Bodyguard (YN x Beyonce)

It felt good to be home. The house smelled like fresh linen and whatever candle Beyoncé had burning on the counter. Blue was back, which meant I'd been roped into game night, cartoon marathons, and getting my nails painted every color possible. I didn't mind. Her smile was contagious, and seeing the way Beyoncé looked at her like she hung the moon just made me love them both more.

When Jay dropped Blue home, he didn't bring her to the door like he usually would. That said a lot without saying anything.

The past few weeks had been easy in a way I didn't think we were ever going to get back to. Beyoncé was... different. Not in a bad way. Softer. Warmer. She touched me more... small, gentle things like reaching for my hand while we watched TV, brushing hair off my face when I wasn't paying attention, laying on me just to be near me.

It was like she wanted to make sure I never questioned how she felt again.

I wasn't used to it. But I wasn't complaining.

I'd wake up and her leg would be tangled in mine, her fingers tracing slow circles on my side. She kissed my cheek in passing. She danced with me in the kitchen when Blue wasn't home. We talked more. Laughed harder. Ate slower. Like we knew time was something we couldn't get back, so we didn't want to waste any of it being in our heads.

But we hadn't told anybody about us yet.

Not officially.

Solange was probably the only one who knew besides Jay.

It wasn't a secret, but it wasn't a headline either. It was just ours for now... quiet, tender, protected.

"Do you ever think about how we got here?" I asked her one night, the two of us curled up on the couch under the softest blanket in the house. Blue had fallen asleep hours ago. The TV was on, but we weren't watching.

"All the time," she whispered. "And I'm grateful for every moment. Even the messy ones."

I leaned my head on her shoulder, my fingers resting on her thigh. "You've been really... affectionate lately."

She smiled. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not..."

She looked at me, eyes full of something warm. "I think almost losing you really showed me just how much I love you. It scared me honestly."

"You could never lose me." I said quickly. "Trust that I love you just as much."

She turned to me fully then, legs curled beneath her, hand cradling my face.

"Still..." she said. "I want to show you. Every day."

And she had been. Quietly. Constantly.

No grand gestures. Just little things. The way she held my hand in public even if nobody noticed. The way she told me to text when I left the house. The way she ran her hands through my hair when she knew I couldn't sleep. That was love. Our kind of love.

And for the first time in a long time... I felt secure in it.

I didn't need the world to know yet.

I just needed her.

Another week later

The house was quiet.

Blue was upstairs and Beyoncé was flipping through her mother's book like she wasn't Beyoncé, and I was just admiring the view. She had glasses that were low on her nose, her hair was tied up in a loose bun, and she had that lip-biting concentration that made it impossible for me to focus on anything else.