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@bengrayson-blog
Anyone else have a special hatred for teachers who schedule finals at 8PM?
Luckily, us culinary majors are never made to cook at that hour. I imagine it to be very unpleasant for your little academic brain, ofcourse. -smiles, teasing- It’s been a while..
Awhile indeed, Miss Wiggin. Either you've been hiding out from me or you've forgotten about me. I can't decide which I'd rather it be. How've you been?
Anyone else have a special hatred for teachers who schedule finals at 8PM?
I think… Pretty good. You?
Good to hear. You headed home this holiday?
Anyone else have a special hatred for teachers who schedule finals at 8PM?
I think just about everybody does.
Hey, Brynnie. It's been awhile, how you holding up during the end of this hellish semester?
Anyone else have a special hatred for teachers who schedule finals at 8PM?
Was I exiled?
Nope, sorry, can’t talk to you. You were exiled to Siberia last week.
Sounds about right, haha, cold as hell with no one to talk to.
How you been?
Was I exiled?
I feel like I've been cut off from all of you guys, haha. What's going on?
Ofcourse. I’ll make sure to drop by your class mid-lecture and sing a song, shall I?
You know, I'd like nothing more. And maybe I'll have a surprise for you, too.
Oh, c’mon. It could be worse, at least I’m not dressed in the Snow White attire.
Not yet, anyways. Is that what you'll be wearing to class tomorrow, then? I'll keep an eye out for you.
Candy Apples! Who wants one?
I promise they’re not poisonous.
Looks like someone's getting into the Halloween spirit.
Charles Demuth, Welcome to Our City, 1921
Before The Clock Strikes Twelve || Ben & Sarah.
There was something about the way he looked at her, something that Sarah was unable to define. His eyes captured her every move, from the way she delicately removed her hair from her shoulder to the way she gently caressed his fingers. He was undoubtedly enchanting, a quality that she knew was rare to come across. Sarah tried to hide her smile, when he leaned in closer towards her. Inch by inch closing the gap between them. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, listening to the soft sounding syllables and ever delicious voice that rose from his lips. Unconsciously she let her free hand rest on his thigh, lowering her head while he confessed little details of himself to her. That fact alone was something that made him stand out to her. His appreciation of simplicity in its finest form was a quality Sarah greatly admired. Usually, men liked to skip the talking, skip the details. But with Ben, that what we he so badly desired. Not her body or whether or not she would be going home with him, but Sarah herself. “Who are you?” She grinned, looking up to meet with his twinkling blue eyes. Ofcourse, she didn’t expect him to answer. He didn’t need to answer, because the fact was, she already knew. Her fingers released their grip around his and she brought them up to his cheek, gently running the back of her hand along his jaw.
The space between them was electric, cultivating a bond that Sarah didn’t want to break. The slightest of movements caused her heart to beat at an alarming rate. She felt naked and vulnerable, yet completely confident all at the same time. He was like a breath of fresh air, filling her with a wholeness she had never known. The fact that he was capable of doing so, having only known him barely a day, terrified her in the best way possible. “I have a love, hate relationship with coffee.” Sarah grinned, taking in everything else he had to say. The way he spoke, reminded her of a poet. However, he already knew this. He rhymed words off like verses, transforming his sentences into glorious stanzas. This endlessly fascinated her. Her breath was scarce, on hearing his last confession. She swallowed a large, non-existant lump that had formed in her throat since interacting with him and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. “Are you feeling alright?” Sarah soon asked, regaining composure, while looking him squarely in the eye. On the inside, she was swooning. Falling recklessly into her own subconscious, wondering where he had been all her life. Fighting the urge to kiss his perfect poetic lips then and there. When he quoted Shakespeare, Sarah almost fell back in her chair. Not literally, ofcourse. But she felt like it. Rendered speechless, all she could do was laugh. A warm, low chuckle mustered from her mouth. He was charming, over and over again. Prince Charming. He was her fairytale. And he was real. That was the part Sarah found most hard to believe. “Oh God.” She whispered, as he took her hand in his own and thanked her for joining him. “May I?” The red head then spoke up, replacing her hand around his neck, pressing her lips against his. Finally. She didn’t wait for an answer, instead, acting on instinct. She felt fire erupt inside her, but pulled away before it got too hot. “You’re welcome, Ben.” She breathed, setting herself back down upon her seat.
As her scarlet lips graced his, it was all Ben could do not to seize her in his arms and make the embrace between the two of them last longer than a moment. His eyes fell closed and his lips moved in perfect harmony with hers for a beautiful moment, causing his lungs to drain of the oxygen inside them. Finally, as she pulled away and his eyes met hers again, Ben knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that she was a lot more than he reckoned for. The sparks that flew from their initial conversation had turned into lightning bolts by now, ones with the potential to light up even the darkest of night skies. Inhaling slowly, all words seemed lost to him. Everything he could think to say wouldn't do her ears justice. Finally, as the world seemed to slowly fade back into relevancy, he inched back slowly, his hand still holding the side of her face and let the corners of his mouth rise into a smile. His thumb caressed her cheek delicately as he still planned his next words carefully. "Do I look any different?" he whispered softly, words only meant for her ears. He smiled as her face turned into a puzzled expression. "Isn't Beast supposed to turn into some handsome prince after something like that?" he said a bit louder, his lips parting for a wide smile.
Further disrupting the moment even further, Ben was forced to pull away to his side of the table as their meals were brought out to them. As soon as the wine was poured and their waitress stepped away from the table, he picked up his glass and raised it slightly, his lips still curled up into a smile. "To you," he said, his eyes locked in place on hers as they had been for their entire evening. "Because that undefined quality you have deserves a little fine wine and a lot more recognition that it's been given." He raised his glass just a few inches more before bring it to his lips to take a sip, letting the warm, red Pinot Noir heat up his throat as it passed down. "Don't hold it against me if our next date isn't all this one's cracking up to be," he said, taking another sip with a smile still on his face as he waited for her reaction to his assumption that there'd be another date between the two of them.
“She’s everything, all the time.” - Ryan Gosling on working with Emma Stone
Pizza - Ben & Caleb
Caleb stood on the sidewalk near the green, one hand casually in the pocket of his jeans, the other thumbing away at his iPhone 5 as he checked through his email. One of the major benefits to playing college ball, especially as a high-profile former high school star, was the free swag he was always getting. Enticing things from recruiters and agents, all coaxing him, encouraging him to put his best foot forward on the field so he can come play for the pro-teams - not to mention the ones who’d plied him with shiny stuff until he’d agreed to come on board for Richardson.
Caleb Duncan had been a major score, as had Elijah Tate, and between the two of them, Richardson was steadily making its presence known again in the college football circuit. Hell, if they kept playing at the rate they were going, they’d make top rank this year, no problem. Then again, the college system’s different from the professional, and with the way Alabama’s been playing…
Caleb quickly moved his thoughts back to one of his favorite topics to ponder - absolutely nothing at all - then perused his Facebook. He was wearing a grey henley sent to him in a giftbag from Hollister - a lot of the “model type” guys would get free clothes to promote the brand - as well as their cologne. He wasn’t exactly heading out on a date, but hey, he never knew who he might run into, especially with Ben. Ben was probably the only guy he knew who had just as good of luck with women as he did.
For that matter, Ben was one of the only people he ever really felt like himself around, or at least some close amalgamation of himself. If nothing else, he let Ben drive, which is saying something - the dark green Dodge 4x4 in the parking lot (2012, loaded with extras) was his pride and joy and he didn’t often pass up a chance to take ‘er out for a spin. Having a truck almost made him feel like home again, the little piece of good ol’ South Carolina he could take with him. Speaking of, where the hell was Ben?
Strutting out to his car, Ben's mind was on anything else but pizza with Caleb. While he was excited to see his friend and bond over a little conversation and a hot meal, other things had taken over his mind, ensuring him that he'd be just as scatter-brained as Caleb was after he received his first concussion playing football. Smiling a little at the memory, Ben reached his Camaro and popped open the door quickly, sitting down and firing the car up in one swift, quick motion. He threw the car into reverse and backed out faster than he needed too, still distracted by everything. Their date had ended days ago, but Ben couldn't get her out of his head. Sarah Wiggin. Everything about her had his mind running in circles, and even as he drove to pick up Caleb, he had a hard time pulling his thoughts away from the magnetic force that was Sarah.
Eyeing him instantly out on the green in front of his residence hall, Ben's face cracked into a smile and he slowed the car to a stop just in front of him. He rolled the windows down and leaned to get a better look at Caleb, who'd only just looked up from his fancy, surely new phone. "Hey," he called out with a smile, "you might be able to help me. I'm looking for some big football player. Broad shoulders, really ripped, not as good looking as me..." He laughed and unlocked the passenger door, suddenly all too excited to be spending time with his favorite sophomore. Although the pair of them never explicitly mentioned it to each other, they both found comfort in their friendship and Ben knew how important his influence was to Caleb. As Caleb got fastened in, Ben turned down his radio and looked over at his companion. "Nice phone, who's this one from?" he asked, tossing the car back into drive and speeding ahead towards their favorite pizza place.
Where's that Caleb character?
Sounds legit, dude. Meet you on the green?
Man, pizza sounds DAMN good right now…
Pizza it is, I'll swing by in a minute to pick you up on the way, man.
Before The Clock Strikes Twelve || Ben & Sarah.
A soft sigh parted from Sarah’s lips, while her eyes scanned the luxurious menu infront of her. Struggling to stay focused, she found her gaze linger upon him more than she would have liked to admit. In particular, she noticed the way his chin would stick out just slightly more than the rest of his features, the curve of his defined brows, the way his hairline shaped his forehead. He was beautiful, with little to no flaws that could be captured by the naked eye. “I’d love to hear you play.” Sarah grinned, after she had set down the menu, already decided on an order. “If you’re artsy, then you can’t be that horrific.” She teased, allowing her eyes to openly linger on him this time. The low light she knew, was much more flattering than any other. However, she imagined that he would look immaculate in any type of setting. He was blessed not only with good looks, but with charisma that was as addictive as his smile. Admittedly, she assumed that he would have been cocky, womanising, a bachelor. Yet, she had no evidence which would lead her to believe he was any of these things. Instead, she regarded him as the complete opposite. He was irresistible, in every way possible.
Sarah hardly noticed the presence of the waitress, until it came to speaking to her direct. The fact that she was coping on the first date she’d been on in months, was a miracle she found hard to fathom. For once, her palms weren’t sweaty, her words made sense, her presence seemed to be attracting positive energy and she felt at ease. Completely and utterly at ease. The conversation flowed, the chemistry was fizzing and the atmosphere seemed to blend perfectly around the bubble Sarah and Ben found themselves in. It was a perfect state to be in. Taking a sip of water, the red head didn’t expect to hear the confessions that were expected of her. All of which were revealing. Her cheeks began to obtain a pink shimmer and so, she kept the glass at her lips a while longer than she needed to. “Alright.” Sarah began, clasping her palms together. “If you must know.. I’m terrified of the dark.” Her eyes were glued to his, praying that she could find some sort of glitch that would allow her to know he took her seriously. “I love the rain, mainly because people associate it with melancholy. I however, think that it’s beautiful. For me, nothing beats the aftermath of a rainstorm.” She stopped talking then, taking in a steady breath. “I’m not a natural red head.” A playful smile lit up her expression, while she watched his reaction. Her confessions she realised, were not exactly exciting, but she felt comfortable enough to share them with him. “Last one.. ” She said, running her hand along the table to meet his arm. “I have a tattoo,” Her fingers walked their way slowly along the length of his, stopping to draw small circles on the back of his hand “But I can’t tell you where.”
Studying the way words fell out of her mouth, Ben let his eyes leave hers for just a moment to watch her hand against his. Something about it, some unnamed quality, had him completely mesmerized. For a fraction of a second, he forgot what it was to hold a conversation, until his attention snapped back into place and he replayed all of what she'd answered again quickly inside his mind. Smirking, he resisted the urge to slip in a comment about being shown the tattoo, but refused to let his mind wander in that direction. Instead, he nodded without a right-away response and let the scattered words that painted his mind fall together into an adequate response. "You're an intriguing soul, Miss Wiggin. And I'd love to play for you sometime," he said softly, leaning in just a little. Ben's own list lined itself up inside his head as he exhaled, allowing himself to imagine just a moment what it'd be like to brush his lips against hers. Instead of acting on impulse, he pulled back and took in the sensation of her fingers against his skin. Her touch felt white-hot and ice-cold all at once, making his mind only wander farther into uncharted territory.
"Alright..." he said finally, scooting his chair in her direction and leaning in to speak directly into her ear, softly over the quiet hum of the crowded restaurant. "I'm nothing without my morning coffee. I once turned in a hand-painted essay. My favorite thing in life is to see the little moments no one else pays mind to. Shakespeare endlessly fascinates me. I think I spend more time washing paint off my hands than putting it to canvas, and you," Ben paused, "are the most beautiful girl in this whole city and are endlessly captivating to me," he finished, pulling away to look her squarely in the face. Something about the effect she had on him was unexpected and had him searching through all the things she was putting out there. While he longed so badly to place a gentle kiss on her lips at that moment, he waited, not allowing himself to fall into temptation that might rush things along faster than the speed of light they already seemed to be travelling. Instead, he placed more distance between them and let his lips curl into a grin, his eyes reading hers like his favorite novel. "Those lips that love's own hand did make," he spoke softly, recalling Shakespeare's 145th sonnet. His hand, still mingling with hers, reached up to grab her hand and held it still, finding a way to weave their digits together. "Thank you," he said louder, giving her hand a delicate, tender squeeze like he would to the next of his guitar after a good practice session. "For joining me tonight."
You know what I live for?
Sounds good to me, I’ve got a deadline tomorrow afternoon for getting formatted for layout. Bring me coffee and I’ll write an article singing your praises.
You haven't written one already?
Haha, sounds good. Shoot me a text when you've got a free minute and I'll head on over.
You know what I live for?
Miss Wiggin would have to agree. Two of a mind; one of a not so unfamiliar kind.
Spoken like a true mastermind. When do I get to see you again?
