He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and pulled her to him. The music swelled, the bassline thumping in his chest, a, yes, chaotic, beautiful heartbeat of a love that was, in its own way, as "redbone" as she was.
Marcus was tired, his heart heavy with the paranoia that had become his constant companion. He loved her—God, he loved her—but the insecurity was a cold weight in his stomach. He’d seen the way she looked at others, the way she seemed to exist in a space that he couldn't quite reach. Redbone
"You coming?" she asked, her voice soft, breaking through his thoughts. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and
"Stay woke," he whispered, a mantra he couldn't help but repeat. “Too late,” the song seemed to echo in his mind. He loved her—God, he loved her—but the insecurity
“Stay woke,” the falsetto sang, a haunting warning that hung in the air.