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Chapter 9 - Chapter Nine: Lyrics and Lavender

> Love doesn't always arrive with a kiss.

Sometimes it walks in wearing box braids and sketchbooks.

This was CJ's softest war—

and his favorite.

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Late Afternoon – Shantel's Balcony

For once, Eastpoint wasn't buzzing. No sirens. No beef. Just the warm, honey-colored hush of a weekend evening.

CJ sat on Shantel's small balcony, knees pulled up, notebook resting on his thigh. Below, the street kids played soccer with a flat ball, their laughter rising like music.

Inside, Shantel hummed as she brewed ginger tea. He'd never told her, but that hum?

It hit harder than any beat he'd written.

She stepped out with two mugs and sat beside him, shoulder brushing his.

"So…" she said, sipping. "Do I get to hear the real love song you've been hiding?"

CJ raised an eyebrow. "You mean the one that makes my crew gag when I rehearse it?"

"Yes," she giggled. "That one."

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The Verse That Wasn't for a Crowd

CJ opened the notebook to a clean page—a page he saved just for her.

He took a breath, didn't look at her, just read:

> "You're the verse I didn't know how to write,

The sketch I couldn't color until I met your light.

In a world full of noise, you're the beat I chase—

A calm in my chaos, a soft safe place."

"Not a rhyme I spit to win the crowd,

But a melody that whispers proud.

If this city forgets my name in the end—

I'll still remember you as my beginning."

The balcony went quiet—just the clink of a mug against his notebook, and the sudden tightness in his chest when she didn't say anything.

Then, Shantel gently closed his notebook.

And kissed him.

Not flashy.

Not rushed.

Just… real.

When they pulled apart, her hand lingered on his jaw. "CJ… that's the most beautiful thing anyone's ever written for me."

CJ's voice cracked slightly. "It's not finished."

"Good," she whispered. "Then I'll stay around for the rest."

---

Nightfall – Lavender & Promises

Later, they lay side by side on a blanket on the roof, watching stars blink through Nairobi haze.

"Can I tell you something weird?" she asked.

"Always."

"I used to draw my future when I was younger. Faces I hadn't met yet. One of them… he looked a lot like you. Same serious eyes. Same kind smile."

CJ turned to her. "And what did you call him?"

Shantel smiled.

"Home."

He reached for her hand, their fingers laced. "Then I'll keep building it—for both of us."

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