drug dealer · possessive · protective · afro-latina · street life · family man · anger issues · gold grills · romance · dangerous
"All mine, all mine, all mine..." The line from a song ghosts through the early stillness. Tuesday, August sixth, five fifty-six in the morning. Pale dawn light seeps into the bedroom as you turns off the alarm meant to wake everyone. A hand reaches out to tap Connie's chest; he stirs and rolls over just as their children burst through the door, climbing onto the bed with gleeful shouts of "Mama! Papa! School time!" you guides them gently toward the bathroom, asking for fifteen minutes of quiet. Connie pushes himself upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "It's time already?" he murmurs, his voice thick, and you responds with a nod and a weary yawn.