Even if that means saving you from yourself.”

“That being said, I do hope it goes well. Even if that just means, she don't pull a rifle on you.” Stack added.

Smoke nodded, accepting Stack’s show of support, which caught him off guard as he had never been a supporter of their relationship due to the jealousy he had not addressed until they were in Chicago. Maybe he really had changed.

As he exited the truck, he was flooded with memories. Every single aspect of their home, the garden, the enclosure that housed chickens and goats were all decisions they made together. As he walked up, he felt the crunch of leaves under his loafers, he bent down as he approached Luna’s resting place. He brushed the falling leaves from the stone painted with her hand print and placed a handful of dogwood flowers adorning small branches in their place. Reaching into his breast pocket, he retrieved a small glass bottle to replace the milk that sat at her grave from the day before.   

He closed his eyes as he allowed emotions to overflow him. The loss of Luna had been the first time he ever grieved someone that passed. The devastation at the loss of a child is not something that leaves but transforms. Something you hold until you reunite with them again. He had even made a small altar in his apartment in Chicago so that he would still have a way to visit with and talk to her. Coming home meant reuniting with both his girls. 

“Papa’s here.” Smoke said as he allowed himself to feel the weight of the moment with deep reverence.

Annie watched the scene unfold several feet in front of her door. Despite standing in what felt like the ruins of their relationship, she couldn’t help but feel a small pull at her heartstrings. Seeing the way Smoke still honored and held their daughter close to his heart at least confirmed that the Elijah she knew still existed.

She now had the courage to confront him herself. 

She always found her daughter to be her strength in the face of uncertainty and fear. 

She turned back to look at Jeremiah as he had also witnessed this moment alongside Annie.

Jeremiah had cleared his throat as he began to address what was clearly about to unfold in front of them.

Annie broke the silence before he had the chance to, “I got this. This is something I gotta do alone. Can you honor that?”

“I’ll respect your wishes but I will be here if you need me or if I see shit start to get out of hand.” Jeremiah expressed in a sincere and somewhat pleading show of support. He hung back out of view but he wanted to be able to show up for her as he could only imagine how hard this was for her. While he was kind and people attempted to take advantage of that at times, he also wasn’t dumb. He knew why Smoke was here and she was just about to walk out of the door.

“Yeah, I know. It’ll be fine.” Annie answered with a tight lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

Annie slowly crossed the threshold of her home and stood on the steps before descending closer to where Smoke kneeled. 

Smoke felt Annie’s presence before he saw her. 

“How you been?” Smoke asked as he turned around. Her beauty had always astounded him, but now even more than the day he left. The glow of her deep mocha toned skin, her eyes that always drew him in no matter their expression, full, pouty lips that had the tendency to draw his undivided attention, the fullness of her chest perfectly supported by an outfit that put her full curves on display stopped him in his tracks.

“No miseries worth complaining about,” Annie replied in a monotone manner with no emotion behind her words. He somehow how looked just as she remembered him. He had barely aged in seven years and still retained his rugged good looks that would at one time had made her weak in the knees. Filling out the suit he wore with muscles that had become even more developed—somehow. She began to walk closer to where Smoke stood so that they could maintain some privacy. Some things even in the heat of her anger should still remain between them.

“Well, now that you’re back darkening my doorstep maybe I have one.”

Smoke took a deep breath and grumbled exasperated by her response even though he had no right to be.

“Do you remember what I told you that day?” Smoke offered as a rebuttal to Annie’s irritation.

“No matter how or when, I was always returning. Come hell or highwater and it took both. Looked you in the eyes as I said that shit. Not because I miss the South. Not because it’s the only place I know. Home ain’t a place to me, it’s you.” Smoke exclaimed while maintaining eye contact that sent a shiver down Annie’s spine.

Annie broke eye contact as his words still lingered in the air. It took her back to that day seven years ago when she still had hope, when he never gave her a reason to doubt his words. She knew Smoke’s reminder was to highlight his intention and the meaning behind it but that only paved a way for the anger to seep through. How could he act like the last four years ain’t happened? That last conversation and the radio silence that followed nearly destroyed her. 

It wasn’t like the pain of losing Luna. They carried that together. This was grief she was left to carry all on her own given to her by hands that had only ever held, caressed, and grasped—never hurt. 

Her eyes narrowed. Her eyebrows furrowed. The deep breaths she took did nothing to temper the anger that decided to take the driver’s seat. The Annie who nearly wasted away, who cut off contact from the friends who had always supported her, who seemed to wake up just to weep, demanded retribution. Her rational mind could consider that he also mourned, struggled, and was miserable but none of that changed the fact that he was the one who left. She decided it was time Smoke was faced with the weight of the pain he caused knowing there was nothing he could do—just like she couldn’t when she was at her lowest.

“Since you wanna play the memory game. My turn.” Annie expressed with a biting laugh with no humor in it. 

“Did you only think your last words were important or did you drown mine out because it wasn’t what you wanted to hear?” She snapped being reminded of the pain of being unheard the last four years. “I said love is not enough to wait for your return. I said that by the time you return, the bones of the home you forsook may be the only thing here to welcome you back.”

“Now you back like a bullheaded haint no shade of blue could ward off.” Annie retorted sounding just as rough as she intended it to.

Smoke took in Annie’s disposition as it unsteadied him. She’d been mad at him before but it never lasted more than a day. This was an Annie that he never personally experienced and he was struggling to accept that this ire was being directed at him. Even then, she had never looked at him in a way that would’ve made a lesser man turn to dust. Nothing, not even Annie’s current ire for him, would get him to give up no matter how long it took.

“I ain’t expect you to be happy about it, but I know you. You not surprised I’m here. Your reaction woulda been different. Being unwelcomed and being unexpected not the same thing.” Smoke replied honestly. He knew him popping up wasn’t fair but he couldn’t stay away. 

Being caught offguard by Smoke’s mention of her connection to her intuition, which she never expected from him as someone who mainly relied on what he can see, her mask of anger slipped for a second. Unfortunately for her, that was long enough for him to see the moment her defenses fell. 

“See, some things don’t change in seven years or even a lifetime. Not when you know someone to their core. Not when you know their thought before they’ve finished thinking it. You always knew I would be back and I know that ain’t the only thing your intuition telling you even if it ain’t something you wanna hear.”

Annie huffed at his audacity thinking he could still read her like a book. What irritated her the most was that he was right but she couldn’t let him think that being right meant things would go his way.

“You want this, you want that, was what I want something you factored in?” Annie challenged as frustration started building at Smoke not even considering this started with a decision he made. What if I don’t want you back, what if I don’t want to see you or talk to you? What then? You gon’ respect my wishes?” 

Smoke did the only thing he could at the time—listen. 

“You decided to cut contact, you couldn’t even tell me why.”

“I’m the love of your life”, “I saved you”, “I’m the reason you went from existing to living”, Annie snapped as it got harder to control her volume the more turbulent her emotions got. She mocked the very statements that once meant everything to her. “Then, you ain’t even have the decency to tell me why you decided to break my heart and crush it under your heel.” 

“You know I meant that shit. Since the day we met, there ain’t been a day that I ever lied to you especially about feelings I never felt befo’. You know there had to be a reason for me to break both of us. I know you could feel that even though I couldn’t tell you at the time.” Smoke interrupted as he realized a part of her clearly questioned if his love for her ran out. Letting her direct her deserved anger towards him was one thing, but it was another thing entirely for her to question if the only eternal feeling he had ever felt was temporary—as if his love for her ran on an hourglass. 

“Making a choice I never wanted to could only be for one reason: your protection. Let me explain now—” Smoke sincerely expressed, until Annie prevented him from finishing that thought. 

“Then, was when I needed it.” Annie knew that she could not handle the truth right now. She couldn’t waver even if she could understand why he made the decision but it was just another reminder of him making a decision without including her in the process, even if, in this case, it was possibly meant to protect her.

As their tones got sharper and the volume of their voices rose in time with their frustration, they only moved closer to each other. 

Stack watched from the window of the truck about 100 feet away and things were going exactly as he expected. He expected frustration, anger, and reactions that made it evident that slick words and biting remarks were shared. Despite all the difficult emotions they both felt, he even wasn’t surprised to see want and desire displayed in their body language. What he didn’t expect was catching the slight movement in the house of someone who obviously had the frame of a man. Smoke clearly had been too focused on Annie to notice but when he did notice, this would become an entirely different situation. As this clearly was about to go from bad to worse, he kept his hand on the handle prepared to move in. 

“Let me tell you what I need now. I need space. I need to make the decisions. I need you to realize you can’t ‘Smoke’ your way through this situation. You have to give up the very thing that’s pulled you through nearly every situation you’ve survived—control.” Annie stated her demands knowing he couldn’t follow them. Earlier, he smugly reminded her he still knew her without remembering that it goes both ways.

 “Since the day you left, the last seven years operated on your timing, your wants, and what you felt like you couldn’t refuse. It’s my turn and right now, I want you to leave.” 

Smoke realized to even have a chance to repair what he broke he had to pick his battles and a battle wasn’t worth losing the war—losing her. 

“Okay, I’ll go. Not before leaving you with this.” Smoke warned because he wouldn’t let their first face to face conversation in seven years end with him tucking his tail. “You’re right I took the reins on decisions we should’ve made together, situations we could have resolved together so it’s only fair it’s your turn. I know you thought I’d never give up control but you’ll see just how much I’m willing to sacrifice if it means another chance to put the twinkle in your eye, be the reason behind your smile, and be the footsteps walking in step next to yours.”

Smoke could’ve left it here but it felt as if something within him commanded him to remind her of a vow they made long before they jumped the broom in honor of their ancestors. 

“Calling you my everything, the love of my life, and the one who made me want to live ain’t pretty words with an empty meaning for me. Knowing that, you know I can’t and won’t completely step away. You know I never can when it comes to you. The one who is still mine just as much as I am hers. A truth that’ll never change in this life or the next is this: I’ll always be Elijah Moore and you’ll always be Annie Moore.” Smoke stated without a single doubt visible in his voice as held intense eye contact before turning to walk back to his truck.

Annie stared at his back as he turned incredulous at the fact that he had the nerve to try to have the last word before walking away. 

“Don’t you mean Annie Celestine?” She bit back knowing the kind of reaction it would bring out of him.

Annie wasn’t trying to be understanding or reasonable. She was trying to hurt him. She wanted him to feel even a fraction of what she felt. Hell, what she still feels when she was alone in their house, their bed, and on their land with the idle thoughts she thought she cast out but despite her denial—still existed. 

“You know the fuck, I don’t. You been a Moore, been mine, long before a single paper had been filed with the court. Now, woman don’t play games with me,” Smoke growled at the audacity of her to even suggest she would drop Moore from her name. The anger he had tried to temper was almost completely unleashed at that remark he knew was meant to elicit this very reaction.

“You see any chalk on the ground used for hopscotch or cards scattered on a table?.” Annie’s biting response served as acknowledgement of how serious she was.

“I’m trying to play by your rules but no one knows how to push me like you, woman. It’s always been that way.” Smoke admitted knowing the dangerous road he was walking down. 

“You mad and I prolly got more to make up for than even I know but you wrong on one thing I can’t leave before correcting. You think you ain’t mine, still? Every part of you?” Smoke said directly in her ear as the physical space between them had closed as his eyes darkened and his voice deepened while slowly closing the small gap that still existed between them. 

Annie glared without breaking eye contact unwilling to show that his words had an effect on her as years of flashbacks came flooding in at once. Most of them with her ankles near her ears and his single chain close enough that the glint of the gold dangled mere inches from her eyesight.

The tension between them was palpable to anyone close enough to witness the confrontation. Little by little, the physical space between them had closed completely. Years of hurt, miscommunication, frustration, and experiences they hadn’t yet named circled them like a fog rolling down a hill before the sun made itself known to signal the beginning of a new day. Tension of another kind also floated between them. The kind of tension usually solved by frenzied kisses, spread legs, and a chorus of grunts and moans was also present. .

While they were too caught up in their staredown to step away and realize that sexual tension also had demanded to make itself known—Jeremiah wasn’t. 

He decided he would no longer be a bystander. 

“Everything good, Annie?” Jeremiah questioned as he had seen more than enough. It was very clear this wasn’t a conversation between old lovers who no longer had any feelings for each other. He recognized the fire in Smoke’s eyes as a man who had feelings for the woman standing in front of him that couldn’t be extinguished. He decided to show Smoke that he no longer had a place here as her ex-husband no matter how dangerous that would be for him as Smoke’s reputation was alive and well in Clarksdale even in his absence. 

“Yeah, just like I told you I'd be, Jeremiah.” Annie responded not hiding the annoyance in her voice as this suddenly became much more complicated and dangerous. She had seen Smoke maim men at the least and kill them at most for approaching her in a forward way. Smoke was liable to get violent when it came to her even for an innocent gesture. There was no way he was gonna let a man who had become her boyfriend leave the property alive. 

As soon as Stack saw the figure emerge from the house, he hopped out the car but it was guaranteed Smoke was not gonna leave here without some kind of physical altercation with that nigga. 

“Who the fuck is this?” Smoke bellowed without an attempt at managing his temper while his eyes remained trained on Annie, refusing to acknowledge whoever this nigga was who was walking out of his house. 

“Jeremiah, like you just heard Annie say. Although as an invited guest in this house I don’t know why I have to answer to you.” He flippantly said. Annie had told him just how no-nonsense Smoke was and how he approached business and perceived threats. So, Smoke’s reaction was expected but that didn’t change how Jeremiah found his audacity irritating.

“Jeremiah, don’t. I promise you it’s not worth the consequence that may be waiting on the other side for you.” Annie paused as she didn’t want to seem like she was taking Smoke’s side. He lost that privilege shortly after she saw that truck drive away with her heart trailing behind it. “I just want to give you a fair warning as I know how his mind works, especially where I’m concerned. You ain’t did nothing that you have to pay for.”

Annie’s words had reached him as he settled. As she turned to see Smoke’s steely gaze she knew exactly what was next as she saw the twitch in Smoke’s eyes witnessing the familiarity between her and Jeremiah. 

She stopped Smoke before he could even start. 

“And you, I know exactly where that hand is heading. You will not spill blood in front of her, not on the land where our daughter rests. My rules, remember?” Annie ordered with no space for argument. 

For the first time ever, Smoke was successfully convinced to not shoot someone. He kind of felt like bringing Luna into it was unfair but she was right. He would never do anything to cause her stress or discomfort even if she was no longer on this earthly plain physically.

Smoke sucked his teeth in annoyance as he couldn’t handle this man being allowed to continue taking up space. 

“Tsk. Why the fuck was he interrupting our conversation anyway? Wasn’t nobody talking to the help.”

“Maybe you would wanna talk if you knew exactly what I was helping wit’.” Jeremiah responded as he refused to be outdone by a man who left Annie high and dry emotionally. 

“Oh,” Smoke replied with a sardonic laugh signaling he was about to likely take a tense conversation directly to hell. 

A part of Annie knew that she should have stopped the confrontation before it could get to this point, but another part of her that rarely made an appearance kind of wanted to see where this went.

“Did you help choose the land? How about helping build the house or plant the different flowers and herbs for Annie’s rootwork practice? Did you help her see that all niggas ain’t the same? That the love she always deserved had found her exactly where she was at? No? Let’s try one more. Did you put that arch in her back while hitting that spot that never fails to have her speaking in her native tongue?

Jeremiah let a look slip in response to Smoke’s last snide remark. He couldn’t prepare to hear that but surprise wasn’t what caused it to slip past his defenses. It was the fact that it was true. That was not something Annie had ever done with him and Smoke having the audacity to say so much despite being absent and her past had him ready be done with talking. 

Smoke knew that was petty of him but he couldn’t stand this nigga acting like he knew Annie better or that he was better for his wife. His only regret would be if it upset Annie further. As far as this no name nigga goes he was lucky he ain’t get more explicit than that. In fact, he decided he wasn’t done. 

“Oh, no? I can tell by the look on your face those beautiful words have never been directed towards you. Wonder why?”

The silent tension between the two of them as they stared each other down being still in a way that felt unnatural while slowly approaching each other made it clear that if they were able to get a hand on each other the results would be disastrous. 

As if they realized this at the same time, Stack jogged quickly to reach Smoke as fast as possible in order to pull him back while Annie softly grabbed Jeremiah’s shoulder to meet his eyes to calm him down. 

Despite all of Stack’s attempts, Smoke was still trying to barrel towards Jeremiah even though Jeremiah had already stopped his approach towards Smoke. 

It was clear there was only way to stop Smoke and Annie was the only one who could stop him. She knew Jeremiah might feel a way a about it but she hoped he’d be able to understand when stopping Smoke meant he got to go home in one piece. 

Once Smoke was five steps away from changing the trajectory of Jeremiah’s life, Annie stepped in knowing from the years they shared even through his rage towards others she could provide a moment of clarity. 

Then, she put her hand on his chest to center him and said the only thing that always worked. 

“Elijah.”

It worked just the way it always had. 

She paused for a moment noticing a small lump under her hand. As she looked up from her hand to him, she saw the twine around his next and knew what it was—the mojo bag. As her eyes lifted to his as if to confirm, she found him already holding intense eye contact with her while offering a slight nod. She quickly removed her hand and she currently couldn't think about what it meant that he kept that promise.

She was over this display of machismo between the both of them and just wished she could go back in time and choose to go out today instead of staying home. Then, she wouldn’t have had to be in the middle of this shit that only put her in the position to be asked more questions by both of them. Questions she didn’t have an answer to or the answer couldn’t be dressed up pretty. 

Smoke completely stopped in his tracks and backed up to where he originally stood. Stack shook his head as he now stood behind him not trusting him to not lose his wits about himself again. 

Jeremiah filed what he just witnessed between them as something to have a conversation with Annie about later but figured now wasn’t the time. 

This day already went off the rails with barbs thrown all around. He could’ve just settled on the fact that Smoke would have to leave while he got to enjoy Annie’s company still, but he couldn’t get that last line Smoke threw at him out his head.

He decided he would remind Smoke of the position he no longer had since he was so keen on telling Jeremiah where he lacked.

Jeremiah huffed showing just how exasperated he felt with this entire situation while muttering just loud enough for Smoke to hear, “I don’t even know why I’m arguing with your ex husband anyway.”

Smoke froze. Despite being outside with the sun beaming down on him he was sure he felt a chill. Anger didn’t often run his blood cold. He couldn’t have heard what he thought. 

Annie trying to get to him earlier using her maiden name was one thing, but this nigga calling him her ex-husband as if he saw the papers and filed them himself had to be addressed. 

“What the fuck he mean by ex-husband, Anaiah????”

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please let me know your thoughts! My girl Annie found herself in the middle of some SHIT😅😅. Whole house mad. Definitely gonna be a trip where we pick up. Chapter 4 might take a bit longer than this first three.

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[urbnnoir]

Smoke: Did you put that arch in her back while hitting that spot that never fails to have her speaking in her native tongue?”

Annie:

Well…I hope Jeremiah ready to go to war for it 😂🤷🏾‍♀️