Brown Sugar

Chapter Twelve.

"It...it wasn't you." Justin hesitated.

"Well, what was it? Because I thought we had—" Beyoncé cut herself off, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of watching her become even more emotional.

"You thought we had what?" He asked quietly.

Beyoncé looked away. "I was wrong; just answer my question."

It was Justin's turn to look away, unprepared to answer that question.

She waited a few moments before laughing cynically. She shifted her purse strap further up her shoulder, preparing to leave. "I think it's been two minutes—" she huffed.

"Beyoncé," Justin said quietly, quickly grasping her forearm to keep her from leaving. She looked down at his large hand, which nearly wrapped around her arm, as she reluctantly turned to face him. Once he knew he had her undivided attention, he spoke again, never choosing words as carefully in his life. "I know I have much to learn. I treat people poorly, use and throw them away; you're right... I have trouble telling the woman that I care about how sorry I am for how badly I've treated her in these past weeks." Justin could hear Beyoncé's voice hitch on the back of her throat. It was clear that this second declaration of affection was no accident. He watched her gaze linger on his hand, which had slightly loosened its grip, and slowly draw back to meet his eyes.

Beyoncé faintly swallowed as she felt her mouth run dry in the moment's intensity. Suddenly, all the angry words she had prepared were lost. She remained silent, unsure if Justin had more to say. "Those are dangerous words." She cautioned quietly, all hostility having evaporated from her voice.

"But what if they're true?" He questioned.

"...Are they?" Beyoncé challenged.

"Yes," Justin stated confidently. His single-syllable confirmation made chills run up Beyoncé's spine, and her knees felt like Jell-O. This wasn't the way this entire conversation was supposed to work out. She was supposed to put him in his place and then leave him with his tail between his legs, never to talk to him again. Instead, here she was in some alleyway, as vulnerable as ever, receiving his second pronouncement of fondness... yet there was part of her that didn't want to give in and believe it so quickly. 

"How do I know that you're not just using me, and you do this routine with all your other girls?" Beyoncé didn't want to be treated the same.

"First off, I don't have any other girls. And with the ones in the past, I've never tried so hard to be with them. That's the God-honest truth." Justin assured her.

Beyoncé could only whisper her following words. "Justin, I want to believe you, and it scares me. Because...things like this aren't supposed to happen ...it's just not right. Yet I care for you too," she took a moment to swallow, "and I know it's irrational, just so irrational!"

Justin smiled widely, unable to help himself as he entwined his fingers with hers. "That's all that matters! We both want the same thing; what's stopping us!" He bit his lip.

"Justin, don't you see? It's not that simple! God knows I wish it were, but you and I can never have anything real." She spoke with sadness.

"I don't care that you're colored, Bey; it doesn't change a damn thing. And...we do have something real! Jeez, I mean, every time I look at you or feel your touch, even for the slightest second—every time I think of you! That's something real and something I don't want to lose." Justin made a conscious effort to slow his rapid speech. "I don't want to lose you because of some pig-headed people who have nothing to do with our lives."