“The fuck?” Messiah grimaced, as he climbed out of bed and picked up his phone to check the time. It was 9 o’clock in the morning and Messiah was a night owl. He had just closed his eyes three hours ago and the disturbance at his front door wasn’t welcomed. Nobody even knew where he lived. He hadn’t stayed at his trap house last night, so he wondered who was knocking like the police so early. He reached in the nightstand beside his bed and pulled out a .45 caliber, chrome pistol, as he went to answer. He was about to send somebody’s Jehovah’s Witnesses straight to heaven for knocking on his shit so damn early. He pulled open the door, in irritation, his gun gripped tightly in his hand at his side.

“So, you just kiss me and then go M.I.A? You don’t answer my texts, my calls…”

“Come in,” he said, as squeezed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He wasn’t prepared for this conversation, but he knew it was inevitable. He stepped to the side, as she entered. She was livid, but as she took him in, standing before her wearing only boxer briefs, her anger waned. His body was incredible. The semi hard morning wood was downright distracting, and as her eyes drank him in, he smirked.

“You ain’t ready for it, li'l girl, chill out,” he said. He disappeared for a minute and returned wearing grey sweatpants. “Have a seat. What’s on your mind?”

“You,” she said, not wanting to lose her nerve. “All I can think about is you, Messiah.”

Messiah swiped his hand over his nose and mouth, sighing. “Yeah, about that,” he started. “I messed up by kissing you the other day. I don’t really want to take it there with you like that, Mo. You’re a cool girl, but I just ain’t feeling it; you know?”

He could visibly see the effects of his words, as Morgan recoiled. She blinked rapidly, as her eyes watered. “You’re lying,” she whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

“Look, I ain’t with the 21 questions, Mo. I don’t explain myself. I just move the way I move and that’s it. This is how I’m moving with it. What you still doing slumming it in Flint, anyway? You can hear now. Ain’t nothing holding you back. Go to Michigan State. That’s where you belong. In the real world, living life. This shit ain’t for you. I ain’t for you,” he said. Messiah didn’t want to push her away. If he was a selfish man, he would be between her legs right now, with her pearl in his mouth, swallowing her soul to convince her he was good enough, but he knew Ethic was right. If he loved her, he would let her go, set her free.