But those who are considered worthy of taking part in the age to come and in the resurrection from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage, and they can no longer die; for they are like the angels. They are God's children, since they are children of the resurrection.
~Luke 20:35-36~
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My stomach twisted in knots as her sweaty palm rested against mine. The cold wind against my skin was a relief as we barreled through the back door of the club. Darkness surrounded us, all exceptt for the small light post at the end of the alleyway which did nothing but cast a small shadow around us. I knew coming here was a mistake, I never stepped outside my comfort zone. It could lead to being caught, and I promised myself that would never happen. I wouldn't become a victim again.
My chest heaved, but I still felt as if I couldn't breathe. I wasn't living, just working and coming home. I was playing it safe. I was a suffocating mess at the end of every single day.
"There's no turning back, Onika. No saying no..."
I shook my head, trying to figure out if this was a dream or not. Had I actually gotten myself into this mess? Had I attempted to be strong and courageous for the first time in my life, even more so to a woman that I didn't even know the name of.
"What did you say your name was again?" I tried to sound nonchalant about it, but I couldn't hide the tone in my voice. She stopped mid-step, her heels crunching against the rocks beneath her feet. She swiveled around, forcing our bodies to clash against one another. Every single place she skin touched mine, fire sparked. It was as if she was gasoline, and I was the match needed to start the fire.
"I didn't... but it's Beyoncé." The way her name slid off her tongue caused my head to spin, every word that fell from her lips was thick and heavy with lust as she stared into my eyes. She was so much more up close than I had expected. Tall, blonde, and dangerous in the best way. Her hazel eyes bled into my soul, reading my every thought.
Knowing that these thoughts would get me nowhere, I shook my head. As much as I felt a pull towards her, I could see warning signs all around her cautioning me away. Why? I didn't know, especially now when she seemed calm, cool, and collective. As if telling me she was one of New York's most dangerous women was nothing but a reason to try and push me away.
"Bey..." Her name wasn't even spoken from my lips fully, and I was being picked up and slammed against the brick wall behind me. The harshness of the bricks against my skin as my shirt rode up, the slight pain that radiated through my head from the impact made me question my decision to talk to this woman. Yet, I was unable to focus on anything but her the second her firm lips came down upon my own.
A breath heaved in my chest, stilling everything around me for one moment. Beyoncé kissed me like she was on a mission, like a woman starved of love and affection her entire life. My hands instinctively fell to her shoulders, my nails digging into the leather of her jacket. Her smell fell over me, consuming me. It was one of darkness and rain. As if she was a thunderstorm barreling down the Nebraska grasslands.
