Bodyguard (YN x Beyonce)

Part Twenty-Three

I woke up to the quiet weight of Bey's arm around my waist and her breath steady on the back of my neck. For a second, I didn't move. Just laid there soaking it in. The warmth of her skin. The way her fingers were tangled in the hem of my shirt. The silence that only felt this peaceful when she was beside me.

She stirred a little behind me, pressing her face into my shoulder.

"I want some waffles." she mumbled, her voice still husky from sleep.

I smiled before I even opened my eyes. "Waffles?"

"Mmhmm. Waffles." she repeated like it was the most serious thing in the world.

I turned to face her. Her eyes barely open, but she was beautiful in that effortless way she always was. "You really craving waffles right now?"

"Yesss..." She looked up at me with the most innocent expression.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Alright then. Waffles it is."

I stepped into the bathroom and flipped on the light.

That's when I saw it.

My reflection stared back at me... bare skin and a galaxy of hickeys and bite marks scattered across my neck, shoulder, chest. I tilted my head to the side, fingers gently grazing over one of the deeper marks near my collarbone.

Damn, Bey.

My body looked like love.

I bit my lip, not even trying to fight the smile creeping across my face. The marks didn't bother me. If anything, they made me feel... claimed. Wanted. Loved.

The past few weeks had been nothing short of intense. We'd always had passion, even when we were arguing. But lately? It was like we couldn't get enough of each other. Something had shifted after that fight, after that raw honesty. We'd broken down some wall between us, and now we were on the other side of it... completely exposed, completely in.

We'd been doing it everywhere. Kitchen. Studio. Pool. Shower.
Anytime the world gave us a moment of quiet—we filled it with hands, mouths, moans. Whispers of "I missed you" and "don't stop" echoing between kisses.

But it wasn't just about the sex.
It was the way she held me after.
The way she'd look at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention.
The way she'd reach for my hand when we were out, or sleep with her head on my chest like she couldn't rest unless she was touching me.

I leaned in closer to the mirror, touching another faint bite near my ribs and laughed quietly.

We were both deep in.

The waffle iron hissed as I poured in the batter, filling the kitchen with that warm, buttery scent that always reminded me of home or whatever version of home I was building with Beyoncé.

I wiped my hands on a towel, grabbed my phone off the counter, and tapped into Apple Music radio. SZA's "Nobody Gets Me" was finishing up, her voice raw and floating through the speakers.

But then... the next song started.

Then her voice.
Gabby.

Damage

I froze with the spatula still in my hand.

I hadn't heard that song in forever.

The lyrics hit instantly. Too specific. Too damn familiar.

"Careful what you take for granted, yeah..."

I froze.

"Cause with me, know you could do damage..."