Anxious, chestnut eyes surveyed their surroundings from behind thick framed glasses, and timidly the young director made his approach to the counter, where the ancient man waited patiently, seeming as though he had been awaiting Benton's arrival this entire time. Abused fingers laced together as his quiet footsteps filled the air, and as soon as he reached his destination, Benton was ready to turn around and retreat back home. Nobody knew of the forbidden secret he was about to share, and it surprised and scared Benton to know that he was about to share this secret with this stranger-- a secret that he could not even tell his beloved Erroll...
It was too late now. Before the old man Benton stood, and as shaking fingers tugged at one another, Benton cleared his throat. "Mister... Iroh, I presume?" Benton began politely in his deep voice. "I... I've come to you... for... advice." He lingered heavily at the counter, the room beginning to spin around him as his brain attempted to put his desperation into words. Whether the old man passed heavy judgement, harsh criticism, or merely laughed in his face, Benton only hoped that word would not get back to Erroll... or the tallied man...
"At home, Mister Volkheim...-- Erroll," he breathed under his breath, a smile breaking through his otherwise melancholy exterior, "is my world. There is nothing in this world that I adore... that I love... more than that man. But, recently..." he swallowed, "there has been... a-another..." His smile had since then faded, a heavy, regretful frown tugging at the corners of his lips, and quickly he averted his eyes. "Jack..." he whispered, the spoken name leaving his lips sending a pleasant chill to course through his bones as a weight settled in the pit of his stomach. "He was... so unexpected... but within him I see myself," he explained with a solemn shake of his head. "I... connect with him, relate to him in ways that just... do not exist with my Erroll. Feelings have become confused and branched out in ways that I do not condone, and there is far too much at stake for this-- this..."
Benton closed his eyes tightly and bowed his head, willing the spinning to stop, the vigorous trembling of his hands to stop, but as the desperation pulled him under completely, Benton became ravenous for advice, to be set straight... to be given a direction.
"I am a very traditional man, Mister Iroh," Benton forced the words as he looked up to Iroh with a stern expression. "I would rather die before hurting Erroll in any way... but these... desires for the other," he leaned in, "will not go away," he whispered. "I... I don't know what to do."
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