"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...
Bed Chem. Inspired by the Sabrina Carpenter song, "Bed Chem". 💋
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Beyoncé.
It's funny how a simple dinner can turn into something else entirely.
Here I am, sitting across from Onika, watching her talk about her latest art project. Her lips move animatedly as she describes its ins and outs, and I pretend like I'm actually following. I tried, but I'm not anymore, because somewhere between "mixed media" and "expression of deep longing"... she lost me, and I got distracted as well. I blame her lips, though, those enticing pink pairs of lips that do nothing but tease my own each time she moves them.
Either way, I'm lost.
I'm also in trouble.
Onika's eyes narrow suddenly, like she can tell I've been daydreaming about her, or that I've drifted off, either ways she knew. And she smirks, tilting her head. "You didn't hear a single word I said, didn't you?"
And... Busted.
I offer her my best innocent smile, as I popped my eyes wider, to complete the angelic look, hoping it'll get me out of this. "Of course, I did. You were talking... about... longing?"
She laughs, and it's this low, musical sound that sends jolts of electricity throughout my whole body, as I found myself smiling like a fool. Her laugh does that to me, even when I'm on the receiving end of her teasing.
"Sure, Beyoncé, cause that is exactly what I've been rambling about in a thirty-minute conversation. Longing." She rolls her eyes, reaching for her wine glass.
I shrug. "I got the just of it, at least."
She shakes her head, sipping her drink. "It's fine. You're lucky you're gorgeous, cause you look just like that when you're pretending to care."
"Who said I was pretending?"
Her eyes flicker toward me, and for a second, there's this spark between us. We've always had this chemistry. The kind that could light up a room or turn something as simple as dinner into a dangerous game. We've danced around it for months, always brushing too close but never stepping fully in.
But tonight feels different. Maybe it's the wine. Maybe it's the way she's looking at me, or maybe it's because my leg just accidentally brushed hers under the table, and neither of us moved away, or maybe... it's the way hers went up alongside mine.
I clear my throat, trying to regain some composure. "So, what you wanna do after dinner?"
She leans back in her chair, as she smirked at me. "You."
I felt my breath hitch in my throat at the boldness of her words. She was never the one to beat around the bush, yet her frankness never ceases to amaze me. One word, so simple, but combined with the look in her eyes... Nothing but a destructive temptation, waiting to be blown up at any given moment.
