time alone

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-☆°☆_-_-_-_--_-_-_-_-_--_-_-_-

January-March 1992

When Korina Heavens married Eazy-E, it wasn't some flashy magazine spread. It was quiet, private. No diamonds the size of fists or a televised proposal.

Just love. Raw, real, imperfect-but honest. They married in a small garden behind an old church in South Central. Two chairs, one preacher, no media. Just a slow R&B track playing off someone's boombox and a vow that wasn't written for headlines.

The morning after, sunlight poured through the blinds like a soft whisper. Eazy stirred first, blinking up at the ceiling, arm still wrapped around Korina like a promise.

"You know what this means now, right?" he mumbled.

Korina, barely awake, responded with a sleepy smile, "That I gotta start answering the phone like, 'Mrs. Eric Wright, how may I help you?'"

He grinned, tugging her closer until she was practically on top of him.

"Nah. Means you stuck with me. Forever. No running."

"Ain't never ran from nothin' but my mama's chancleta," she teased.

They laughed. And for that moment, the world outside didn't exist. No music industry, no label stress, no haters. Just them. Breath for breath, heartbeat to heartbeat.

In the following weeks, they started stepping out more. Not overly flashy, but folks noticed.

Hip-hop's "villain" and the industry's upcoming R&B princess were starting to look like a dynasty. Eazy wore his usual uniform-dark shades, flannel open over a white tee, but his posture changed.

There was a new type of pride when he had her on his arm. Korina, in her bamboo earrings and suede trench coat, exuded a soft kind of power.

She was rising fast. The radio was starting to spin her single like clockwork. Her voice-a husky, soulful echo that wrapped around your ribs-was too good to ignore. Labels sniffed around, but she stuck with Ruthless for now.

That morning, Korina came in from her jog, cheeks flushed, curls wild, and found a cream envelope on the counter with only her name written in flowing script.

Eazy walked into the kitchen rubbing sleep out of his eyes, boxers low on his hips.

"You good?"

"Devante Swing sent me a letter."

"From Jodeci?"

"Yeah. He wants to do a session. Produce a track."

Eazy leaned against the fridge, face unreadable.

"You tryna work with him?"

"I'm tryna work with anybody who respects my sound. This ain't about him. It's business."

"That man don't do business without flirtin' first. You seen how he be lookin' in those videos. Tongue out, shirt open, whisperin' 'come and talk to me' like he got a throat infection."

Korina snorted.

"You jealous?"

"I'm cautious."

She walked over and slid her arms around his waist.

"You married me. I'm yours. That don't change in a studio."

Eazy kissed her slowly, but there was still a flicker of worry in his eyes.

"Then I'm comin'. Just to supervise."

The SessionThe studio in North Hollywood was lit with neon blue lights, and the hallway reeked of vanilla incense and weed smoke. Korina walked in first-high ponytail, denim jacket, confidence in every step. Eazy followed, jaw tight, black beanie pulled low, and that "don't try me" energy clinging to him like cologne.

Devante rolled in twenty minutes late, fresh off a video shoot, smelling like Creed and ego.

"Yo, Korina. You even finer than I imagined. Whew."

Korina gave him a polite smile.

"Appreciate it. Let's get to work."

Devante turned and nodded at Eazy.

"And you must be the husband."

"You must be the fool if you think this session gon' be about anything but music," Eazy said with no smile.

Devante raised his eyebrows, hands up.

"Hey, I respect you. I respect both of y'all. Strictly creativity tonight."

But there was a glint in his eye. The kind of glint men have when they think they can out-charm the ring on your finger.

Inside, the beat thumped low and slow. Devante's production was smooth, late-night-in-the-city type vibe. Korina warmed up her vocals while Eazy sat in the back, arms crossed, watching everything. Not blinking.

Halfway through the session, Devante slid behind her at the mic, getting close-too close.

"Lemme adjust that mic for you, baby."

His hand brushed her shoulder. Too familiar.

Eazy stood.

Not walked.

Stood.

The room shifted.

"Yo," Eazy said calmly. "She don't need you touchin' her mic, dog."

Devante turned slow.

"I'm just helpin' her sound better."

"You wanna help? Back the fuck up."

"Man, you actin' like I kissed her or somethin'-"

Eazy moved across the room in a flash, right up in Devante's face. Eye to eye. Korina didn't even get a chance to breathe before it escalated.

"Say one more slick thing," Eazy said, voice low, like a growl from the bottom of a cage. "You think 'cause you sing love songs, I won't snap your jaw in two?"

"Yo, relax-relax. Damn." Devante laughed nervously, eyes darting toward the door. "I was playin', aight?"

Eazy didn't budge. His stare alone was violence.

Korina finally stepped in between them.

"Both of y'all, chill. This is my session. Not your dick-swingin' contest."

Devante backed off, brushing imaginary lint off his leather jacket.

"No disrespect. Just got caught up in the vibe."

Eazy didn't answer. Just went back to his seat, eyes never leaving Devante again.

The rest of the session was cold, quiet, and straight to the point.

Later That NightBack home, Korina was pacing. Eazy sat on the couch, looking at his phone like he didn't want to be the first one to speak.

"You embarrassed me."

"He disrespected you."

"I had it handled."

"No, you would've handled it. But I'm your husband. I'm gon' move when I see someone crossin' the line."

She stopped, arms crossed.

"I need to be able to exist in this industry without you threatening every man who talks to me."

"And I need to know that they know you not available."

They stared at each other for a moment. Tension simmering. But under all of it-love. Thick, frustrating, maddening love.

Korina exhaled.

"I married you because I trust you. But you gotta trust me, too. I'm not some girl caught in your orbit. I'm me."

He got up and walked over, placing a hand gently on her neck.

"And I'll try. I swear. I just ain't never had somethin' this real before. I'm scared to lose it."

She pulled him into a hug. He held her tighter than usual.

"You won't lose me, Eric."

"Then let me grow into the man you deserve. Just... don't leave before I get there."

.

She was humming something soft, distracted, but his eyes were locked on her like she was the only thing that existed.

"You gon' keep lookin' at me like that, or say somethin'?" she teased, walking over and crawling on top of him, straddling his hips slowly.

He exhaled, letting his hands rest on her thighs. His voice came low, rough.

"I was thinkin'... 'bout earlier. At the studio."

"With Devante?" she asked, cocking her head, playful.

"Yeah. That n**a was too comfortable. I ain't like that sht."

Korina raised a brow, leaned down so her face was close to his.

"You jealous, Mr. Wright?"

"Hell yeah, I was," he admitted without flinching. "I hated it. The way he looked at you. Like he had a chance. Like I wouldn't murk a n***a behind you."

She blinked, surprised at how honest he was being. Then smiled slow, lips brushing his jaw as she kissed up his neck, lingering.

"You don't gotta trip over no Devante," she whispered against his skin. "Ain't no one makin' me feel the way you do."

Her hips pressed against his, slow at first, barely any friction-just the idea of it. Eazy gripped her waist, feeling that familiar heat rush through him.

"Sh*t... Kori."

She started grinding against him through the layers of clothes, teasing and slow. Not full-on-just soft rolls of her hips, enough to make him tense and groan low. The heat of her body on top of his was maddening, and her breath against his neck didn't help either.

"You mad at me?" she asked sweetly, kissing the shell of his ear.

"I was... I was just in my feelings, that's all. Felt like I ain't enough sometimes," he muttered, almost too low.

That made her stop.

She pulled back to look at him-really look at him.

"Eric... you more than enough. You think I'm out here lookin' for another you? Like there's another you out here?"

"You don't get it," he said, his voice cracking a little. "You bad as hell, Kori. You glow. N****s see that. I see 'em lookin'. Even if I try to play it cool... it f**ks wit' me."

She leaned down again, cupped his face gently, her fingers tracing his cheekbone.

"Ain't nobody takin' me away from you. But I gotta be me, and I need you strong enough to stand beside that, not shrink under it."

He nodded, hands finding her hips again, guiding her as she rocked against him again-this time with more pressure. His breath hitched.

"F**k... girl, you tryna kill me..."

"Nope," she whispered, kissing his lips gently. "I'm tryna remind you."

Their clothes stayed on, but nothing about it was innocent. Her soft moans in his ear, his grip tightening with every slow grind-they were caught in that hot in-between. Not going all the way, but losing themselves in the closeness, the friction, the heat. Every kiss, every slow roll of her hips felt like a promise sealed in sweat and breath.

He groaned again, letting his head fall back.

"You win," he muttered.

"I always do," she smirked, then kissed his neck harder, letting her teeth scrape his skin just enough.

Their breaths synced. Sweat started to pearl on his forehead. He was seconds from flipping her under him, but she stayed in control, dragging it out, loving the way he squirmed under her touch.

Then, as the rain got heavier outside, Korina rested her forehead against his and whispered:

"Now you believe me?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "But you gon' have to remind me again. Later."

They both laughed softly, their bodies still tangled, their hearts finally beating in rhythm.

And in that moment, even with jealousy, past hurt, and public eyes waiting outside their door-they were okay. At least for now.