Marvel And Melanated Imagines (ongoing)

yibambe | t'challa

(a/n: still feels unreal. rip black panther ❤ this one is a little long)

There's no mistaking the fact that you love your man.

He's sweet and a gentleman. Steady in all his endeavors, unbelievably intelligent and graceful, yet at the same time, humble. But even with all those qualities, its not a lie to admit that he also got on your damn nerves with his obtuse and oblivious behavior to certain subjects or, more specifically, people.

"You know what, T'Challa, if you're not going to at least listen to me–" You began, voice already tired. Tired of repeating yourself and having this conversation one too many times.

Before you could finish your sentence fully, T'Challa cut you off. You side eyed him in disbelief, almost rearing back in offense by the out of character behavior.

"I am not saying I do not listen to or value your opinion, Y/N but my love, you are not listening to me, either. You're being unreasonable and jealous for imagined slights–"

Since he cut you off first, you felt like being petty right now. 

"It's not 'imagined'!" You retort sharply. "I don't like the two of you being alone in a room and I'm not there, especially since y'all were ex lovers. Can you not see why I would have a problem with that?"

T'Challa's brow furrowed and he was about to say something but you held a hand up in front of his face.

"Stop the car." You order, face forward, gaze resolute.

"Y/N..." T'Challa's voice became softer, pleading.

"T'Challa, stop the car. Stop this car right now or swear to God...!" Your voice rose several decibels towards the end of your sentence, you were almost shouting, practically.

Thankfully, T'Challa listened to you this time.

The car pulled to a slow stop at the curb of a sidewalk. There's a bus stop station right across the street. Without any hesitation, you unbuckle your seatbelt, hand on the door handle, about to get out.

T'Challa placed a hand on your wrist. "Y/N, please. At least let me drive you back home."

You pulled away without difficulty; T'Challa never held you hostage. Getting out of the car, you closed the door back quietly, instead of slamming it in frustration like you really wanted to. 

"Don't worry about me. I know how to take care of myself." You state simply. "And apologize to your family for me."

You let out a scoff-like laugh.

"Although I'm sure it'll be fine, you're good at coming up with excuses."

Then you walked away.

For a moment, you thought that T'Challa would get out the car and chase you down like some sort of romantic lead out a movie, but no. T'Challa wasn't that type of person. He respected boundaries and although he could be stubborn, he tried not to force his way into everything.

You were half way down the street before you dared to look back and when you saw that T'Challa was indeed driving off, leaving you behind, those tears that you'd so valiantly tried to hold back the entire argument finally, finally fell down your face and cheeks unchecked.

Today is your and T'Challa's nine month anniversary and he'd planned to introduce his family to you over dinner. Obviously, things had gone pear shaped. Thinking about it all again only made you more miserable, and the crying that you were doing made it pretty much impossible to see in front of you. Pausing, you sniffled piteously, reaching into your clutch and pulling out your cellphone, dialing your best friend's number.