Summary: A hotel room in Paris, an overdue conversion mean to happen and an awaited late night confession with twenty years in the making.
Warnings: None really?
Word counting: 9.3k
She was aware of what it looked like from the outside. His hand was over her shoulders like it was nothing, his jacket around her body if she was cold, opening doors and finding her lower back to let her walk first, holding her hand tightly in crowded places. There was nothing strange about them joking around and talking too close to each other. She would put her head against his shoulder when she was tired or when she was laughing at his silly jokes. She would fix his clothes or his hair if it wasn't coated with that horrible gel she hated. Seeing them share a menu was completely normal, as if they didn't have two perfectly ready for them. As far as she was concerned, that night at least she had an excuse, using it as an opportunity to teach Ben some French. She used to be rather fluent in it, the basics she learned at university were useful, and now that Ben has moved, she has no choice but to pick up the books and start studying again.
They didn't mind if there were people around. Ben's mom, sister, and two friends were there, but they didn't bat an eye. After twenty-three years of friendship, it was just them being themselves. Under the dim lights of a fancy Parisian restaurant, they were in their own little bubble. The long week they spent together in London wasn't enough after weeks apart, so Ben sat right by her side, his hand either on her knee, around her shoulders or holding hers. Although they were always on the phone, whether texting, talking, or Facetimeing, it wasn't enough.
It had been like that since they were five, sharing a connection and love so big and deep that nobody could break it. There was no distance, time, argument, or person that could ruin them, and heaven knows some tried in vain. They spoke a language that no one else understood. Too many people tried. Too many got in and out of their lives trying to understand. Too many girlfriends and boyfriends got too jealous, failing to understand how the connection was so deep they didn't need words to communicate. By simply looking at each other they could have conversations that would make everyone around them wonder how they were able to do it. But for them it was easy. It was normal. It was a second nature, just like breathing or blinking.
Because it was such a beautiful thing, she was too scared to admit how much she loved Ben, too scared to see him walk away from her life. It was a risk she couldn't take. She couldn't risk losing her favorite person in the world, no matter how bad the butterflies were every time he kissed her head. She couldn't admit it even if it broke her heart to keep such a secret from him for so many years.
After dinner, nobody flinched when she had her arm around his waist. From the restaurant to the hotel, the two of them walked behind the group while the rest were talking. Since Ben got permission to leave the team for the day and stay with his family in Paris before going back to Strasbourg, he was focusing on being a pain in her ass and threatening to crash into her room. Not that she minded him being a pain in the ass. Not that she minded him staying in her room.
"So that's why you got us rooms at the same hotel as the team? To bother me even when I try to sleep?" She tried to sound surprised. She tried to act offended, but it was pointless. No when Ben was there, fully beaming at her like he was the funniest man in the universe. As much as she hated to admit it, Ben was all that to her and so much more. "Why do you want to ruin my solitude when you have a perfectly comfortable room with a bed for yourself?”
"I chose the hotel based on practicality. It wouldn't make sense to have you all in a different location," Ben responded with all his seriousness, looking down at her one more second before looking forward. "And I've got to share the room with an eighteen-year-old kid who scores, so excuse me for wanting some peace and quiet." He was trying to keep a straight face. She could see how he was lying. It wasn't about his new roommate or the snores. In the end, it was about getting some more time together, and she couldn't blame him for doing that.
“You’re picky. And dramatic. And you can always go to Harvey and Tom for peace and quiet” she joked, looking up at him to see his reaction. Unbothered, still looking at the front.
“They snore too" Ben shrugged. He wasn't wrong. Having heard them too many times on vacation, she was glad that she didn't have to sleep near them.
“Yeah, you snore as well.”
She knew it was a lie, and that was all it took to make him look at her again, an offended expression on his face. “I don’t!”
“Yeah, you’re right, you don’t. Thank God," she grinned, squeezing Ben's waist as he kissed her head even when she was being a little mean to him. "You're always hogging the covers, though." It wasn't surprising that Ben was laughing against her head because they knew it wasn't him the one doing that. It was always her but even then, Ben never complained.
At first, she thought Ben was kidding about staying the night in her room. Ben left while the others went to their rooms after saying their goodbyes in the hotel lift. The hug and the words 'See you tomorrow, guys' made her believe that was it, but she didn't say a thing. After running for ninety minutes against one of the most talented teams in the world, she couldn't blame him for wanting to crash into bed as soon as possible. With a whole week to spend with him, she kissed his cheek and whispered 'Goodnight, sweetheart' and called it a night.
After taking off her makeup and taking the fastest shower she could imagine, she heard the soft knock on the door. She didn't need to check who was there. It was the same knock she had heard thousands of times before. Whether it was at her house when they were kids, at hotels during vacations, or at her apartment after matches or long nights when Ben couldn't sleep. Two quick taps, then another, then the wait.
She opened without hesitation, seeing a familiar pair of eyes staring back at her. At first, she thought he was joking, but then he appeared, hoodie up, waiting with his bags to come in. Ben didn't say anything. He didn’t move either, waiting for her to decide if he could really stay or not. She wanted to make a joke or remark quickly. She wanted to say anything, but her mind was completely blank, so she just moved to the side, letting Ben walk in.
The first thing she did was lock the door and put a 'Do not disturb' sign on it, not wanting anyone to bother them. After that, she walked to the bed, sitting there while Ben left his things on the side of the room. He didn't say anything, focused on finding something inside his duffle bag.
"You know, if you missed me that much, you could have just told me," she joked, only getting a glance from Ben. It was the 'Don't be ridiculous' look on his face that she knew so well after years of knowing him. That expression Ben always had on his face when she said something silly, like the last time she got drunk and murmured 'Maybe you're getting tired of me'.
In response, Ben threw a zipper bag onto the bed, landing it next to her legs. “As a thank you for letting me escape from teenage snores.”
“Yet again, dramatic,” she giggled as she picked up the bag from the bed. With just one glance, she understood what it was. It only took a second for her to realize. Then, she held it against her chest automatically. “Are you serious?”
The white material with blue details was all she needed to tell that it was his team's jersey. She didn’t open it. There was no mystery as to why it was inside a bag, sweaty and probably stinky. Not that she hadn't dealt with that before. Not that she hasn't hugged Ben right after matches when he's been a disgusting mess. There probably wasn't anyone else who didn't find it disgusting. However, they still had a full day in France and to return to Strasbourg, so it was logical to keep it away until they could clean it. Everything was planned out in advance by the bastard.
“I thought you might like it for your collection,” Ben replied in an unbothered voice as he grabbed his toiletry bag and some clothes. It wasn't a lie that she had a collection. All of the different jerseys he wore, Leicester, Chelsea, National team, Crystal Palace. Home, away or third kit, she had them all. She had a special place in her closet for them. The Champions League winner one was well framed in her living room. “And before you ask, yes, I’m sure. Even when I just played against PSG. And no, I don’t wanna give it to anyone else. It’s all yours. For coming to see me. For being here. For always being here for me.”
She felt as if he was reading her mind. The ‘You don’t wanna keep it? Give it to the boys? To your mum?’ questions were right there on her lips, but Ben answered them all before she could even ask.
She didn’t think about it. She got up from bed, put the bag aside, and went straight to hug him. In the middle of a hotel room that she thought was too fancy for her, she placed her arms around his body and stayed there. As she rested her head on his chest, Ben's arms encircled her, and neither of them moved, enjoying the peace of the room. His heartbeats against her ears could not be muted by the buzz of the TV in the back. Even after two decades of being in each other's lives, it was still one of her favorite sounds.
"There's no place I'd rather be, Benji boy," she murmured, closing her eyes as Ben kissed her head.
It was him who broke the hug first, but he didn't move too far away, looking down at her as he spoke. "I'm taking a proper shower and then we'll call it a night, yeah?"
Ben disappeared behind the bathroom door after another quick kiss on her forehead. These were the days when she could not help but wish that was her normal bedtime routine. Ben by her side, them being something more than just two best friends sharing a hotel room like it was a slumber party. She couldn't help but wish they shared a bed every night, talking about their days at work and training.
Before the knot inside her throat grew too big, she walked to the windows, not wanting to go to bed yet. She didn't want to fall asleep while waiting for Ben, so she stayed up. Although Ben didn't mention it, she knew he did whatever he could to get her a view room. Normally she would be mad at him for doing extravagant things for her, but for once she was happy he did it because it was stunning. I felt surreal watching Place de la Concorde and part of Champs-Élysées from the window. That was one of the days when she didn't know what to say to thank Ben for making it possible. A simple 'thank you' didn't feel enough. Baking him some cookies probably would be close enough after he complained again and again about how much he missed her chocolate chip ones. Maybe doing some extra dough and storing it in the freezer so he could bake them when she wasn't around.
Her attention was focused on the lights outside and the couple walking by as she heard the bathroom door open. Although Ben walked back into the room, she didn't move, feeling her feet glued to the carpet. Somehow it felt like the peace of the night would be ruined if she moved.
"I still need to know what all that gossip at work was about. You’re all mysterious so it might be someone sleeping with someone when they shouldn’t. And you can't sleep until you tell me what happened with Cat and Joe," Ben reminded her because the man lived for the gossip, especially her office gossip. And after all, she promised to tell him after dinner. "What are you doing there? Something interesting?"
She wasn't surprised when Ben's hands circled her waist and stayed there. She instinctively moved her hands over his, twirling their fingers together, making sure Ben didn't leave. When her back rested against his chest, her body automatically relaxed. A mixture of fresh clothes, shampoo, shower gel and a homey smell filled the air. It smelled like Ben. Heaven and hell combined.
She remembered her outfit just then. While Ben's legs touched hers, she didn't flinch at the fact that she wasn't wearing pants. It didn't bother her either when she discovered Ben wasn't wearing any. It somehow seemed normal to them in their own little world. There were too many nights out during the off-seasons, one of them too drunk, and the other having to help the other get undressed to get into bed. There were too many nights sharing bed, Ben too lazy to drive all the way back to Surrey after a match, crashing in her London flat that was closer to Stamford Bridge. There were many days in the sun by pools or on the beach, where they saw each other without much clothing. She couldn't keep track of how many times Ben fell asleep in her arms, hands around her body, head on her chest. She couldn't count the number of times she told the boys to shut up while Ben napped. She would always hold him tight, scratching his head and kissing his forehead while their friends made jokes and called them The Chilwells. Or Mrs. Chilwell. Or The First Lady of the Chilwell Residence. It was impossible for her to count how many photos existed of them napping on deck chairs and boat decks.
Even though it was ridiculous, shirts, underwear, and cuddles were not new or weird for them. It was more of a tradition.
"Why do we never come here? Why don't we come more often? It's breathtaking. The Moulin Rouge is literally half an hour away from here. You walk fifteen minutes and you have the Louvre and Palais Garnier. How cool is that?"
"We don’t do it because we live in London and when we go on vacation we try to escape the craziness of the city?” Ben wondered as he leaned against her shoulder, resting his chin against it. There were a couple drops of water dripping from his hair to her shirt, but she couldn't care less. It was his shirt, after all. One Ben had to give her as soon as he had a chance to say hi to her since she had forgotten to bring one for bed.
“I live in London, you live in Surrey. You don’t do crazy, sweetheart. You do green grass, tall trees, and bird noises while I do Warren Street and Victoria line during rush hour to get to work" she remarked sarcastically, elbowing him lightly. She always complained about the city's mess, but deep down she loved it.
“I told you three thousand times that you could move to Surrey if you wanted!” Ben exclaimed, biting her cheek to bother her. It didn't bother her, it only made her feel more butterflies when he kissed her on the same spot. She even wondered if his joke of 'I didn't shave since you were coming' was true.
"You told me, but you didn't ask me. Semantics, babe,” she remarked. She wasn't sure she could say no if he asked, but she didn't want to think about it. She didn't see the point in doing it now that Ben wasn't even in London. "Plus, it's too far from work. I wasn't going to drive two hours to get there. Going all the way there to visit you was already bad enough."
"It's not two hours, but then you're calling me dramatic.”
Her smile didn't fade. It couldn't fade when he stroked her stomach over the soft cotton of the shirt with his thumb. Ben would occasionally move his chin over her shoulder, dropping some lazy kisses here and there, shifting carefully. She squeezed his hands tighter, stroking his tattooed skin while she prayed to whatever was out there to give her a sign or the courage she never had to go for it.
“How are you?” she whispered, turning her head toward him. Even after 23 years, she still couldn't comprehend how someone could be so beautiful and breathtaking. She couldn't understand how she could feel so many things by looking at his blue eyes.
“I’m good. Why?”
Without letting go of his hands, she half turned her body, staring at him like he was crazy. "Why?" Because you just ran 90 minutes against the team that won every single available title last year, Ben. You had to keep bloody Kvaratskhelia on his toes. Not even mentioning you went from not playing to playing full time. I know what you can do on the pitch, but damn, I'm worried about you getting hurt."
"First of all, you're always afraid that I'll get hurt. And second, it's my job, sweetheart. Running and keeping Kvaratskhelia on his toes. Whether it's PSG or Arsenal. It's what I do."
Even though she knew Ben was right, it didn't make things any easier. Each tackle, fight, and foul made her suffer. Every time she saw someone going against Ben, all the memories of every single injury came flooding back to her mind, making it difficult for her to concentrate. Still, she was immensely proud of him. She knew better than anyone how much he had suffered and waited for that opportunity. He put his head down and waited for a comeback and a chance to prove he was still a talented player. Now he was fighting and working hard to prove he deserved to be there, starting in every match. Every time she saw him play, whether it was on television or in person, she was filled with pride. It wasn't any different that night. No matter how many people were watching, she couldn't help but cry tears of joy when she saw him play at Parc des Princes.
“Can I tell you something? “ She asked softly, measuring her words as she looked straight into the street again. "I'm very proud of you. And I know your dad would be very proud, too."
For a moment, she thought he would let go of her. There was a moment when she thought perhaps she had overstepped. It would have been weird since it never really happened. She thought she might have ruined their relationship when Ben let go of her waist. Her heart sank for a long, terrible second, but then she felt his fingers again, moving beneath her shirt and resting against her skin. As soon as he was settled, she placed her hands over his. She felt his arms tighten around her waist. His palms pressed against her stomach. It wasn't something new. He was just trying to ground himself and she wouldn't stop him.
She didn't have to look at him to know that he was thinking about what to say. He needed a second, and after a little soft kiss on her shoulder, he finally spoke again. "It's all I want, love. That's all I try to do, so thank you. It means the world to me," he murmured, leaning on her, resting his head against hers. “I think you'll love Strasbourg. It's like something out of a fairytale. It's kind of like the little town in Beauty and the Beast. Everyone says it’s beautiful at Christmas time. Cold as shit, but nice. You'll probably want a flat by the river."
“Let’s be honest, I'll like it because you’re there. London sucks now. I don’t know how I did when you were in Leicester” she confessed, a lazy smile on her face as she ran her fingertips over the tattoos on his hands and arms.
“Too busy at uni. And too busy dating that dumb lad who thought he was God's gift. I still remember how your parents despised him. My dad hated him. Not even mum liked him and that’s a lot to say.”
“God, please don’t. Don’t start that,” she begged, wanting to hide behind the grey curtains in front of them. Even the memory of how stupid she was back then made her want to hide.
“What was his name again? Dave? Drew? Dough? What a loser. All the boys wanted to punch him. I was the first one on the list," he laughed softly, and she felt him smiling against her shoulder. She was already a mushy mess in his arms, and that only made it worse and worse. She couldn't hide the goosebumps all over her body, and at that point she wasn't even sure if she wanted to.
"Hey, you don't have the most impressive dating record either. I have dated losers, but you? Don’t even make me talk.”
She elbowed his stomach again, a little harder than before. She hated thinking about all the ridiculous guys she dated in her life, but nothing could compare to thinking about all the girls Ben dated. She hated every single one of them. It wasn't even about jealousy, it was about the fact that none of them deserved him. None of them were good enough for her best friend. Ben's exes also hated her. She was the girl in the middle of all the boys. She was part of every trip. She was included in every single plan. She was the one who kicked footballs and made passes with them. She was the one kicking their asses at FIFA and telling Ben not to worry because he would always be on her team. They never got it and it would always end badly, even without trying.
She had to -almost literally and didn't do it because Ben didn't let her- kick one of his exes after realizing she had been using him for all the wrong reasons. One of them ended up breaking up with him after realizing Ben wouldn't make anything public. One girl broke up with him because she found them cuddling on the couch under a blanket, Oscar by their sides, the perfect image of domestic bliss. One got angry after finding out that she wasn't going to get Ben's spare keys, but his best friend did. One was out the door after asking ‘Why does she call herself Oscar’s mum?’ and ‘Why do you call her love, baby, and sweetheart when she’s your friend?’. As for the last one, she wasn't proud to admit she lost her temper when she heard the girl call herself ‘Mrs Chilly’ and ‘Oscar's future new mother’. She didn't know which one hurt more, the first or the second. It was Mason who always called her Mrs Chilly. Ben told her from day one that she was Oscar's mum. There was no one else who could take those titles.
"We can have that talk if you want" Ben joked, tickling her sides to make her giggle.
Holding his hands around her waist again, she gave him no chance to go on. Also, the fact that there was no longer any space between their bodies didn't help ease the heat she felt on her cheeks.
"It's bedtime, smartass. You need to sleep or you'll get wrinkles, and I won't like you anymore. Don't even mention that you've got to look cute in those Alo photos you've got to take.”
“Thought you said I’m always cute!”
“Maybe I lied.”
"I don't believe you, so I'm ignoring it. How about a movie? Not a scary one because we don’t wanna deal with you having nightmares. Or maybe we can rewatch something? I'm sure we'll crash in the first five minutes, but we can try." Ben shrugged, waiting for her response. However, it never came because her mind was elsewhere for a moment. “Hey, you alright there?”
"Yeah, I was just-" she stopped for a moment, put her thoughts together, and then continued. "How did it happen?" How did we go from Milton Keynes to Paris? One day it was our mums sipping tea while we ran around the garden with little our sisters running behind us. It was your grandpa teaching us to play with both legs and now it’s this. It’s insane.”
She had no idea where all that was coming from. She didn't know why it all suddenly came to her mind, but she couldn't stop it. In a way, she was used to that life with Ben. A fancy hotel room and expensive clothes were a perk of the job. She didn’t like him spending all that money on gifts for her, but with time she learned that it was one of his ways of showing love to his people. It took time for her to learn to let go of the complaints and accept the way things were. She couldn't go with Ben to some fancy restaurant wearing a Primark bag. It was one thing to work, but quite another to live in his shiny world. When she was at home with her family and friends, nobody cared, but when she was at five stars hotels in Champs Élysées, she had to dress appropriately. In Ben’s world designer clothes were as normal as joggers and trainers.
She never complained, but somehow she missed the past. Home, the simpler times, their younger selves. Barbecues with their families, Ben’s grandpa teaching them how to play football, their dads laughing over beers, their mums and grandmas gossiping, their sisters playing with their dolls. She missed the smell, the peace, the familiarity. Watching Paris from a hotel room that cost more than her monthly rent felt surreal and left her wondering how their lives turned into that.
“Honestly? No idea. Feels like yesterday, but also like a lifetime ago. You with your little braids and your red boots. Disney movies on the couch under blankets. Sneaking into your kitchen to get some chocolate buttons and cookies.”
"That's because you're always hungry. Even when we were kids your stomach was always calling. Feeding you has always been expensive. My fridge is confused because now it’s always full.”
"I took care of it last week. I'll do the same next time I'm around," Ben laughed, kissing her temple. "Sometimes I can't believe you are still dealing with my crap when I was always such a handful. Still am, but it used to be a lot worse. It wasn't an easy couple of years."
“You were never a pain in the ass. I mean, sometimes you are one. But you know, you’re my pain in the ass. It's nothing I can't handle," she admitted, turning around to face him. “Honestly, there’s nowhere I'd rather be.”
It wasn't a lie that the last few years had been a mess. They were hard. His ACL injury put them on the brink of killing each other more times than they’d like to admit. It took a terrible toll on him. Most days Ben was just her Ben, the sweetest man she had ever met, but there were some days when she just wanted to slap him. On those really bad days -when it hurt and it seemed like there was no progress or when the doctors said it would take longer to get back- he would become a nightmare. He'd get grumpy, reply with one word, and refuse to accept any kind of assistance even if he needed it. In those awful days, he would keep pushing her away, telling her she could just grab her things and go home, no need to stay there as a babysitter for a broken toy, breathing constantly in his neck. On those days, he was the definition of 'You hurt the one you love the most'.
The majority of the time, she would take a deep breath, get busy around the house, and ignore his words no matter how much they hurt. On very bad days, she would snap. She would yell at him to quit being a bitch. To stop acting like he was invencible. To stop building a damn wall between them when there was never one. That was not them. It's never been them. It terrified her that Ben could build a wall so high and thick that no one would be able to tear it down, not even her. There were usually tears and slammed doors during those days. There was a pain that couldn't be ignored or erased. There was the constant question burning in their brains, wondering if that was it after more than ten years of being family. She would drive him to rehabilitation or medical checks, and they wouldn't even talk if they had a discussion. There was just terrible thick, heavy silence inside the car. Sometimes it spoke more than words could.
It was worse when the discussion was in front of someone else. Ben being a grumpy bastard, and her throwing a sad ‘I’m tired of this. You can deal with him today’ before leaving. His friends would call him a dick for being so rude. It was his parents who told him to stop hurting one of his favorite people. The one who was there before the fame and money. The one that would always stay even if all that disappeared. Sometimes they would try to stop her from storming out of the house, but it never worked. Sally or Harvey usually reminded her that Ben loved her more than anyone in the world, but sometimes it was hard to believe. She would always come back to make sure he was okay, because he was more important than anything else. Her pride and self preservation were less important than going back to his place to make sure he had his pills and water near.
It didn't matter how late it got, she would always come back. There were too many nights when one of them gave in first, moving from room to room. In the end, there would be tears, apologies, and cuddles. Years later, she still remembered the sound of clutches being left on the floor by the bed and Ben's hand resting on her waist. Carefully. Tentatively. Full of fear for her reaction. Panicked that they had ruined the best thing they ever had. It was full of worry about realizing it was too late and the bridges had been burned.
Then there was the rest of his injuries, his dad passing, more heartbreak, games lost, Chelsea forgetting about him. It was like living in a never-ending nightmare. A constant waiting game. Constantly wondering what would be taken away next. Tears, desperation, anguish, and so much pain sometimes it was difficult to breath. There were days when they would hold each other, hoping that the storm would pass quickly. In those days, they built a little shelter over their heads, hoping it would hold on even when it shook. It didn’t broke. They stayed there and somehow they made it.
“I still don't know what I did in my past life to deserve you, but I've gotta do it again to keep you in the next life too,” he smiled, kissing her cheek before letting her go.
She hated when Ben walked away. Not just that night, but every single day. She hated watching him walk away from her side over and over again. It was terrifying that it was happening again after he moved to France. The thought of easily spending two years without him terrified her when she had no idea how she had survived a single month away.
Then the idea hit her square in the face. Suddenly, she was talking before she could stop herself. “What if I stayed?”
“The next life? You better,” Ben joked, sitting on the side of the bed, still looking at her.
“No, I mean- What if I stay here? In France. With you."
It was a whisper, but Ben could hear it perfectly and they both knew what that question meant.
In the dim hotel room, she saw Ben's brain realize what was going on. She could see the moment he realized what it meant. Most importantly, Ben saw when she grabbed her necklace with one hand. She has carried that same gold locket since she turned eighteen. Ben bought it as a birthday gift for her that year with the money he earned in his first paycheck as a professional footballer. After seeing it, she slapped his arm because she didn't want him to spend so much money on her, but she loved it so much it's hard to describe.
Back then, the only photo she placed on it was of the two when they were eight years old. Her mum took it at her birthday party. They were smiling at the camera, mouths full of chocolate after eating cake and chocolate buttons like it was the last time they could do it. Years later, she added another photo, this time with Oscar in the middle of them. Her tiny little family was right by her heart. No matter where they were, her favorite boys were with her. It was a birthday present for her, and it was also something she could take to uni to remember her best friend. Something to remind her of home. Eventually, it became the one object that kept her grounded. Her lucky charm. It was her most precious possession. It was the one thing she held whenever she felt her heart racing. A guy she was dating tried to replace it a few years ago by buying her a new one. He said it could be ‘something more us’. It could be ‘something less Chilly’. It never worked. She never took it off. In the end, the guy vanished from her life.
After ten years, she was still wearing it. She held it in her hand when the world was too much for her. She needed it that night. Ben knew it. He had it written all over his face. He knew what was happening. Her heart was jumping, so she held on to it. It wasn't just jumping. There was a feeling that it would burst out of her chest or explode. After more than two decades of friendship and who knows how many years of being in love with Ben, she was finally showing her cards slowly. The most terrifying part was how Ben sat still, eyes fixated on her face, not moving. He was just a few steps away from her, but it felt like an ocean in the middle of them. It felt like being back in London while he was in Strasbourg.
"Sweetheart, what are you talking about? Don’t get me wrong, but what about your job?”
“That’s the gossip I wanted to tell you about. Work isn't going well. It's a mess. It all went to hell two or three weeks ago. It was all fun and games and sipping pints in the pub on Fridays after work. As soon as the position opened for a promotion, it was all Hunger Games out there. It looks like the damn Squid Game, but the price is no money, just a manager's contract with a nice office and a raise. I really don't feel like fighting with half the world. I don't want to be in the middle of a civil war. I don't have the energy to do it. Right now it seems like everyone is trying to stab each other in the back to get it. Even Sam. She was talking in my back, which is absurd considering I'm not even trying to get the job. What a cunt.”
“What? Sam did that? Are you serious? But she’s your friend. What’s wrong with her? What did she say?" Ben asked, ignoring the elephant in the room for a moment.
"She told Max that I shouldn't be given the job. My best friend is a footballer, so I don't need a raise or that's what she thinks. And now that you've moved to France, I'll need a lot of time off to see you so I wouldn’t be able to do it properly. Oh, by the way? She's fucking Max. She thinks nobody knows," she explained, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I didn't tell you anything because it happened after you left. You just moved, Benji. You were training and about to play your first match. A new team, a new city, a new country, a new language, and new teammates. It’s even a new league, baby. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t call you with such a silly little problem.”
"Alright, come here." It was a full affirmation rather than a suggestion. In a way, it sounded like a plea. She didn't have time to think about it as his hand was extended to her. Once her fingers were tangled with his, it felt like home again. It felt like she could breathe again. She was planning on sitting by his side, but Ben had other ideas. As he rested his free hand on her waist, he made her sit on his lap, facing him fully as she straddled him. That was his way of saying she wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. "Love, you're telling me that your workmate has basically betrayed you. That’s not a silly problem. None of your problems are silly or little. Not for me.”
"You leaving was the biggest problem. My job is just that, a job. It’s not even my dream job anyway. It’s not something I want to do for the rest of my life,” she confessed with a sad little shrug of her shoulders. “That’s why I wouldn’t mind using my savings to move here. Cat and Joe are looking for a place to move together, so I'd do them a favor by moving out and leaving the flat for them."
“There’s no using your savings here. You can be here and do nothing for the rest of your life if that’s what you want. Money isn't an issue here. I'll take care of everything. You know I just want you to be happy, sweetheart.”
“Ben…”
“No, don’t 'Ben' me. You know it’s true,” he insisted, bringing their joined hands to his lips. He slowly and surely kissed each finger knuckle of her hand, as if he had all the time in the world to spend with her. “You mean it? About you staying?”
As soon as Ben finished kissing her fingers, he kissed her palm, then gently placed both of her hands on his shoulders. As much as she tried, she couldn't pick out her favorite part of what was going on at that moment. She loved how comfortable it felt to sit on his lap with her legs around his waist as if this was a seat only for her. How his right hand automatically went to her waist under her shirt without apologising. How the other one sat on her back, his fingertips tracing lines across her column. She loved how he stared at her as if she hung the moon and stars in the sky just for him. The way he'd let his head fall back slightly as her fingers stroked the back of his head and played with his hair. She wanted that and him and them for the rest of her life, and for once it felt like she was close enough to get it.
"I really mean it,” she whispered like it was a holy secret that nobody else could know. "I really wanna stay."
There was nothing she had ever been more scared of in her life. At the same time, she felt relieved like never before.
"Does this mean we can finally stop lying to ourselves and pretending that this isn't the most important, most real, and longest relationship we've ever had? Because we both know it is true. We both know this will always end up like this. Even if there are fifteen beds around, we'll always end up all over each other in the middle of the same bed."
She wanted to say something, but suddenly her brain was on a shortcut. She forgot what words were. She forgot to create a phrase. She hardly remembered her name. All she could focus on was his blue eyes and the way he looked at her. Deep down, behind all the 'You know it's obvious' rhetoric, she could see Ben was also terrified. There were too many times when she saw his face filled with that 'I'm afraid of what's coming' expression. Time after time, she has wanted to kiss the worry off his face, and perhaps now was the time for her.
“Benji, I-“ she tried to say, but words stuck in her throat and Ben interrupted her.
She couldn’t talk, but he couldn’t stop talking.
"It's up to you, though. We can pretend it never happened, go to bed, sleep, and wake up the same as we have always been. Or we can do something about it and start planning the rest of our lives together. Which would be awesome because I've had Pinterest boards full of inspiration for a wedding with you. I might have your ring planned as well. Because, let's be real, if you tell me you like me even half as much as I love you, I'll put a ring on your finger before the end of the year. We can finally move your things to the house and you leave the apartment for Cat and Joe. Not like half of your things aren’t already at mine, yknow? Like you didn’t help me pick up every single thing at the house. Even the house. But we can find a place here, not just a flat like I got now. We find something together. We do this properly. We can have another dog, whatever you want just say it and we’ll get it. Now I'm wondering if I should ask for your dad's blessing or give him and your mum a heads up or something."
Ben just shrugged. The bastard admitted that he loved her and shrugged. Like it was normal. Like it wasn’t the most memorable day in her life. Like it wasn’t the most magnificent thing she'd ever heard. Like he didn’t announce that he wanted to marry her. He didn't just admit that he had part of their future planned on his Pinterest account, just like she did in secret too. She wanted to kill him. Slowly. With kisses.
“It's cute of you to think I just like you. Sir Alex Ferguson was still at United and Mourinho at Chelsea and I was already crazy about you,” she smiled shyly, stroking his cheek gently with her thumb. “To say I just like you would be disrespectful considering how crazy in love I am with you, Benjamin. And right now I’m shitting my pants but-“
During the past twenty-three years, she has imagined too many times how her first kiss with Ben could be. She daydreamed - and dreamed - about all the different occasions and moments. She imagined how and when it would happen. When she woke up in his arms or by his side, she imagined what it would be like to wake up with a kiss on her lips instead of one on her forehead. Every time Ben fell asleep on her, she dreamed of kissing him to wake him up. She thought about kissing him every time she got home to find him there. Each time she saw him celebrate a goal. Every long conversation at home. On vacation, quiet days, loud nights and everything in between. She wanted his soft lips against her. His stubble scratching her skin. His hands roaming around her body. She dreamed of all the options, but prayed for one opportunity. One chance to put in one kiss all those years of love and adoration.
What she never expected was that opportunity coming on a trip to visit Ben. It never occurred to her that it would be in a hotel in Paris after Ben moved to France. None of those options were on her list. She never dreamed of Champs-Élyseé after a PSG match. She didn't expect any of it, so when it happened, she was even happier. Fingers grasping into her like she was about to disappear, foreheads together. Chest to chest, heart to heart, no space between their bodies, Ben made sure to keep her close.
She couldn't help but think of all the times she almost did it. All the times she almost kissed Ben. All those times when she thought 'This is it,' then something happened. There was always someone interrupting. There was always a sign from the universe to let her know she had made the wrong decision. However, that night, there was nothing, and before she had a chance to decide whether to say no, Ben's lips were against hers. Full of love and desperation, sweet, tender, and warm. A long, careful kiss made them moan and whimper softly against each other's lips. As Ben tightened his grip around her body, she melted between his arms and tugged at his hair harder.
Time slowed down suddenly. Paris didn't exist outside. The world outside was nonexistent. All she could feel was adoration and butterflies fluttering insanely in her stomach. Tenderness filled the air. It felt magical and soft. Like the cold side of a pillow in the middle of summer. Like a soft puppy. Like happiness. It felt like home.
“I love you too. Just in case it wasn't enough to admit I wanna marry you one day very soon,” he murmured against her lips, one hand leaving her waist to hold her face the same way she cradled his. “Maybe we should have a winter wedding? Summer will be chaotic with the World Cup. We can do something small in the winter. Because there’s no way I’m waiting another year to do it.”
"I'd never say no to marrying you, and a winter wedding sounds nice” she smiled, finally being able to kiss him as much as she wanted. It felt like heaven, freedom, and happiness all at once. If she had known it would feel so good, she would have done it sooner. Years earlier.
Without saying a word, Ben opened the locket on her necklace. He had the cutest smile on his face as he looked at the photo. It was as if he couldn't comprehend it. As if they were a perfect miracle. "Isn't it crazy how much we've grown? Like, can you believe those two made it? That they ended up together in the end?"
“I never believed it would happen, but I hoped it would," she smiled sweetly, kissing his forehead. "Can you imagine someone telling them back then? Like 'Hey, in twenty-something years, this is going to be your life and you'll end up being the love of each other's lives.'. Sounds insane. I know little me would die if she found out one day that handsome boy she had a crush on would talk about marrying her."
"Little Ben would go crazy knowing the girl of his dreams would agree to get married and date him one day. She's the coolest. She's the prettiest. And she's a baller."
"I'm not. I never was."
"You could kick my ass, love. You could dribble like a pro. At seven you could kick the ball better than a lot of lads I know."
"Guess I'm cool, but not cool enough to take me on a date, uh? Because right now it sounds like you're planning a wedding before we even have a real date.”
"Twenty-three years together, and now she wants to go on a date with me? Couldn’t you say something sooner, sweetheart?” Ben joked, burying his face in her neck. It was the first kiss there that made her push her hips against his, Ben only making things worse when he gave her skin a gentle, tentative bite.
It tickled her in the most delightful way. It made her giggle like a little girl having the time of her life. If Ben kissed her neck and placed his hands right over her ass like he was doing, she wanted it every single day of her life. It felt too comfortable. It felt normal. It felt like her body was burning. "It would have been nice if you had said something too, wouldn't it?”
“The boys said they'd throw me to the Senne if I didn't make a move this week. But I'd swim the whole damn thing for you." Another bite, another kiss. Another squeeze of his hands. Heaven on earth.
“No, not dying on our first weekend as a couple. Not allowed. I finally have a boyfriend my parents like, so you're not dying on me," she joked, tickling his sides. The sound of his laugh was like music. It was like a flawless symphony. It was her favorite sound in the whole world. "Damn, we've got to tell the boys tomorrow. We gotta tell Alex and your mum.”
That was one of the scariest parts. Now they were inside their little bubble. Inside that hotel room, with Ben’s arms glued around her body, with his kisses and the way he looked at her, nothing could happen to them. She wouldn't allow it. Ben wouldn't allow it. Under the covers of the bed, she knew nothing could reach them, but in the morning, things would be different. They needed to get up in the morning, go out for breakfast, and face everyone. Them and their expectations. She knew nobody would judge them, but everything felt soft and new. And then there was this tiny part inside her that was full of panic about doing it. Especially about doing it so soon.
"They love you and they know I’m crazy about you. They know everything I do it’s thinking about you. They'll be happy. Not as happy as I am, but close enough," Ben smiled as he kissed the tip of her nose. "I really love you so much. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. I swear I had a long list of thousand reasons why I never said it. All of them are probably ridiculous, but to me they make sense."
“Hey, no apologies for that," she smiled back at him, running her hands down his chest. "And I really love you too, grandpa.”
“Did you just called me grandpa?!” Benjamin exclaimed, seemingly offended and completely surprised.
She had been waiting for weeks to say it to bother him and now it was her time. "Aren't you the oldest on the team? Didn't you just complain about your roommate being a kid five minutes ago? It sounds like grandpa vibes to me, babe. Full old man. Plus, let’s not mention the white hairs. Going salt and pepper already. Gotta say it’s sexy as hell" she shrugged, patting his chest as she tried to get up and escape from his arms.
However, it was all for nothing. Ben not only didn't let her go, but threw her on the bed, kissing her all over her face. “I’ll teach you what this old man can do to you, sweetheart”.
The tickles somehow transformed into soft kisses. Ben moved from her face to her neck, and after a while, he stayed there, hiding from the world. As she breathed deeply, she took in everything around her. The way he smelled, how he felt, and the way his heart beat against hers. She wanted to memorize forever the way his body melted against her. The way they still fit perfectly. She loved the way his hands and lips slowly learned again about her skin. The thought of doing the same with his body made her tremble with excitement. She wanted to cover his skin in kisses, and touch every single inch of body. She wanted to spend the night doing it and keep going in the morning. Soft hands, tender touches, loving kisses, warm skin, messy hair.
Slowly and carefully, his hand moved up under her shirt, and she only hugged him tighter. She didn't want to let him go ever again. She didn’t want him to leave in the first place, but she had to deal with it. She had to learn to let go, but she was not expecting it to be for so short a period of time. She never thought that less than two months from the day she hugged Ben goodbye at the airport, she would end up there, holding him in her arms, making plans for their future. Yet somehow it made sense. Because that’s always been her Ben. The one who loved food, movies, football, and friends and family and sleeping -especially over her-. The boy with a heart of gold and eyes like the ocean. The one with the boyish smile and bad jokes. The one who turned her insane in the best and worse way. Who never got mad when she made messes in his kitchen and when she burrowed -and never returned- his clothes. The one who held her even on her worst days until she felt whole again. It was Ben who kept the pieces together and, if they fell apart, he put them back together. It was Ben who loved her in every version without judging her, so ending up in his arms was not surprising. It was obvious. It was written.
"Are you really staying? Can we really give this a try?" Ben asked softly, eyes full of hope and love.
"I'm staying. I mean if you want.”
“I want everything. The dates, the rings, our home, dogs, you in a white dress, maybe a couple tiny one running around the house turning us insane when we final settle down for good. Surrey babies that look like you. Even if you’re gonna say you want them to look like me, eyes and all. They’re gonna be kicking footballs and leaving dirty boots like mum and dad used to when they were their age.”
“You think they’re gonna like movies and sleeping as much as we do?”
“Movies and naps are gonna be the foundation of our family. That's what the Chilwells do." The Chilwells. She could get used to that. "Say it again? That you're staying. Because I really can't belive it."
"I'm staying. You know why?" she murmured, moving a strand of hair away from his forehead. As his fingertips drew invisible shapes around her ribs, it was hard for her to focus, but she needed to talk. "Because I love you. But also because this thing we have here? There’s nothing that can break it. Nothing. Us, this, everything we built together, our life together, that’s forever, sweetheart. France, London, I don’t care. You name it, I’ll be there. Just say the word and I’m packing. It's you and me to the end of the damn world, Benji."
"To the end of the damn world, sweetheart."
While the world and Paris ran outside the window, Ben kissed her again to seal their new promise, but especially he kissed her to sign her official status as Mrs. Chilly.
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