Chapter 24: Attitude Adjustment

A/N: Wrote this in only a few days and I'm proud. This is a short chapter because I didn't want to clutter too much into it but it opens the door for many other things.


Awareness kicks in before you open your eyes. Grimacing, you squint against the distinguishable light behind your eyelids. Surprisingly, the blinds were pulled closed so the worst of it was diminished and incapable of blinding you. You begin to stretch into wakefulness, taking note of the slight soreness between your legs. A particular case of sleep inertia is hitting you hard. You feel an odd mix of being well-rested and not having gotten any sleep at all.

John's side of the bed is empty, which isn't that much of a surprise knowing his proclivity towards waking up early anyway. The clock on his bedside nightstand reads 11:36 in the morning. It wouldn't be the first time you slept in. You're just grateful that it wasn't past twelve in the evening when you finally woke up. You must've been so tired that you didn't hear his alarm go off.

Fortunately, the most adorable dog in the world, calmly sits watching you wake, tail wagging excitedly. It appeared that he'd been waiting at the ready.

"Good morning." You say to him.

Throwing the covers away, you brought your legs over the side of the bed and stood.

You bent down to the pooch, rubbing behind his ears. He leans his head into the palm of your hand, nuzzling it lovingly. You've learned that he'll never miss a morning pat from you.

"Where's your daddy?" You ask before striding over to the bedroom.

Due in part to you being without underwear, you simply lifted the oversized t-shirt and sat down. Peeing didn't hurt as much as it should, there's a minor sting but nothing more serious than that. It feels good to relieve your aching bladder but you're aware that urine isn't the only thing being expelled from your body. There's also some pressure in your lower back, likely from him pressing down on it. With that knowledge, you know you'll need a hot bath right after breakfast.

He's never been so demanding during sex - so rough. It was evident that he needed to exercise some demons and he decided to accomplish that through you. It was your first time being intimate in weeks so you can't complain. Admittedly, you needed it just as much as he did. It certainly took the edge off if only for a little while. Though you're not foolish enough to believe that all your problems would disappear with a little sex - you're feeling much better mentally and physically and you definitely have John and his spectacular penis to thank for that. Sex is a perfect stress reliever after all.

Could it have been what you needed all this time? Likely so.

Not only that but you noticed that the cramping in your stomach has completely receded. That doesn't mean your period won't randomly show up like a thief in the night to wreak havoc. The first two days are usually hell for remember the days your period would have you in bed writhing for hours if you didn't take any medication. Your period has proven time and time again that it's going to do whatever it wants.

You wonder as you wash your face and pick up your toothbrush.

Pulling the drawer open, you slipped on some underwear and pajama bottoms.

Sweetface trails slightly ahead of you and you've come to learn that he thinks he's escorting you. You take your time walking down each of the stairs. Just because the soreness is subtle doesn't mean it can't get worse with the wrong movement. When you walk into the kitchen, you find John sitting at the table reading a newspaper with a steaming cup of coffee sitting next to him. A smile instantly finds its way on your lips. You didn't know people still read newspapers aside from the elderly. But to actually witness him doing it, it's such an old man thing for him.

"Good Morning."

He glances at you from over the paper. "Good Morning."

It was too late for you to try and cook breakfast plus you didn't really feel like it. You briefly think about settling on something light and grabbing an orange from the fridge but you prefer to operate on a full stomach this morning.

The smell of coffee is in the air and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

Bowl in hand, you sit down at the table beside him. Using the spoon, you carefully dip the cereal further in the milk by force of habit. You hate eating dry cereal.

"So…I applied for a few jobs yesterday." You explained as you munched on the sweetened cereal.

"I figured." He didn't say much more about it so you couldn't tell if he was bothered by the admission or not.

Aside from that, there's another matter you want to address. You still want to know what that was about.

"So last night, what was that about?" You voiced.

John's gaze shifts to yours, his brows lifting a fraction at the question.

The newspaper is then neatly folded and placed on the surface of the table beside the cup.

He regards you intensely, scanning your body with concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"

Your gaze falls to the edge of the table. "Yeah I'm fine. I actually feel a lot better than I have in a while. It's just…you never. We never-" You were having the hardest time finding the words you wanted to convey to him.

John dips his head forward patiently, awaiting your proper response.

"You never fucked me like that before." You finished. "Did I make you angry? Is it about me searching for a job?"

His eyes softened. And just like that the light conversation had grown that much more intense. You're curious as to what his response will be. Last night, the man was committed to knocking your uterus out of place.

John's big warm hand slides under your chin, lifting your face back towards his. Soft lips enveloped yours thereafter. That one kiss seemed to dissipate any concerns you might've had straight away.

Your eyes shift to a particular advertisement on the printed paper.

"No. If having a job brings you happiness then I would not selfishly impede on that happiness."

You stiffen just as the man scoops you up from the chair and brings you in his lap.

All you want not is for things to get better. It's a normal response when a person is going through significant life changes.

In the newspaper, you spot various sections and advertisements etched toward the holidays. In that instant, you had an epiphany. In your mood, you'd forgotten that Christmas was fast approaching. At one point, all the days seemed meshed together so it was virtually easy for you to lose track. The truth is you're really excited for the holidays. Christmas is easily your favorite holiday and what better way to amplify the festive mood by embellishing everything in décor?

And you can use the card he gave you to buy anything you need. Why have all that money and not put it to good use? He told you to use it on whatever you wanted.

"Is there something you want for Christmas in particular? I'm not that good at finding gifts for men but I want yours to be special." You confessed awkwardly.

This was also the prime time to start searching and buying gifts for everyone which wasn't an issue for you. The real issue is how shopping for men is ridiculously difficult. Getting a gift for your father each year was only made easy because of your mother. You couldn't rely on her advice for John for obvious reasons. To you, he's not a typical man. What would he like to receive as a gift that he doesn't already have?

He appeared to think on the query for a moment before providing you with a solid answer. "Surprise me."

A surprise huh? You can manage that.

Just then, an idea began floating around in your head. "Can I also set up decorations around the house?"

The request is unexpected but not impractical. "Yes." He responds. He was probably wondering why you'd undergone such a change in attitude so abruptly.

"I know it sounds strange coming from me but I guess I'd just appreciate a change in scenery. I'm tired of seeing the same old things over and over."

"I just thought I'd ask beforehand. This is your house after all." You added.

"Our."

"Huh?" You query, dumbfounded.

He looks at you evenly with those intense deep chocolate eyes. "Our house."

That familiar warm feeling rose in your chest. You don't know why that statement made your heart start beating faster, seemingly close to bursting out of your chest. This man…he was really something.


You're not in any sort of denial - you're fully prepared to throw your mind elsewhere to escape the hold of mild depression you've been under. As of now, you'd do anything to avoid those terrible feelings even if that meant using the holidays as a distraction. Besides, the next semester was right around the corner and you had a lot to look forward to.

You promptly did a clean sweep of the apartment, lighting an incense to fill the space with a more refreshing fragrance - turning on music as you go.

Though it wasn't messy, the apartment can really benefit from a little cleaning. Cleaning technically counts as a good stress reliever. Then again it's been a while since you've spent a good amount of time here. Despite having just been at the apartment the day prior you don't know why it feels like you weren't.

Just putting things back where they belonged gave you immense satisfaction. You put away the random clutter first; scattered mail, articles of clothing draped across the furniture. Then moving around wiping the corner tops with a cleaning solution since there's no dishes for you to wash and put away. You even broke out the old duster you barely use.

As you dust over the tall shelf between the kitchen and living room, you observed that one of the pictures was nearly concealed behind another. You kept it facing forward but it was now turned slightly on a ninety degree angle. Funnily enough, you don't remember it being positioned that way. You right the picture back in its original place.

You spent nearly an hour cleaning until you finally felt compelled to rest. It's the main reason why you continued until you finished because you know that sitting down in the midst of cleaning is a dangerous game. You flop down on the bed unceremoniously. It felt like forever since you'd been in your own bed.

Until now, you didn't realize how much you missed the sight of your own bedroom.

Glancing over, you spot your laptop on the desk in the corner by the window. You don't even bother entertaining the thought of opening the laptop check on the status of the applications. It's way too soon to receive any news regarding them anyway. The urge to do it anyway is still there even though you know you prolly won't receive a proper response for at least two weeks at best. The hiring process will probably be even longer with how lazy the hiring managers are these days. You're a bit anxious but not overly desperate.

Next to the desk is a small bookcase where three books sit atop the surface untouched. They were books you checked out from the library and never got around to reading. Pulling yourself from the bed, you walk over and pursue the covers of the books. All three have due dates that are close to expiring and you'll have to take them back to the store. Stacking those books back together, you turn your attention to a half cracked open drawer containing your clothes, this drawer in particular containing only your undergarments.

Though your bra and panties share the same drawer, both have their own designated side. Usually, your underwear drawer was arranged in how often you wore them but you don't necessarily remember it being this unorganized. You could've rifled through it while packing clothes to stay with John but that's not you at all. You still would leave the contents nearly folded.

You could just be imagining things but then again…you're not going to stress about it.


"Dang ma, you weren't playing this year." You asked incredulously as you stared at the many decorations accompanying your parents house. "How long did it take you to put all this up?"

"Oh about five hours no thanks to your daddy. He didn't do nothing but complain the whole time." She replied.

When you walked in, you went straight to their fridge and helped yourself to a glass of apple juice. You can't recall the last time you had any. You'd forgotten how refreshing it was.

She has a roller set in her hair that she probably won't take down until the following day.

"I bet." You said, still looking around. "I came over to see if you wanted to go Christmas shopping with me but…you clearly got yours done already."

She went all out every year but this was over the top two times. You only wished she told you when she planned to put them up. Some of the older decorations were mixed in with the new ones and you loved it. Certainly a new record for her. You don't know who she's trying to impress but she definitely understood the assignment. It all looked good. You refuse to believe she wasn't an interior designer in her past life.

"Well, you know I start right after Thanksgiving." She asked in a concerned voice. "You alright?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"I know when something's wrong with you. So are you gonna tell me or not?" She lightly pressed.

A sliver of anxiety suddenly comes over you at her insistence. "I'm okay now but I was in a bit of a depression for a while."

"About what?"

"A mixture of things…being unemployed, wanting to go back to school, not having much to do. Kind of took a toll but I feel better now, I think it was just a mini crisis about life." You sighed again.

She tilted her head forward, considering your words. "Child, you are too young to be going through a life crisis."

"You sure? Because that was definitely a life crisis." You lean back with a huff.

"Just pray about it. God will make something happen, you just need to have faith that he will and be patient."

You exhaled heavily. That's the thing though. You're all out of patience, you want something to happen now. "Does daddy know somebody that can give me a job?"

"Girl, you really think your daddy wants you to work? Hell, he doesn't even want me to have a job." She scoffed. "Matter of fact, I ain't had to work a job since you were born."

"One thing I will say though - if you gon get another job, don't let it be in another bar working the night shift this time." She scolded. "Don't rush it. Things will happen in their own time."

"What do you do to pass the time then?" You asked.

She placed a hand on her hip. "Stuff I enjoy. Cleaning the house, getting my nails and hair done. Catering to your daddy."

You honestly didn't need that last bit of information. "Ma, I do all that stuff already."

"Oh so you cater to your lil friend?" She teases, eyeing you over her cup of coffee. It's never boyfriend with Black parents, it's always 'lil friend.'

You shocked your head, annoyed at the turn of conversation. "You didn't hear me say anything like that."

She leaned against the counter, weighing her next choice of words carefully. "You're still spending Christmas with us right?"

"That's the plan."

"Will your little friend come too?"

So she's expecting John to make an appearance? Interesting. You ponder while you continue sipping the glass of apple juice.

You'd been keeping John a secret so long it was bizarre that your parents were finally cognizant of him. You want him to start thinking that he's a part of your family now. Including him in family events will have that desired effect.

"Maybe. I haven't asked him." You shrugged.

"Hmm. Well just let me know, so it won't be a surprise for your father." She explains with a smirk on her face.

Even though your mother doesn't convey it, you know your father still hasn't accepted the situation - the situation being that his only daughter has started bringing a man around. Meeting John the first time without warning at Thanksgiving definitely had him feeling some type of way and you didn't know how to remedy that. The fact that he hasn't fussed at you about it is already a huge surprise as you could've sworn it was coming sooner or later.

After spending another half hour conversing with your mother, you eventually bid her goodbye and took your leave. The outside air hits your skin during the walk to your car and an unknown queasy feeling suddenly makes itself known. The dizziness hits you with the force of a speeding Mac truck all at once that your walk nearly slows to a complete stop. A hand flies to your mouth. Your stomach is unsettled, if the precipitous tightening there is any indication.

What you thought was a burp coming up winds up being a huge heap of your stomach contents. It comes up much faster than you anticipate and your hand gets caught directly in the crossfire when you don't pull it away fast enough. It shoots out with enough force to make you double over. The taste of apple juice is pungent but fleeting in your mouth. In retrospect, you can admit that you feel inexplicably better after the fact. That apple juice must've expired, as you don't remember checking the date before you poured yourself a glass.

All you know now is that you're disgusted at the wetness coating your hand. On the ground, the vomit decorates the frosted grass in a bizarre fashion and you can't help but stare at it. All you had to eat this morning was a bowl of cereal, if that's the case, why did it hurt so much coming up? With that thought in mind, you turned to head back into the house to wash your hand.


Like a jackass, you actually went out and braved the harsh weather in order to go procure Christmas decorations to put up around the house. The department stores were loaded with all kinds of items that struck your fancy right away. You found all kinds of trinkets, like snow globes, figurines, and candles. The stores were busy but not as crowded as you expected them to be. Just people doing last minute shopping, same as you. And that was quite the feat for Fifth Avenue. Regardless, you didn't want to stay out long so you stuck to the smaller stores for peace of mind. You ended up leaving right before the sun began to set around six.

In spite of the fact that you lingered in the women's clothing department for too long and it was cold out, in your mind, there's nothing worse than a long checkout line. Fifth Avenue would become unbearable and you can't tolerate random bodies pushing against you carelessly. The crowds tend to get massive during the evenings and you knew it was best to go earlier. Predictably, the city is already adorned with a multitude of shimmering lights and holiday displays.

John would've most certainly disapproved, which is exactly why you didn't expressly tell him that you planned to go shopping today. Though you had a feeling he already knew since the man didn't look that much surprised when you pulled up with a car full of shopping bags. He didn't ask you for an explanation - he just opened the car door and brought them into the house.

Your car was filled to capacity with bags and you're sure that John had a grand old time bringing them all in the house. He lingered around watching you excitedly turn the house into a giant ornament. It's so sweet of him to indulge you like you like this. Though you couldn't tell what he made of all this, you can only try your hand at guessing.

With how much energy was required to focus on the inside decorations, any outdoor Christmas decorations were a no-go. You wouldn't even waste your time thinking of putting any up. When you were finished, it was going to look like a winter wonderland all throughout the house. You wanted a mini tree in every room in the house. You cringed inwardly.

God, you were starting to act like your mother and it was starting to bother you.

The only thing left for you to do is get an actual tree and gifts. But that can be arranged for another trip. It was starting to look a lot like Christmas and that's ultimately what the end goal was. You're not entirely sure who's going to take it all down but the visual is still pleasant nonetheless. Aside from a slight headache, you felt fine. You're in the midst of hanging snowflake string lights along the walls when an odd feeling becomes palpable.

Hanging up ornaments was definitely one of the more demanding tasks and you needed a ladder for it. You were starting to feel the sensation of a nasty headache but you were determined not to let it deter you so you pushed on.

A wave of dizziness washes over you again and at the worst possible time too. Your balance is off to the point where you're almost swaying on the ladder and you struggle to regain it. Even more concerning, your vision is blurring. The ladder shakes as you attempt to regain control of your senses.

"Milaya?" John's voice calls out to you but you can barely hear him.

The headache has become that much more intense - to be exact…it has your head pounding. It's so bad that it's essentially crippled your other five senses.

For a brief moment, you fear that you're going to fall and break something. Luckily, your lover is there to right the ladder back in place.

"That's enough for today." He bids.

You're aware that you're in no condition to continue so you don't fight him at all on the sentiment. He helps assist you to climb down as carefully as you can manage.

"Are you alright?"

"I think so…I just started feeling weird out of nowhere." You whisper.

The dizziness hits you harder now. Your legs felt too weak to hold you up anymore. In trying to steady yourself and walk you nearly end up dropping to the floor only to be caught before you can start the dissent. John is quick to envelop you within his arms, having made the deduction that something wasn't quite right.

His eyes have turned sharp in their exploration of you.

You're swiftly hoisted up into his arms. Your body shook as if cold but you were beginning to feel unpleasantly hot all over. Your head is pounding something serious and you think it's possible that you could've come down with an illness after being out in the cold weather. It is flu season after all. When you threw up earlier you started feeling okay right afterwards so you quickly wrote it off as nothing. It's only now that you realize that you should've been more concerned about your condition.

You can feel his hand against your forehead, obviously taking note of your temperature and you watch as his face darkens for a moment. His expression tells you exactly what you need to know. With as cool as his hand feels, you must be hot to the touch.

With a new initiative, John begins carrying you upstairs to the shared bedroom. With your head on his chest, you can feel how hard his heart is pounding inside. And that look on his face…it's almost fearful. But then again it could just be your imagination.


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