BENJY.
“As hard as you try to make me, Mars, I could never hate you.” His tone was light and musical with his gentle, easy laugh and as B finally tore his eyes from her to gaze back over the overbearing darkness of the lake, he reached for the goblet to take another drink. It was most likely just how things had worked out, but in his nowhere near sober sate, B was slowly convincing himself that somehow, some way, he had summoned Marlene here; his thoughts calling to her through the night, leading her through the grass and all the way to him. He was a wizard, of course, magic, just like everyone else in this school, but this, the heart, was a different sort of sorcery. Did this prove something? Was she still connected to him in ways she would never admit?
While they sat there, the silence lingering on between them, stretching them further and further away from each other all over again, giving Benjy flash backs of the class room and their reflection in the glass, the wizard lent back, putting his hands down on the grass behind him as he did so. At first, he had missed it, the touch so soft, the way his little finger now pressed against her own, and as Benjy turned his head, his eyes looking over their hands, the wizard failed to understand. There was no current, no electricity pulsing through his body, his hair didn’t stand on end nor did his heart begin to race; he felt, almost nothing. There was no intensity left. Snatching his hand back as if he had been burnt, B sank his teeth, hard, into his lower lip, his thoughts racing.
Not wanting to admit that Marlene was slipping through his fingers all over again, and not ready to let go of all that they had had, Benjy lent towards Marlene, knocking over the goblet he had set back down on the grass, its contents spilling and soaking into his pants. There was nothing romantic or sweet about the way B cupped her cheek in his hand and turned her face towards his, and he barely looked into her eyes before his lips came down against hers. Although his memory hadn’t lied about how soft her lips were and how they felt against his own, she tasted like a vomit, and only Merlin knew what else. Closing his eyes, Benjy lent into her more, his hand slipping to the back of her neck, his fingers curled into her hair as he prayed he wouldn’t get slapped for this.
It was blasphemy to pretend there was love where there was nothing but barrenness. She had fallen for this trick before; even now, she could vividly recall the warmth in Benjy’s eyes that disarmed every stubborn bone in her body. She had not forgiven him for twisting the knife beneath her ribcage yet she was weak for him all the same. When he suddenly pressed his lips against hers, she was frozen.
This was far better than what she had imagined yet simultaneously far worse than what she had imagined. It unsettled her, to be held and kissed despite how deeply she had turned against everything that made her worth loving. The slick taste of vomit and booze still clung to her back molars, but the taste of him cut through and swallowed her whole. She had never kissed anyone the way she kissed Benjy, like she was stranded in the desert and he was her oasis of sparkling blue water.
Finally, she pulled away and searched his eyes, for some indication that this was real, that it wasn’t a just-to-be-sure kiss but the gnawing feeling beneath her ribcage suggested it was. How could you do this to me when you know I love you? she wanted to ask. “This isn’t— I can’t— I need to go.” She was drowning, so deep underwater that her own words were muffled and hollow. The oasis was nothing but a mirage and now she was choking, sand trapped in her lungs and embedding itself beneath her skin. She didn’t realize her hands were trembling until she was pulling away from him, vision cloudy, and a vicious ache in her chest. She scrambled to her feet, bruised lips parted to say more, but she stopped herself with an abrupt turn of her heels and a rapid descent into the forest.
The tears were streaming down her face now, a misty filter on her vision and when she looked down: a black hole in the centre of her chest. Through her hazy gaze, she turned around — only briefly — and she could have sworn she saw him sitting there with something very red, very alive, very throbbing on a plate in front of him; and all he could do was delicately take his knife and slice down the middle of her heart.
END.