Don't Be Cruel

Candace Vega looked out the window of her apartment and frowned, seeing the clouds covering the sun. She chewed on the eraser of her pencil in thought, her nose wrinkling out of habit. She absentmindedly reached for her coffee cup, only to find that is was empty.

A flurry of curses flew out of her mouth and she got up from her desk chair, all 5’7 of her filled to the brim with annoyance.

She stomped to the kitchen and eyed her keurig. When she saw her usually ample display of kcups was missing, she opened her pantry, but there was nothing of the caffeine persuasion to be found.

Candy walked to her bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweatpants to cover her skivvies and decided to keep her bandeau uncovered. She grabbed her tote bag and placed her reading glasses in her hair, which was messily pulled into a ponytail at the crown of her head. She nudged on a pair of flats and trotted out of her home.

The pinkette placed earbuds in her ears and shoved her hands in the pockets of her pants as she walked down the street. The sun was covered by white clouds but streams of light still shined through.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets and chewed on her lip, bobbing her head to the beat of an old disco song. She turned the corner of her street and saw her destination come into view; 7-Eleven. Ironically, the song began to play in her headphones.

“Smack it, smack it, in the air.” She muttered, opening the door the the establishment. The scents of gas, burnt pizza and cars filled her nostrils as she went down the home aisle to find her treasured Starbucks cups. As her eyes trailed over the different coffee, she caught sight of her new obsession.

As discreetly as possible, she snuck glances over the stands, adamantly pretending to look for her coffee.

When Candy tried to sneak another peek, he was gone. She furrowed her brows and actually started to look for her coffee. When she found it, she picked it up and headed toward the register, placing her item on the counter.

“Will that be all for you?” The attendant asked and Candy opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted. A hand reached over her and placed a reese's, water and two slushies on the counter with her coffee.

“These too.” Erik added, not looking at her as he paid the attendant.

Candy looked up at him and waited until he turned to meet her gaze before rolling her eyes, looking off to the side with a smile. Erik was handed a bag with all their items and he grabbed the two slushies, walking away from Candy. He looked over his shoulder expectantly and the pinkette rushed to open the door for him.

They walked down the sidewalk side by side, Erik being the first to speak like always. “Red or blue?” He questioned, holding up the slushies.

Candy hummed before taking the red from him and taking a sip. “Are you following me?” She blurted, making Erik smirk.

“Nah,” He said, taking a sip of his slushie, “I’m not the one who was starin’ so hard from the other aisle.”

“I was not.” Candy protested weakly, looking off to the side.

“Yeah, okay.” Erik looked at her from the corner of his eye, “Why you at home anyway, don’t you work?”

Candy nodded, “From home. I’m a writer for the post on contract. I barely have to go in.”

“So they payin’ you to go to seven eleven?”

The pinkette scoffed, “I was out of coffee and needed inspiration. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Chill out, ma.” Erik replied boredly, rolling his eyes, “I was just fuckin’ witchu’.”

“That’s all you seem to do lately.” Candy grumbled under her breath, going in the door of their complex as he held it open for her. She caught sight of his little smirk before she pressed the button to the elevator.

The lift doors opened and the two of them stepped in, Erik a little closer to Candy. She tried to ignore the brush of their bare arms against each other and willed for their floor to come faster.

“I read one of your articles.” Erik stated, seemingly out of thin air, “It was good.”

“Forreal?” Candy questioned, biting her lip.

“Yeah,” Her neighbor nodded, “I saw you got a letter from the post so I looked you up. Gotta know who your neighbors are.”

His last words seemed to carry a double meaning but Candy didn’t harp on it, instead very excited that someone would go out of their way to read her work. She slurped on her slushie before glancing over at Erik, who was already watching her.

“You stain’ real hard over there.” Candy quipped, her easy smile dropping when she met his eye again. “What?”

Erik only smirked in reply, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, his gaze still steady. Candy looked right back at him, taking a long sip of her slushy. The tension between them thickened in the elevator and as the doors opened, neither of them moved to leave.

Biting her lip, Candy was the first to turn away, leaving the elevator. She walked to her door and put the key into the lock, but paused as she heard her name.

“Candy.”

The pinkette turned around and looked up at Erik expectantly, only for him to hold up her k-cups. She reached out to take them but he held them over her head, laughing as she tried to reach them. Planting her feet firmly on the ground and putting down her slushie, she crossed her arms.

Candy whined breathily, “Erik.” A quiet gasp leaving her mouth as she was pressed against her door. She swallowed thickly and looked into Erik’s dark eyes, her lashes fluttering.

“What?” Erik questioned darkly, his words heavy.

Candy opened her mouth to speak but her voice was caught in her throat, leaving her mouthing nothing like a fish gasping for breath. A hand was pinned to his chest and she could feel the little raised bumps under his shirt. “Why,” She finally was able to get out, “You messin’ with me, Erik? You haven’t even said shit to me since-!”

“I’m saying something now, ain’t I?”

“You know what I mean.” Candy retorted, his fuckboy logic annoying her. She searched his eyes for a moment before rolling her own, “You think just cuz I let you hit I’m just open for business, you think I’m just a pair of legs for yo’ ass to spread? I fuckin’ hate niggas like you-!”

Candy was interrupted again, this time by a rough kiss. She dropped her attitude and hastily wrapped her arms around his neck, jumping up and swinging her legs around his hips. The pinkette was easily lifted up and she shivered as Erik’s bare hands slid under her sweatpants to cup her ass.

“We have got to stop doing this.” She breathed against his lips before kissing him again. Erik just chuckled deeply and pressed her harder against the door. He tasted like an old blunt and blueberry slush, an odd but pleasing mixture that made her suck his tongue for more. “You taste good.” She muttered.

“Fuck.” Erik rasped, dropping her to her feet. He turned her around by her hips and forced her head against her door, slipping his hand under her sweatpants and finding her clit instantly.

Candy bit her lip to keep in her moans and her eyes fluttered closed as Erik pressed his erection on her ass. She felt him lean over her, his front pressed against her back as he muttered, “I’m ‘bout to fuck the shit out you, Candy girl.”

Just as he gripped the band of her pants to pull them down, a door down the hallway opened and Candy scrambled to stand up straight, turning her key in the lock and pulling Erik into her apartment. She hurriedly shut the door and looked out her peephole, seeing one of their other neighbors walking past her door.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Candy turned around to find Erik gone. “What the hell?” She mumbled as she glanced into her bathroom. Finding nothing, she walked to her bedroom but he wasn’t in there either.

“Erik?” Candy called, passing her study. She backpedaled two steps and finally found him looking at the pictures on her office wall. She leaned against her doorway and watched him, a curious expression on her face.

“You went to Howard.” Erik stated, rather than questioned as he studied her diploma. “Why you ain’t go to a white school?”

Candy furrowed her brows, slightly insulted, “My granddaddy went to Howard, my daddy and mama went to Howard, so I went to Howard. I could’ve gone to Columbia but they wouldn’t have loved me like Howard loved me.”

Erik glanced back at her and his gaze appraising before turning back to her wall. It was almost like he was looking at an exhibit in a museum, his hands behind his back.

“You wrote articles for the NAACP?”

“My first writing job in college was for the Black Student union newspaper so they took notice. I wrote this article about the colorism in Howard’s greek life and it got nationwide acclaim.” Candy explained with a shrug, as a chime on her computer went off.

Padding over to her desk, she sat in her chair and put her reading glasses over her eyes, logging in to check her email.

“You kind of young to have a masters.” Erik commented on the side.

“I graduated early.” Candy absentmindedly answered the unspoken question, typing a response to her work email. Grabbing her tooth marked pencil, she flipped open a document to the side of her and scanned it, looking for the change that her editor wanted her to make. She didn’t notice Erik creeping up on her until he was right over her shoulder.

“‘Colonizing Hip Hop’?” Her neighbor read, making her jump. She looked at him over her glasses and nodded, turning back to her monitor. “You one of them black panther bitches, huh?”

Candy scowled and took off her glasses, looking at Erik fully, “You got a problem with that?” She questioned before rolling her eyes, “I was ‘bout to let your comment on HBCUs slide but now you not down with struggle either? Uh uh, you gotta get up out my house-!”

“Chill out, chill out.” Erik interjected, leaning on her desk, “You ready to crucify me and shit you ain’t even let me finish.”

“Then hurry up ‘fore I kick you out, forreal.”

“Aight, aight. I was just about to say that I like that shit.” The man complimented gruffly, nodding his head in approval, “You stand for something, that’s what’s up.”

“Oh,” Candy dumbly replied, leaning back in her chair, “I didn’t mean… I mean… You’d be surprised how many times I got the opposite response.” She explained, before narrowing her eyes, “But don’t call me a bitch again.”

“Aight, my black nubian queen.” Erik quipped with a smirk, turning her chair around to face him. “My afro-tastic sister.”

“Afro-tastic.” Candy snorted, as the man lowered himself down to peck her lips. She held up her hand to block it and shook her head. “What are we doin’ here, Erik?”

Erik sucked his teeth and stood up straight again, leaning against the wall. “Whatchu’ mean?”

“I mean,” Candy started, playing with a pencil, “We can’t keep fucking like rabbits.”

Erik snickered, teasing, “Why not? Don’t you like me, pinkie?”

“Don’t call me that.” Candy snapped childishly, pointing the pencil at him, “And I don’t even know, you be botherin’ me all the time. We ain’t never just… kick it.”

“You said you didn’t want to kick it with me.” Erik accused, turning the situation around.

“Uh uh, Erik. You not gon’ fuckboy your way out of this.” Candy scowled, crossing her arms, “Y’know you just was tryna’ fuck when you asked me to come over.”

“That’s your vain mind imprinting your judgements on me.”

“Boy shut the fuck up.” Candy bickered, watching him snicker at her. “You ain’t slick.”

“Aight, aight.” Erik rolled his eyes, grasping the armrests of her chair and leaning down, “Let’s chill, then.”

“What?” Candy babbled, completely taken off guard.

“You wanna kick it, let’s kick it. You and me.”

“Forreal?” The pinkette questioned, her eyes wide.

“No for fake.” Erik quipped dryly and she scowled, “Yeah, let’s smoke and talk or whatever.”

“Right now?” Candy asked as Erik pulled her up from the chair. He nodded and motioned to follow him with his head, walking out of the study. The pinkette did and soon they were walking next door. He opened his door for her and she padded inside, taking a seat on the couch as he disappeared into his bedroom.

Looking around the room, she started to notice little details that she didn’t before. Like how pristine Erik kept his apartment, or how it smelt like pine. There were little trinkets placed on the coffee table and as she reached out to touch one, Erik walked back in the room with a wooden box. He sat down next to her and opened it, revealing rolling papers and weed. He then began to roll them a blunt.

It was like watching a surgeon. Every move was meticulous and calculated. His eyes narrowed and he scowled when he overloaded it a bit. Rolling it just right, he licked his lips before sealing it with his tongue. Taking out an expensive looking lighter, he puffed on it a few times before holding it out for her.

Candy took it in her fingers and did the ritual actions; puff, puff, pass. Soon, they were both sitting on the floor.

“You got all this shit in your house Erik,” Candy accused before narrowing her eyes, “What do you do?”

Erik held the blunt in his mouth for a moment before passing it to her, “I’m special forces.” He breathed, croaking a bit.

“Damn, you be killin’ people, huh?” The pinkette questioned, half her inhibitions gone.

Erik’s eyes stayed on her for a long moment before he nodded mutely, a smirk on his lips. “That scare you, Candy girl?”

Silently, Candy nodded her head, passing him the blunt. “How can you work for such an imperialistic system? After all they did to us?”

“It’s part of a higher calling, pinkie.” Erik informed her before dismissing, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m not stupid, E.” Candy retorted, leaning her head against the couch, “I’m sure if you explained it, I’d get it.”

“Just drop that shit, okay?” Erik snapped darkly, making her jump, “I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about it.”

Candy blinked and shut her mouth, her high soured a bit by his temper. She closed her eyes and let the high return to her, relaxing against the couch.

There was a silence before Erik spoke again. “Where are you from?” He inquired lowly.

“Silver Springs.” Candy answered without opening her eyes.

“Yo’ bougie ass would be from Silver Springs. ”

“Yo’ dickhead ass would be from Oakland.” The pinkette retorted dryly, rolling her head to look at him. “I grew up with a little money, so what?”

“So what,” Erik mocked with a scowl, “So you act like it.”

“No I do-!”

“You’re uppity.”

“Erik why the fuck you got me over here if you feel some kinda way then?” Candy questioned, sitting up completely. “If I’m just some bougie bitch from Silver Springs?” She paused and waited for answer. “I got a question for you now, what the fuck have you done for the betterment of black people? Huh? Nothing? That’s what I thought.”

“You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about or who you talkin’ to.” Erik evenly replied, his jaw clenched. “I’m about to help all our people around the world. That’s more than your trash ass articles for the Post do.”

Candy huffed and moved to get up from the floor but Erik grabbed her wrist before she could.

“Aye, wait,” Erik muttered, and she looked back at him angrily, “I didn’t… I ain’t mean it like that, Candy.”

“Yeah you did.” The pinkette retorted, yanking her wrist from him, “You did and honestly even if you didn’t you always got some shit to say about me.” She spat out before shaking her head, “This was a bad idea, my fault.” She got up from the floor again and left the apartment, trotting to her own and locking the door.

Candy let out a deep sigh and slumped all the way to her bed, falling into it and closing her eyes.

Erik Stevens was a hateful asshole.

It was obvious as day. He was terrible. One minute everything would be fun and fine and the next he would be a monster. All that gorgeous skin couldn’t hide the fact that Erik Stevens was angry. At who, she didn’t know but he took it out on whoever was closest.

She would not make the mistake of being closest again.

Feeling upset and inebriated, she picked up her phone and called her best friend Desiree. She picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Ray I hate him.”

“Aw hell.” The confidant chimed, “What he do?”

“He’s rude, arrogant, self serving, manipulative-!”

“Bitch it’s only been a month.”

“So!” Candy snapped with a scowl, “He told me my articles were trash!”

Desiree gasped loudly, “Oh fuck him. You don’t need him bitch, you need to go out and find you a nice guy.”

“Honestly Ray I’d rather be alone-!” A knock on her door interrupted her. “Hold up, girl.”

Candy got up from her bed and padded to the door, looking through her peephole. She rolled her eyes, “Go away, Erik.”

“I got your coffee.”

“I don’t care, Erik.”

“You tell him girl!”

Candy blinked and hung up the phone, slipping it into her pocket and leaning against her door.

“Candy don’t be like that-!”

“Erik get the fuck away from my door.”

“Candace.”

Rolling her eyes and cursing herself, Candy pushed off the door and cracked it, peeking out from her chain lock.

When he caught her eye he shook her box of k cups. She reached out to get them but he pulled them just out of reach. Grumbling, Candy slammed the door and undid the chain lock, opening it completely.

“Give me my fucking coffee.” She muttered as she snatched it from his hand. She moved to close the door but he stopped her, easily entering her apartment. Candy didn’t bother to fight. “You talk to me real crazy.” She accused as she moved to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. “And I’m tired of it. In all honesty, I ain’t tryna talk to you no more.”

“That’s fair, but you gon’ let me speak?”

“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” Candy retorted, pressing the button on her keurig. “I made up my mind.”

“But you are gon’ let me speak?” Erik repeated and Candy turned around and crossed her arms, motioning for him to go. “Aight, look Candy I ain’t mean to insult your work like that, okay? Forreal, I didn’t. You just said that shit about-!”

“So this is my faul-!”

“Can I speak?” Erik questioned his jaw tightening again. Candy motioned for him to continue. He took a deep breath, “Aight, like I was sayin’. I ain’t mean to do that. You shit is good and it does help people in some kinda way. You about our people and that’s what’s up, ‘cause I am too. Where we differ though is that you do it by words, I’m about action.”

“Okay we Martin and Malcolm but what that got to do with you insulting me everytime we get together?”

Erik’s nostrils flared and he looked down, his jaw tense. Candy rolled her eyes and took her mug from the keurig, adding just two sugars and stirring. “Okay, get up out my house then since-!”

“I don’t know how to talk to you.”

Candy almost dropped her mug but she put it behind her instead, trying to do the equations in her head to decode what he just said. All her brain could come up with was, “What?”

Erik sucked his teeth, “You ain’t even look at me for a whole month after I moved in.”

“So?”

“So?” Erik repeated, shrugging his shoulders, “You fine, you smart, you got a real job. You out here doin’ shit, ma. I ain’t never met a shorty like you. You match my attitude. The only way I got you to even talk to me was stealing your mail.”

“Nigga what?” Candy gaped, “That’s a federal offense, Erik.”

The man rolled his eyes, “I’ve done worse.”

“I’m sure this sounds sweeter in your dreaded head, Erik, but right now this is real creepy. And you called me a bougie bitch.”

“You are.” Erik insisted with a smirk, before biting his lip, “But I like that shit.”

“You really tryna’ run game on me, huh?” Candy questioned, sipping her coffee, “Like I ain’t never heard this shit from a guy before. You all say that until I’m makin’ more money than you or I say some shit you don’t like.”

“You always sayin’ shit I don’t like.” Erik maintained with a teasing smirk. He took a step closer to her and picked up one of her braids, running his fingers down the pattern.

She looked at him for a moment before shaking her head, taking another sip of coffee. “You so full of shit.” She muttered, hiding her budding smile behind her mug. “You so full of shit.”

“Nah,” Erik rasped back as his hand trailed to her bare shoulder. “I’m feelin’ this independent thing you got goin’ on.”

“You feelin’ the ass I gave you twice.” Candy retorted, shrugging off his hand. “I’m not tryna’ do this with you, Erik. You can find some other girl to fuck, shit you’ve been doin’ it for the past two months.”

“This ain’t about fuckin’,” Erik shook his head while pulling the rubber band from her ponytail, “It’s about you and me.”

“There is no you and me.” Candy refuted, tugging away from him again, “And stop touching my hair.”

“C’mon, ma.” Erik nearly whined, standing over her and trapping her against the counter, “What I gotta do?”

Candy rolled her eyes and sipped from her mug, looking at both his arms at the side of her. “I dunno, be nice?”

Erik scowled, his upper lip curling, “I am nice.”

The pinkette shook her head, licking the coffee from her lips, “If that’s you being nice then I’d hate to see you mean.”

Thinking hard for a moment, Erik sucked his teeth. Lowering down, he picked Candy up by her waist and she hurriedly wrapped her legs around his middle. She nearly dropped her coffee as he walked to her couch and sat them both down, her straddling his lap.

Erik took the mug from her hands and put it on the coffee table, his hands falling on the small of her back and pressing soothing circles into her skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Candy questioned, her face very close to Erik’s.

Erik’s tone was clipped as he replied, “Being nice.” His hands moved up and Candy slowly melted under his ministrations.

His hands were warm against her bareskin and he seemed to know all the pressure points to make her relax.

Candy’s gaze left Erik’s and fell to his white tee, his keloids slightly raising the fabric. Furrowing her brows, she brushed her hands against his chest, curiosity in her eyes. “Why?” She whispered, forgetting that she was speaking. Her brown eyes flickered to his face and she saw his jaw clench, but he said nothing, instead kneading into a knot on her back.

The pinkette lightly placed her hands under his shirt, caressing the raised skin. She felt his abdomen contract under her palms and she looked up at him seeing his eyes closed and nostrils flared.

This was… different. He almost looked normal.

Erik’s hands finally worked their way to her neck and pushed her braids aside his thumbs digging on either side of her spine.

Candy closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder, shuddering as his hands then slipped under her sweatpants again and massaged her cheeks. Her nagging high returned and she felt like she was floating, so when Erik buried a hand in her braids and turned her head, she welcomed the kiss eagerly.

The man smack his lips against hers and caressed her mouth with his tongue, maneuvering her head where he wanted it. Pushing her hips further into his, he nibbled on her bottom lip before pulling away.

“I can be nice.” Erik rasped, smoothing a hand over her back.

“Mhmm,” Candy hummed in a haze, a lazy smile on her lips, “You can be real nice to me against this couch, Erik.”

A salacious grin spread across her neighbors face and soon she was barebacked on the couch, her feet by her ears and her voice shrill.

“Erik!” She whined, holding him close to her, “Be nice!”

“I’m ‘bouta be nice all over your fuckin’ stomach.”