"Yes, Ma'am. It wouldn't be an issue… No, I've had to work the cleaning crew before… Yes, Mother. The black bags as well."
This kid.
It's hard to imagine what he's already been able to accomplish in such a short time of life. What he's already had to witness and experience by the time he hit puberty could have been potentially damaging towards the mental and emotional development for someone so young.
And yet he thrives.
No complaints of any sort of fatigue that comes with such busy days.
No form of trauma from the trials and tribulations meant to break the meek.
No talk of regrets for his past, present, and future decisions.
He thrives.
Not only that…
"I will be there."
The kind of discipline and determination that Asha has displayed could make anyone question their own dedication to whatever their profession is.
It's not uncommon for the term "prodigy" to be labeled on a Fray Proxy in our esteemed Family, only the most devoted can represent The Ragnarok Law. However, the legacy spreading around Asha can be said to rival that of Our Godfather Kake, although still lacking in certain experiences. One couldn't tell me with honest pride that knowing the thirteen-year old's maturation doesn't garner that minimal feeling of inadequacy towards that kind of potential.
Even I, stand there while looking into the chrome of his eyes felt a bit left behind. Probably more so with the kind of intimate relationship I have with Smoke and knowing what I know behind closed doors and open conversations. Always having a reflective impression that it's never enough, hearing him talk with such intent makes me feel like I'm never doing enough.
But, I could never tell him that.
I could never express those emotions to a junior, regardless of the kind of relationship.
However, the thought burns deep.
*BEEP*
Once the phone call ended, the Congolese-Mexican stood stoic for a moment before shutting his eyes and exhaling a deep breath. He pointed his closed gaze towards the amethyst sun painted on the roof, the chromatic rays illuminating from the mineral star a variety of quotes written in the many languages of the Congolese and Mexican dialect.
Seeing him wearing such an encased emotion ignited those inadequate thoughts, but also drowned my intentions with compassion.
I peeked at EARTH PSYCHEDELIA carton sitting on the desk top, then back at him.
It sounded as though a katana was being unsheathed when Smoke finally opened his eyes, the tip of the blade pointed at my own gaze.
"Is everything alright?" I asked him in a calmer tone than he remembers after just looking into his thoughts for a moment.
The Congolese-Mexican released a small huff before showing a small grin to my tenderness.
Never breaking eye contact, he slowly encroached on my personal space.
My hand firmly gripped the hilt of my Short Tooth as his hands decadently palmed both my cheeks.
The softness of the thirteen-year-old's two-toned lips kissed my forehead.
Then he kissed the tip of my nose.
8 My eyes instinctually shut in anticipation to the approaching affection, almost automatically defeated by the butterflies in my belly.
When his lips connected to mine, it made my thought goes blank, everything that wasn't Asha wasn't existent.
I took a moment.
I took a moment once the affection was over and inhaled it for as long as forever would allow me.
The suave biracial teen sat back down in his desk chair, clearing his throat as he relaxed himself.
"So. What is it we were talking about?" Asha asked ever so apathetically, leaving me stapled to his decadence.
My windows opened low and slow, just peeping at the kid that could make me wilt without a word spoken.
Knowing that such intimate vices only add to those deep thoughts of inadequacies, gripping with that want for more and that need for evolution.
However, it was the nonchalant attitude in the mist of that kind of potential awakening that worried me. To truly get into that thick skull of his meant that you are the God Authority or Our Grandmother Aaja, and even then, I'm sure there are burdens he attempts to repress on his own.
Just staring at him at that exact moment, I had to know more.
For some unknown reason, I had to find out what kind of feelings, what sort of intentions were swirling in an underdeveloped psyche that's able to withstand the weight of his own genius.
My body felt like it was moving on its own when I unhook my short tooth from my hip, placing it atop the desk to grab the carton of EARTH PSYCHEDELIA next to it. He didn't move an inch as I picked up the legal energy, watching him watch me as I casually sat on the California King.
The clock ticked in between the long pause of our connected gazes; the swords were pointing my way with a leisure curiosity.
Without a second thought, I removed a clover stick wrapped in blue paper and inserted it in my lips.
There was still some of his lingering affection that remained painted over like gloss.
We locked eyes again for but a moment before Asha began to slowly lean forward, seemingly reaching for my baby Flyssa as the distance shrunk. It wasn't until his pretty face was settled right in front of me did he reveal the lighter behind the short tooth, bringing it to the tip of the legal energy protruding from my lips.
I wanted to know more.
.
.
.