Page 12 of Blake University HBCU Chronicles: Nuri & Silas

T he Grand Horizon Ballroom didn’t just sparkle—it bled Black excellence.

Gold dripped from the chandeliers, velvet curtains kissed the walls, and the floor gleamed like a fresh check.

The room was filled with culture and class, tradition and everybody was turnt.

This was the Heritage Ball at Blake University—a celebration of legacy.

However, tonight, it had a twist. The Heritage Ball was the pinnacle event of the semester.

It was held in the historic Grand Horizon Ballroom just off Blake University’s east quad, the air lingered with elegance and culture.

The theme was Masquerade Royalty . That meant masks were mandatory, and not even anonymity could protect hearts from familiarity.

The student body showed out in true HBCU fashion. The ballroom was draped in black velvet and gold lace. Tables bore names like The Baldwin Table , The Tubman Circle , and The Chadwick Booth . Faculty and students alike were dressed in black-tie excellence, but with unapologetic flair.

Nuri moved through the crowd like poetry in motion.

Wrapped in a black dress that stopped mid-thigh and teased just enough thigh to spark curiosity.

Her mask was gold and black, fringed with rhinestones and delicate tassels that clung to her face like a crown meant to veil her identity.

However, it couldn’t dim her light. Her hair sat high in an elegant updo.

Her skin glowed beneath soft uplighting.

Her eyes were framed with kohl, and her lips were glossed like temptation.

Every piece of her was intentional. From the curve of her wrist to the sway of her hips.

She wasn’t trying to be noticed.

She simply couldn’t be ignored.

Bre walked beside her, both of them bathed in compliments and clicks of camera flashes.

The air was thick with pride and expensive scents, laughter, and old-school soul.

It was like stepping into a different time.

Donnell Jones played was going off, and H.E.R.

played next. Somewhere near the bar, the crowd broke into a line dance without needing a DJ to announce it.

Nuri smiled, but she was distracted. Her mind wasn’t fully there.

Not since she felt him. She hadn’t seen his face yet, but her instincts picked him up.

The power of his presence was embedded in her memory.

It was like blood rushing their under skin when her eyes scanned the crowd, and finally landed on him, it was confirmed.

He wore an all-black Tom Ford tuxedo, a black mask, and a fresh cut that aligned perfectly with his goatee.

Though his appearance was disguised, he was still fine as hell.

Despite all the masks that were worn, all the hundreds of students and administration that were present at the Heritage Ball…

Nothing could stop Silas’ eyes from locking with Nuri’s, no matter how hard she tried to fight their bond.

It was extreme, rare, and downright disrespectful.

The chemistry Silas and Nuri had didn’t give a damn about defense mechanisms, walls, and boundaries.

When their eyes met it was always checkmate.

Everyone danced, music played, glasses clinked; but none of it mattered. Despite what she felt, Nuri forced herself to glance away, pretending to laugh at something Bre said.

For two full hours, they played the game. He stood. She floated. He watched. She spun. They danced with the space between them, never touching, but never apart. Until she stepped away.

“Hey, I’m about to go to the ladies room. I’ll be right back,” Nuri discreetly whispered. Before disappearing down the side hallway where the restrooms were located.

“Okay. Do your thing,” Bre said, easing seamlessly back into conversation.

Bre was caught up in a convo near the Omega table.

Nuri needed a break.

A second to exhale.

So much was going through Nuri’s mind, and she wasn’t sure who could be trusted. Slipping past the velvet ropes, she walked toward the back hallway leading to the bathrooms.

She wasn’t gone long, but he noticed, and blindly followed his instincts.

Silas went to the bathroom, and fate had them exit their respective doors at the same time. The hallway was coincidentally empty. Nuri paused mid-step when she saw him.

He didn’t speak right away. Just looked at her with the kind of gaze that pressed against her soul.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said lowly.

Nuri blinked slowly as she inwardly debated her response. Her mask covered most of her face, but her lips parted just enough to let the words escape.

“Thank you,” she replied, then turned to go, but Silas reached out and caught her wrist gently.

“Wait,” he said, like a man who’d waited long enough.

Their eyes locked, again.

“Let me holla at chu later on when all this shit is over… Meet me at my house,” Silas told her.

He didn’t explain. Didn’t beg. Just reached into the inside pocket of his pocket and slid a silver and a gold key into her hand.

“Silver for the gate. Gold for the house,” he explained.

Then like smoke he was gone, back through the curtain, fading into the crowd.

Nuri stood there, her body still but her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She looked down at the keys in her palm.

Small things.

Heavy with meaning.

But, somewhere in the pit of her stomach, she knew she was going.

After the Heritage Ball, Nuri ignored what her mind was telling her to do, and obeyed her heart and instincts by accepting Silas' invite to his home.

She let herself in just as he had instructed, and was instantly met by the sound of Rick Ross' Diced Pineapples poured seductively through the house speakers, and a trail of candles that led up to Silas' bedroom.

Without a word, Nuri followed the trail up the stairs.

As she entered Silas' bedroom, she noticed the red rose petals that were spread across his bed.

However, what caught her attention was the dim lighting peeping through the cracked ensuite door.

The closer she got to the door, the faint sound of the shower became louder.

It was instant, as soon as she walked into the bathroom, their eyes locked.

Shit , Nuri thought, while licking her lips.

Silas nodded, inviting Nuri into the shower with him.

"You drive a hard bargain for a man who left me hangin'," Nuri said seriously, not knowing how to take Silas, but couldn't deny the magnetic pull leading her to the shower with him.

Silas didn't respond. Just waited for her to join him.

When Nuri removed her clothes and stepped into the shower, Silas gently grabbed her hand, closing the space between them.

The steam from the shower wrapped around their bodies like an invisible cloak, concealing them from the world and everything that came with it.

They were simply two souls who had found comfort, fire, and something dangerously close to love in each other.

Silas moved like a man on a mission—hands trailing up her hips with a possessiveness that spoke of missed time and sleepless nights.

“You know what fuck you be doin’ to me?” he asked, voice low and smoky, the bass of it vibrating against her bare skin. “I miss you,” he confessed.

Nuri tilted her head back, eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed against the sensitive spot on her neck then down to her pussy. “You’re the one who ended things with me,” she whispered, her words getting lost in the stream of water cascading over them. “I’m still pissed about that shit too.”

“You got every right to be,” Silas admitted, rising to his feet, pulling her closer until their hearts beat in sync. “But I’m here now. Ain’t going nowhere.”

He meant it and everything inside of Nuri wanted to believe him, but the weight of uncertainty still lingered.

She didn’t know how long this stolen world of theirs could exist before reality barged in and shattered everything.

Right now, with his hands worshipping her, and his lips speaking a language only her body could understand, she chose to live in the moment.

Time slowed as they moved together in the shower.

No rush.

No distractions.

Just two bodies rediscovering the rhythm they never lost. Before the water cooled, Silas turned it off, reached for a towel, wrapping Nuri in it like she was something precious.

She watched him grab a second towel for himself, wiping off without missing a beat.

His mask had been stripped away hours ago, and what stood before her wasn’t a fantasy.

It was an alpha man—flawed, layered, and smooth as fuck. And he wanted her.

Silas led her back to his bedroom, where the rose petals kissed the bed, and the music had shifted to Chris Brown’s No Interruptions. The lyrics wrapped around them as Silas sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Nuri between his legs.

“I did what I did to protect you,” he confessed. “Your father is a vicious muthafucka. That footage… all that shit ain’t no coincidence.”

Nuri’s brows furrowed. “Huh? Wait… what all do you know?” Nuri needed to know immediately.

“I know everything, baby. And I got my people on it. Just couldn’t have you caught up in the crossfire.”

“You should’ve told me. Why did you shut me out?” She quizzed, pain slipping through her tone.

Silas reached up, brushing his fingers against her cheek. “I had to figure this shit out, and I didn’t know how to at that moment. I’m used to being the one in control, but you… you got a nigga all twisted. I was still processing how to deal with what I feel for you.”