𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔬𝔫𝔶𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫

♛

She sat at the edge of the large bed, feet barely planted on the floor. It was her first time in this room. She was dragged here against her will. Bathed and dressed in nothing but a silk robe. It was the night. The night that had everyone waiting and pacing.

Her skin crawled with the thought. She tried to make it seem as though she didn't care, but she did. Onika was terrified. Having had already been violated by women she is supposed to trust, strapped down like an animal set to be experimented on, is it such a bad thing to say that she's scared?

She shouldn't be, at least that's what her mother always let her know. If it ever came down to her having to marry, the night of the wedding shouldn't cause her any stress.

Let your spouse lead. She'd heard it many times.

A breath escapes her parted lips. The thought lingered. Let her lead.

Footsteps could be heard, pacing down the hall. Onika's eyes lock with the floor. Once a pair of black heels stopped in front of her, she gazed up at the awaiting blonde. With a quickness, she turned her head and closed her eyes.

Beyoncé stood there with a soft smile. Reaching for the princess's face and brushing her fingers along her burning cheek. "You're beautiful, Onika. You have no idea how much I admire you." She cupped the young woman's face hovering closely, their breathing in sync. Onika struggles to keep her eyes open because no matter how desperate she was to ignore this burdening attraction, she couldn't stop herself from melting into a puddle of nothingness when the blonde touched her.

And tonight was the night they are meant to consummate their marriage. Their final unification.

So she waited. Onika was patiently awaiting the kiss, the touch, everything that came with this moment. She wanted to know if Beyoncé would be gentle. If her touch would equate to her soft lips.

She most of all wanted to know if Beyoncé would really make the first move, but to her dismay the queen pulled away. "You aren't ready."

"What?" Her voice is small and weak, but the tone speaks for itself.

Beyoncé watched Onika for another small moment, nodding to herself. "You aren't ready. You still hate me, no?"

Onika's eyes widened slightly as she sat up and took a breath. "I– y-yes... I hate you. But we–"

"Then it is decided, is it not? We won't consummate our marriage until you do not hate me, sweetheart." The blonde nodded in approval, her arms now folded across her chest. "I'm sure you're not as annoyed by me now, if it were true you'd be denying your readiness for sex. But I'd rather have you when we are both content with our situation."

Onika's jaw flexed.

"I am not your fucking sweetheart," she says through clenched teeth. "And for the record, everything about you annoys me. The way you walk. The way you constantly speak to me like I am a child. The way you ask question after question yet never seem to have a single answer."