the devil wears ivy park

the deal.

"are you sure?"

beyoncé remembers the whispered tone she spoke in, despite asking the question the honey blonde was the one with doubt in that moment.

her hands were fidgety, fighting to grip onto the waist that was practically begging to be touched—toyed with.  her forehead was collecting small droplets of sweat, purely out of the anxiety swirling in her stomach. her throat was slightly dry, she had to clear it to even ask the question.

the room smelled like lavender, it was her favorite scent. it always made beyoncés nose itch a little bit she dealt with it.

it was dim, the only lightning being a thick three wicked candle that made home on beyoncés desk.  while hazel eyes trailed up and down—adorning dark—lace covered skin.

"are you really asking me that?" she whispered, her voice invaded every nook and cranny of beyonces brain. the women licked her lips in anticipation as she leaned further and further into her office chair.

"I just—want to make sure is all." she clarified, her dress shirt sleeves were rolled up to her forearms, and a foreign hand reached to caress beyoncés mane. the blonde kept her eyes on her, as her nose twitched at the invading smell of lavender.

her fidgety hands found themselves on her hips. her waist was wide, beyoncé thought the lingere suited her perfectly. she kept her eyes on her own crafted design as her hand gently massaged her scalp.

"you know I don't like you touching my hair."

"you sure ms. Knowles?"

beyoncés hands tightened.

and suddenly that's all beyoncé would hear.

faint, confident but whiny—

ms. Knowles.

ms. Knowles..

ms. Knowles!

beyoncé gasped as she sat up in her bed, her heart was beating out of her chest—as if it was attempting to escape. her ears faintly taunted her with her last name as she attempted to gather her scrambled thoughts.

her hair was wild, her silk bonnet had slipped off with such a abrupt—erratic movement. she carefully glanced around and was met with her bedroom.

it was dark—to say the least.

the sun hadn't risen yet, but beyoncé had.

once she verified that she wasn't in her office about to commit adultery she let her head dropped into her hands and a groan of pure frustration leave her body.

"i haven't had that dream in ages..what the fuck Giselle?" she asked herself. she attempted to look down at her hands, but all she saw was pure darkness. she leaned over to her night sad and gently pulled down the pull-switch to add some dim brightness into her room.

she blinked a few times, somehow her eyes still straining even though she had just woke up. she glanced at her digital clock and read;

4:20 am

she frowned deeply, this was going to ruin her sleep schedule.

a stupid dream—a dream she wished never became reality.

she felt her stomach twist and turn at the memory. "fuck." she mumbled out, she should have never made that design. she hasn't made a new line of lingerie since.

with that thought she quickly stood up, placing her slippers on her feet and making her way down to the only room she spent more time in than her office. she ignored the chill that traveled through the large home as she turned corners and passed empty walls.