S/O to Kenji for editing.
It's been three weeks since Yasmine saw Gio. She would drive past his house, but every time she went by, there appeared to be no one home. At first, Yasmine assumed that Gio was just busy with work or dealing with personal issues. However, she had heard Gio was on medical leave for personal reasons. The more she tried to contact him, the more she felt like something was off.
But after weeks of radio silence, Yasmine started to fear something was seriously wrong. She tried reaching out to Gio's other friends, that she knew he shared with King, but they either didn't know what was going on, or weren't willing to tell her. Yasmine began chewing on her fingernails. She wasn't sure if anyone knew anything about Gio. All they could say to her was to go by his house to check on him. Yasmine thought it was crazy, she didn't know where he stayed.
Yasmine knew she needed to talk to Gio, and it was a burning urgency. She wasn't sure why, but she needed to see him and apologize. Yasmine knew she needed to mend or salvage her relationship with Gio. If not, she would be alone, and she didn't want that.
Finally, Yasmine decided to take matters into her own hands. Yasmine drove to Gio's house and parked outside. She looked around and saw Gio's car in the driveway, but the lights were off. Yasmine sat in the car for an hour, before finally deciding whether or not she would leave. Heading towards Gio's door, Yasmine felt the sweat on her brow, the furious way her heart pounded with each step. Yasmine's lips were dry, and oddly, when she stuck out her tongue to moisten them, it trembled as if the effort were too much for her. Yasmine knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Yasmine tried calling Gio's phone again, but it went straight to voicemail, as she stood there, feeling helpless and frustrated.
Yasmine looked around to ensure no one was watching and then went to the back of the house. Yasmine found an unlocked window and climbed inside. She stumbled around in the dark, until she found a light switch. When she turned on the lights, she saw the house was in disarray. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, the furniture was overturned, and the kitchen counters were cluttered with dirty dishes.
Yasmine called out Gio's name, but there was no answer. She searched every room, but he wasn't there. Yasmine's heart raced, as she tried to figure out what could have happened to Gio. Suddenly, Yasmine heard a faint sound coming from the basement.
Yasmine crept down the stairs and saw Gio huddled in a corner, his face pale and his eyes wild. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. They both stared blankly at each other.
Gio found himself tangled in the depths of despair. His heart was heavy with pain, and thoughts of hopelessness clouded his mind. Gio believed he had reached the end of his rope. Convinced that life held no solace for him, Gio made a haunting decision that would change everything, but why, out of all days, did Yasmine show up? With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Gio clasped the gun tightly within his grip, contemplating a dreadful fate. The weight of his burdens seemed unbearable, suffocating him with every breath. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the despot in his heart.
Gio stood in his dimly lit basement, his despair-filled eyes fixed upon the weapon clutched in his trembling hand. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness, as if time had ceased to exist. Yasmine's heart broke at the sight before her, but she knew she had to remain strong. Summoning every ounce of courage, she slowly approached Gio, speaking in a voice laced with tenderness and determination.
"Gio, please," she pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion. "Please, put the gun down so we can talk."
Gio's tear-filled eyes met Yasmine's unwavering gaze, a flicker of recognition and vulnerability passing between them. At that moment, the gun began to feel impossibly heavy in his hand, as he contemplated the weight of his actions. A surge of emotion coursed through Gio's veins, his hands trembling with the battle between despair and anger again. Why was Yasmine here now? He took a shaky breath, his grip on the gun loosening, as he felt a flicker of hope ignite within his soul.
Yasmine took another step closer, her voice a whisper, but her words carried immeasurable strength. "Please. All I'm asking is, can we talk."
Gio gave up reluctantly. The gun was slick with sweat. Yasmine's hand, guided by an unseen force, reached for the gun, but her fingers grazed against Gio's hand instead. Their eyes met briefly, and for an instant, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable connection that passed between them. Yasmine's heart skipped a beat, and Gio felt a warmth spread through his veins. But just as quickly as the spark ignited, they withdrew their hands, a mix of surprise clouding their faces.
Yasmine looked down at the gun. A pang of terror knifed through her, as Yasmine's breath quickened, and she felt lightheaded and dizzy, as she held the weapon in her hand even tighter. Yasmine hated guns and always made King put his service weapon away when he got home. She placed the gun on a coffee table, near where they were standing. Yasmine stood motionless, watching him curiously. Was he truly going to take his life? Jasmine thought to herself.
Gio's face was stone-cold serious, as he walked past her and sat on a green chintz couch with red, white, and yellow flowers. Yasmine stood where he had left her, watching him in the distance, but went to the same couch and sat beside him.
Yasmine thought about it for a minute, then said, with certainty, "Mama Joyce, got you this couch?" Yasmine smiled, as she touched the fabric. She was trying to be friendly and make small talk.
Gio stared straight ahead without expression and said nothing as Yasmine continued talking.
She swallowed hard, as if to quell a gag, then glanced up at Gio. Yasmine wanted to ask for a drink, but judging by the state of the house, she knew there were no groceries, let alone any drinks.
"It's so surprising that you live in such a predominantly prosperous Black area. I always imagined that white families mostly lived in neighborhoods like this. It's like my perception has been turned upside down."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Gio looked bewildered and shook his head.
"It's not like that, and I'm just saying." Yasmine frowned, racking her brain. What she said was insensitive, and she knew it. She was quiet for a moment, before whispering, "I'm sorry, Gio."
As they sat in Gio's living room, the tension between them was palpable.
"Yasmine? What the fuck are you doing here?"
Yasmine flinched, bit her lip, and looked at Gio before speaking. "You were not answering my phone call."
"Why should I?" Gio said, roughly.
"Umm, I was worried about you."
"Lies, now get the fuck out of here?" Gio scoffed at the notion, that she was worried about him. If Yasmine was concerned, Gio thought, she would have let him in sooner, but now it was too late.
"Get out."
"Gio, please talk to me."
