Bodyguard (YN x Beyonce)

Part Twenty

A/N: so if you don't like gp just ignore the last part of this. I'm not good with sex scenes lol but I tried cause y'all wanted it.

She didn't say a word.

Just sat there, legs crossed at the ankle, hands folded in her lap like a queen in waiting. Not the type to yell. Not the type to beg. Just... still. Silent. Deadly.

And that silence? It cut deeper than any argument ever could.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

"You didn't answer my calls," she said finally. Her voice was low, calm, but I could feel the heat behind it. "Or my texts. Or anything."

I swallowed hard. "I know."

"I was worried."

I didn't answer.

"I came here because I love you," she said, her voice breaking just slightly. "Because I couldn't take one more night wondering if I'd lost you over some paparazzi angle and a man I haven't loved in a long, long time."

I froze, her words echoing in my chest. I love you. I hadn't even realized how badly I needed to hear it until it came out of her mouth, until it wrapped around me like a blanket on the coldest part of me. I tried to keep my face neutral, to act like I was cool, but inside?

I was lit up.

"I'm sorry," I said finally, stepping closer. "I let my fear get the best of me. I didn't mean to shut you out like that. I didn't know what to believe."

"You were supposed to believe me," she whispered.

My heart cracked open.

"I flew four hours on a private jet" she repeated, quieter this time, "because I was scared that I lost you... All that time I was just trying to understand why someone I love this deeply doesn't trust me."

"I'm sorry," I said finally, stepping closer. "I let my fear get the best of me. I didn't mean to shut you out like that. I just needed space to think clearly."

"You needed to run," she shot back, folding her arms. "You saw a photo—a photo—and instead of talking to me like an adult, you spiraled."

"It wasn't just a photo," I snapped, stepping toward her now. "It was him. All over you. In your face like he still had a shot."

"And I told you it was nothing!"

"Well, it looked like something to me." I said, louder than I meant to.

"Because the internet doesn't give a damn about context!" she shouted back, her voice cracking. "You were supposed to take my word for it and just trust me. You just couldn't do that."

I flinched. The air between us was thick. My chest was tight.

"I'm not mad that you were upset," she said, softer now. "I'm mad that you didn't trust me enough to believe me."

I let out a shaky breath and dropped my head for a second before looking back at her. "I do trust you. I swear I do. I was just being... stupid and dramatic. I let my emotions get ahead of me."

Beyoncé narrowed her eyes at me, but the fire behind them had softened, replaced by something tender. "You can be emotional, YN. You can be mad. But don't ever shut me out again. Don't ignore me, don't hang up on me, don't leave me wondering what the hell you're thinking."

I nodded, instantly ashamed. "You're right. That was messed up. I was hurt and let my pride talk for me instead of just talking to you."

She stepped in closer, cupping the side of my face. "We can't do that to each other. If we're gonna make this work, we gotta talk. Even when it's ugly."