"I know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me."
BEYNIKA ONESHOTS: chapters, scenarios, scenes, and an imagination running wild.
⚠️ DISCLAIMER:
Those were mine to write, yours to read and share.
Some might turn into future books. If you'd...
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"I'm sorry."
Beyoncé stared numbly at the two worded letter she once had found out on that wooden table, that cursed wooden table they once had built together. She remembers that day as if it was yesterday, a distant memory that she had to deliberately push in the back burner of her mind if she wanted to continue living, she had to.
It was a Friday. The dawn crept in softly, the pale light filtering through the curtains, casting a faint, warm glow over the room. It was the kind of morning that should have brought a comforting peace, alongside the promise of a new day. But for Beyoncé, peace was nothing but a foreign affair that left a bitter aftertaste in her heart. The air felt heavy with an inexplicable dread as she stirred, her hand instinctively reaching for the warm cuddly body she expected to find beside her.
Her dainty fingers met only cold sheets; ones as cold as the feelings washing over her.
She blinked, disoriented, her heart lurching in her chest as she slowly sat up, turning over in the process as she expected to see Onika buzzing wordlessly in their bathroom. But the space beside her was empty, unnervingly untouched, as if no one had slept there at all. Her mind started scrambling for any other reasonable explanation rather than the obvious one. Maybe she had gotten up early, maybe an emergency case popped up, maybe she was strolling through their garden. But something about the silence felt different today—an unsettling quiet that made her chest tighten; it was deafening.
She unconsciously rubbed at her chest, subtly trying to calm her pounding heart as she strained her ears for any possible noise around her. But... The house was still, eerily so, with no sound of life around it except for her own irregular breathing. "Baby?" She tried calling out to her in a shaky tone, softly at first, hoping she was somewhere nearby and would bounce off of any corner of the house, laughing at how pale Beyoncé was looking as of now due to the prank she was pulling, to no avail.
The house was eerily still, with no sounds of morning routine, no clatter of dishes, no rap songs blasting through the pink Beats. Just silence. Beyoncé threw off the covers and padded through the house's long corridors, calling her name over and over, with nothing but emptiness echoed back at her.
A slim gleam of light glared back at her through the slightly ajar front door, mocking her for not noticing it sooner. Her feet stayed rooted in their place, as the cold realizations of what was happening started hitting her. Heart pounding, she finally managed to move her shaky legs towards the door that was unlocked, showcasing the haste Onika must've been in to get away from her, she thought.
A shiver ran down her spine, a cold, sinking feeling taking root in the pit of her stomach. On the small wooden table by the door, where they would sometimes push one another against as they tasted each other's lips, sat Onika's diamond ring in the wooden box she handmade for her, under it was a crumpled piece of paper, that looked like she even hesitated to leave her with. Her name was scrawled across the front in Onika's handwriting―familiar, yet suddenly foreign, as if the person who had written it was a stranger, one whose love had stripped her bare.
