✰~𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬.

It was spacious.

This is one of my first thoughts when setting foot into my new apartment. That, and how the hell I was going to be carrying all my boxes inside without breaking the fragilities.

I tip my head to the heavens for strength, a habit learnt by my Nana whenever faced with my problematic Grandpa, one who'd left the world under the guise of a stroke.
Better that than having your own wife smother you in your sleep.

Sarcasm is the gift, I always say.

"Thank you so much, for your time and all'at."
I smile brightly when the moving company employees deliver the last of my accessories in front of my door.

Luck was on my side a bit, I had to admit, having the apartment fully furnished and not having to pay extra fees out of my already malnourished wallet to have them carrying in shit as big as a two-way dresser.

I left all of that for my...
Boyfriend.

There's a clench to my abdomen at the mention of what Fabio was supposed to be, had he not been such a pathetic lacking bitch.

I couldn't, not help him.
Even if we were on a break.

Right...?

Huffing an annoyed sigh, I cleanse my head of all irritating thoughts merely relating or including his name.
I was not going to start this new chapter in my life, I was not going to stain it with something as black as ink, in the shape of a pathetic human named Fabio.

I deserved to be happy.
Maybe he'd come around, I don't know. But I was sick of sitting lax and waiting for something that seems it would be as scarce as seeing an orca whale wriggling on my doorstep.

Which was very much next to the top of being fucking impossible.

Tying my loose coils up into a high bun, this time with an scrunchie and not a disguised hair tie that would fit to thin and break. It feels relieving not having the long coily strands tickling and warming my nape in this humid fucking weather, along with how close clothed I was in the low-cut jersey and bell-bottom jeans that fit snuggle to my hips.

Manhattan Spring  very much stood true to its name. Something I was seemingly learning the hard way.

Most of the boxes aren't that heavy, actually quite light. Well until I reach the ones that read fragile and would be carrying most of my cutlery.

Why was glass and stainless steel so fucking heavy?

The huff and puffing of my breath are as much prove of how physically fit my overweight ass was, not that I could care to actually participate in fitness activities. Netflix with my favourite snacks were way to hard pass up.

And its only maniacs that are able to stand out of a warm bed at four am to go out into the cold, instead of snoozing the alarm until you would be guaranteed to in the least, be five minutes late for the start of your day.

The luxurious life of the unfit, ahh.
The gym has never looked more inferior than it did then.

Well, I was slightly regretting not at least squatting a bit for some strength in these thighs, them being the main focus as I bend to stand to my feet with a box sat on my hip.

"Hoo, fuck this shit."
I sigh out in a mangled breath of frustration and exhaustion.

My chest heaves like a vending machine by the time I'm done, and I stand with my hand to my jean cladded hips, having rid myself of the cute jersey that hung of my frame as I now stood in only a tank.

And well, the bell-bottoms.
I couldn't exactly stand naked waist down in the doorway of my new apartment and scare off any possible neighbours, now could I?

I give the boxes filling my living room a distasteful look, before the familiar feeling of procrastination kicks in.

I could always start unpacking tomorrow, right?
Yeah, yeah I could.

As simple as that, a satisfied sigh leaves me when turning to grab my purse settled on the small table near the door, I think it'd be a good spot for keys and such, but that could be considered and contemplated later.

For now, I wanted to explore the in skirts and outskirts of Manhattan Spring.

__

It's hot and was increasing with each step I took closer to the center of the city, made me regret not changing into something lighter than a pair of jeans now currently stuck to my inner thighs, the tank stood catching the sweat droplets that falls between my tits.

The light flannel that I threw over my cleavage does nothing to lessen the heat, oh God no.

I feel like I'm stuck in my twelve-year high school class, if I cringed hard enough, I'd still be able to make out the shrill voice of miss Sherilyn Botham.

The hate I had for that flat chested woman, Jeezazz.

So far Manhattan Spring looks the epitome of a busy and buzzing city.
The traffic, worse as expected, the buildings, towering over each other in a competition for who would reach the skies first, the people, posh and luxurious yet homeless and tattered individuals litter the streets on their way to their own different destination.

My eyes flicker over everything, my small hometown being nothing compared to what the hell was surrounding me.

I spot a cafe nearing, and I promptly make it my next stop if just to get me off these busy streets. I glance at the Name Signed in pretty Cursive high above the door.

Strawberryaaa Cafeé.

I loved the tingle the name left on my tongue as I repeat it to myself softly. The bell chimes as I enter the shop, alerting the presence of a newcomer and I shyly glance around at everyone who lifts their head. They stare, I stare back, they look away and I make my way to the counter where a barista greets me with a bright smile.

Her hair is slicked back with a middle part, pulled to poof at the back of her head as the light bounces of off her dark melanin skin.

God to have skin as smooth and unblemished as that. She was dark,and she was fucking exquisite.

Again, my sexuality is unlabelled ladies and gentlemen.

"Hi there, with what am I helping you today miss?"
The pretty woman asks, and a smile of my own takes up half of my face when her voice immediately makes me feel welcomed.

"Oh, just one of the sweetest drinks you have available.
I'm kind of new, unless you have a menu I can look through?"
I glance around atop the counter, spotting none in sight.

"Oh, that's not a problem.
We actually don't have physical menus, but if you'd glance up, you'd spot them showcased on the flat screens just above, yes?"
She politely suggests, and my face heats when I glance up at what indeed was a digital fucking menu.

Me and my old fashioned fucking ass.

"Ah, oh my God.
Sorry, my head's not on my shoulders today, do you mind giving me a minute while I look through your available options?"
I inquire shyly, now with a gaze not meeting hers.

"Sure,take all the time you need..?"

"Kamazia,Zia for shorts."

"All the time you need Kamazia,Zia for shorts."
She giggles, a friendly smile is shown my way as she goes to help some other customers leaning over the counter for her attention.

A small smile makes it's way on my face as I look through the variety of drinks displayed.

The thought of a new possible friend,pleasant.

__

Should I make them meet in the next chapter,or are we stretching the possible events abit?

~Love,,
ConverseHigh.

ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀsᴇʜɪɢʜ

(𝑛.) 𝐀 𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭
𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝