Lost : Book 1 of Trilogy

23.

"I fuck with you heavy, Bey. Like... heavy, yo.
———
Y/n's POV
Mansion party
Houston, Texas
Saturday
___

I couldn't take her standing there with her arms crossed tryna act like she wasn't fazed, because she was.

I could see it in the way her jaw tightened, the way her shoulders stayed stiff like she was holding herself together by a thread. She wasn't fooling me. But honestly? She wasn't the only one fronting right now.

I ain't never think I'd be here—feeling like this, saying all this.

A nigga was so used to hitting, quitting, and moving on without a second thought. No attachments, no feelings, no waking up thinking about some trease like she got a permanent spot in my head.

But Beyoncé?

She different.

She had a nigga caught up on just a kiss.

But I ain't even realize how deep it really was until I saw her tonight, dancing on that
camel lookin' ass nigga like he could be touching on ha like that.

Like she was his.

My chest was even getting tight just thinking about it. Watching her move against him, smiling at him like he was funny. And then the way his hands slid around her waist, like he was claiming her?

And when he said 'my girl'...

Man, that shit had me feeling some type of way. I had to stop myself from decking that nigga in his shit.

I just wasn't that nigga to even be pressed over a girl, but with her—I couldn't shake it. I ain't want no other nigga touching her, making her laugh, making her smile like that. That shit was supposed to be me, and the fact that it wasn't?

It fucked me up more than I wanted to admit.

I tried to play it cool all night, but the second I saw her looking over at me, catching me with Latavia, I couldn't even focus on shorty no more. It was like everything around me faded, and all I could think about was how I was gon' pull Beyoncé aside and tell her what it really was.

And now that I had her here, standing right in front of me? My chest was tight, my head spinning, but I couldn't not do it now. I had to let ha ass know. Because as much as I tried to convince myself this shit wasn't that deep, I couldn't lie no more.

I ain't want Beyoncé with nobody else but me.
___

I watched as her eyes stayed locked in on mine as her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but decided against it.

"This ain't even me, ma." I admitted, shaking my head. "I don't do this shit. A nigga don't sit around tryna figure out why they can't stop thinkin' about somebody. That ain't my vibe. The second some shorty say they need space after a kiss? That's it. They dead to me by the next day."

I laughed a little, but it came out bitter and frustrated because I was mad at myself for being like this—for caring about her this much. "But you? You got me moving different. Got me feeling shit ion even know how to explain, bruh."

Her expression didn't change much, but I saw it. That little flicker in her eyes. Like she didn't wanna hear this, but she also didn't want me to stop.

"And I tried to let it go, yo." I continued, my hand rubbing the back of my neck as I looked away for a second. "A nigga tried to just...forget about it. About you. But I can't. You all up in my head, Bey. I can't even fucking focus because of you."