there’s a lack of message alerts after that, and the reasonable part of him realizes that there’s no real reason to respond ( especially not with liz as the recipient ). the other part of him, the part that’s still REELING from being cut off so quickly and swiftly and carelessly is not as sure. ( did he say something wrong ? is he going to be waiting all night just for her to not show up ? get some one word cancellation notice two hours into waiting for her ? he doesn’t think she’d do that. at the same time —- )
he needs something to do to occupy himself and his thoughts, and so he strips out of his work clothes —- jeans and a button up and a cap still perched on his head —- for something more comfortable. ( because if he’s wearing a SUIT for her, he’s going to take advantage of as many sweatpants days as he possibly can, leading up to it. ) he’s departing the hallway as his door swings open, and he takes the bag from her with a small and mumbled greeting after settling his t-shirt all the way down onto his form.
their gazes find each other and almost as quickly as ben meets her eyes does he look away —- because despite the casual and any-other-time diction of her words, there’s something that he feels settle between his ribs at the sight of her. it’s what makes his face impassive, his action to remove the bag from her hand not quite gentle but not quite rough, either, it’s what makes that indifference more reserved for not-her slide across his body and into his stance. ( it’s a funny thing, how it doesn’t quite make it into his words. )
‘ cool. so. what party are you ditching ? ‘
-- ‘ a boring one. probably. ’
she won’t add more to a topic she feels (and wants) dead. because she lacks the details of caitlyn’s outline besides being a surprise party ; if thinking of a better retort, she could say ‘why don’t you go ask caitlyn yourself’ (but that may be too snappy at this climatic moment, which makes her keep a flat tone). going by the stereotypes of her new roommate these past few weeks, then iced sweet tea & turquoise decorations & gossip are most definitely included, alongside people elizabeth wouldn’t dare invite to any other event ; after all, she didn’t invite ben from the beginning, if caitlyn really cared for a genuine party & not some publicity stunt for the founding of this clique. how embarrassing, once the birthday girl won’t show up, nor (more importantly) the cake.
at first, she leaves her expression blank to decide how to respond to his series of actions. though it’s hard not to stare when he pulls his shirt, soaking in the few second preview of skin. and it’s hard not to gather his body language that’s closer to the earlier days when attempts at pushing away only pulled them into orbit. she guesses nerves, but puzzled at the reason (thus erasing emotion from her face, to hide this confusion). without thoughts to command her otherwise, her head tilts lightly as he snatches the bag from her. the proof of the two seconds between her decision to add color to her iced palate.
so she smiles. somewhere between that ‘drunk smile’ (as he has said to excuse her hint of affection) & her crooked grin that leads eyes to watch him as an experiment, similar to the earlier days. because if he’s giving her that combination, then she’s going to reflect it back. or is it her own nerves shining through when she doesn’t quite know how to handle the fluttering at her chest. otherwise, she genuinely finds how he’s avoiding eye contact amusing, & this feeling shifts the grin to that ‘drunk smile’ as she steps away from him & towards the kitchen. voice comes to life, too, humming the rhythm of those upbeat songs questioning why the heart takes off on a high speed chase. even if she thinks (or wants to think) this is an ego booster, risking further distance on his end for hopes of avoiding why did you ignore me? or take it with loose shoulders.
-- ‘ one week away & you’re ALREADY FLUSTERED seeing me. ’