Look, I know girls love Beyoncé.
Girls love to fuck with your conscience.
Girls hate when n*ggas go missing.
And shawty, you ain't no different.
Onika (G!P)
Completed.
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THIRD POINT OF VIEW
The sunlight stabbed through the window like it had a vendetta.
Beyoncé groaned, squinting against the sharp morning light slicing across her face. Her head was pounding—bad. Like, who-let-me-drink-that-much bad.
For a second, she didn't even know where she was.
The living room wasn't hers. The couch definitely wasn't hers. And the blanket draped over her like a warm cocoon smelled like cologne and outside.
She sat up slow, her body aching with the weight of last night, brain trying to fill in the gaps. All she could remember was stumbling out of that loud spot with Zahir, their laughter echoing in the hallway as they fumbled with keys, bumping into walls, kissing between giggles.
And now—
She glanced down.
Zahir was underneath her.
Literally.
One arm was tucked under her body, the other stretched behind his head, mouth slightly parted in sleep. His hoodie was halfway up, his chains tangled in the collar. His face?
Covered in her lip gloss.
Her jaw dropped, eyes going wide. Oh my God...
His cheeks, his jawline—even a smear across the tip of his nose. It looked like she painted him in kisses.
She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh that almost slipped out. This was insane. This was so not in the plan.
The TV lit the quiet room with a soft blue glow, and smack in the center of the screen: "Are you still watching?"
She blinked at it, then back at him.
Zahir stirred slightly, lips smacking before his eyes cracked open, still heavy with sleep.
"Damn... you look guilty," he rasped, voice deep and groggy.
"You... you got my whole lip gloss on your face," she muttered, still hovering above him.
He blinked, touched his cheek, then smirked. "Guess I got marked up."
"You look crazy."
"You kissed me crazy."
She smirked, biting her lip, then sat back slowly, rubbing her temples.
"What even happened after we got here?"
He stretched with a lazy grin. "You kept tryna take my hoodie. And I kept letting you."
She covered her face with both hands. "I'm never drinking again."
"That's what they all say."
"No I mean it. Any time I see a bottle I'm walking the other way." Zahir sat up slowly as well groaning as he rubbed his head.
