Black Panther Imagines {CLOSED}

Why Are You Crying? (2/2)

"Wh-"

T'Challa presses his index finger against my lips before I could say anything else.

"You ask too many questions." He states.

"I will handle your family and your husband and your boss. All I want you to worry about is taking a nice, long bath with Zantedeschia scent soap. And afterwards, you are going to wear any silk dress you wish to wear. I will ask a maid to lay out a variety of dresses for you to choose from. After that you should get some rest, I will wake you for royal dinner." He adds.

I stare up at him with wide eyes that are laced with confusion.

"You have one question, make it count."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask.

"Because you deserve to know what really marriage should feel like. You deserve to know what it's like for someone to care deeply for you.." He says.

Before I could say a word, he spins on his heel.

"Take your bath, Imani. And take your time, there's no one rushing you or forcing you to do anything." He say before closing the door.

I am alone, sitting on King T'Challa's bed, with his blessing to take a long bath and pick from a variety of expensive dresses.

What did I get myself into?

I walk into the bathroom and begin taking off my clothes. I stand with my bra and underwear on as I see the water rise high enough for me. Then I take off the remainder of my clothes before I sit in the bathtub.

A sigh of relief leaves me lips as I feel my body submerge under the water. I rest the back of my neck against the edge of the tub and immediately regretted it. Fortunately, there is a stack of freshly cleaned towels. I use a small one as a head rest and relaxed in the tub for a while.

**

Forty five minutes later, I finish up my bath and wrap a towel around my body. I dry my feet before I walk into T'Challas room. I inhale sharply when I was see dresses laid out on the bed and some still on the hangers.

"He was not kidding." I say to myself.

"I don't kid- well, not often anyway." I hear T'Challa say.

I yelp out and tightly grasp my towel.

"Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to check if you were okay." He apologizes.

"It's fine... you don't really need to do this, my Ki-"

He flashes me a look and I change my choice of words.

"Thank you, T'Challa." I say.

He smiles at me and give the maid a nod. She spins around and says:

"I am going to take off your towel and start fitting you for lingerie."

"Well I'll leave you guys to it. Remember to rest after you're fitted." He says as he walks towards the door.

"Wait, what? L-lingerie? I'm not- we're not gonna- T'Challa help me here." I say frantically.

"Have fun." He says before he closes the door.

I physically face palm and say:

"We are not going to have intercourse."

"Very well." She says.

She hands me a pair of black, silk bra and underwear. I drop my towel and slide them on my body. I start to feel subconscious when I feel her gaze on my bodily scars from Tintūk.

"I don't want to talk about it." I say.

She nods with understanding and gave me some dresses to try on.

**

After the maid got me fitted, she got me ready for the Royal dinner. She pulled my hair into a bun and covered my visible cuts with mocha powder.

The dinner itself was quite awkward. Queen Mother asked me many questions regarding to how T'Challa and I met and Nakia sent me glares across the room.

My words froze in my mouth and T'Challa took over. He told her the truth and the whole time I covered my face. He hand his hand on my thigh in a comforting manner. The warmth from his hand calmed my nerves slightly and I intertwined my hand with his.

The dinner was finally over and T'Challa and I retreat back to his room. I lay on his mattress with my arms tucks behind my head and wait until he gets out shower.

I hear the door open and he says:

"Well, it didn't go as bad as I thought it would."

"Yeah, but it didn't go great either. Why was Nakia looking at me like that?" I ask.

"Like what?"

"Like she hates me." I add as I sit up on my elbows.

My mouth nearly hangs open when I see his broad shoulders, well toned pecks and his six pack abs. Even enough you could see his muscular when wore regular t-shirts, I never would have expected him to look like that. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom in his tight, black boxers.

"She doesn't hate you. She was my ex, so when she hears that I am picking another woman as my Queen, she wasn't the happiest about it." He says.

I lean back onto the bed and close my eyes as I relive the images of T'Challa being shirtless. I feel the mattress sink a little and look over to see T'Challa in the same position I was.

"How did my mother take it when you told her?" I ask.

He sighs before he says:

"I'd rather not say."

"Oh crap." I say as I cover my face with my hands.

"Hey, everything is going to be fine, okay? Don't worry." He reassures.

I look at him and he cups the sides of my cheeks with his hands. He pulls my hair out of the bun and watches as it flows passed my shoulders. He touches my busted lip and presses a kiss on my bruised eye.

He slides me closer to his body and I rest my hands on his chest. I scan his face for a reaction before I snuggle my face into his neck. I fell asleep once he rubs circles on my back as I listen to his steady heartbeat.

"He's never going to lay a hand on you ever again. Not if I have anything to say about it." He states.