((a/n: hello hello hello, hopefully I’m not late to the party right now. LOL. Anywhos, I had a jampacked few days lately and well I just managed to finish this now. My arms feel like jelly from all this typing but anyway, hopefully you guys would like this. As always I’d like to thank the wonderful people who RPed with me for this challenge @opheliagardinier and @benjaminschreave and also YALL there’s supposed to be another fic in between my challenges but again, I was just kinda too busy with personal stuff to write both things on time. The fic shall come soon I hope. also shout out to everyone for writing bomb ass fics!!! THEY WERE SO GOOD AND IT MADE ME NERVOUS WITH MINE LOOOOOOL. Anyway that’s it for now. Hope you guys like it and again a warning for swearing cause lol, what would you expect from Viv?))
Confession time and here’s what I got, I was really getting tired from all this standing during this ball. Guess you could say that I couldn’t really stand here anymore. There were a few tables and all but most of the ballroom was basically full of those cocktail tables that left most of us standing. Thankfully the ball was soon dying down, or at least I think it was going to after the toast the king and queen were about to give so I was willing to stay a little longer before crashing in my room and giving my feet sweet relief from the shoes I was wearing.
I was pretty stuffed after eating some cake with Fee, but somehow I guessed that I still had a little room for drinks when she handed me the flute of champagne from a passing waiter.
“More alcohol, excellent.” she smiles as I accept the glass and press it to my lips as I return her amusement.
“You know I’m starting to like balls even more now.”
Fee somehow snorts at the comment, and I choose not to react to the probably poor taste in words for the sake that I was not too excited to really start an argument.
“You and me both, Viv.” I watch as she takes a sip from her glass, and knowing that she was the alcohol expert between us, her comment and the way she held the glass close to her was interesting to say the least. “Hm, interesting choice.”
I follow suit, taking a sip from the champagne to see why Fee would react in such a way to the drink, noting the bitter after taste that the champagne leaves on my tongue. “Why?”
“Tastes like the regular shit rich people drink at these kinds of stuff.” From everything I’ve ever tasted here in this palace, most of the drinks I’ve tasted have always left a similar aftertaste, most alcohol tasted like shit anyway.
The wine connoisseur leans a little towards me and says with a shrug, “Honestly, I would have expected something a bit better.”
“Right.” I take another sip and feel my stomach do a flip, and I’m not talking the good kind when you see your crush with a new hair cut. It must be because the champagne was a more concentrated unit of alcohol but I wanted some confirmation from the expert herself. “Say, would you think this drink has a pretty high alcohol concentration?”
She shakes her head in reply, “No, maybe 12%.”. Fee glances over to me as she adds, “Hey are you okay?”
That’s when the screams start. I couldn’t tell much since it was as if there was a sudden block on my senses. The nausea hits me again and I place my hand on Fee’s shoulder to try and steady myself.
I glance over to Fee looking around in confusion and can only watch as she throws her glass of champagne at someone with a gun. Holy fucking shit, wasn’t that a waiter? I only watch as the glass crashes against him, spilling champagne of him as it was soon followed by the sound of a gun discharging.
I instinctively yell over the gunfire. “What did you do that for?” Oh god, what even gave Fee the idea that a fucking champagne glass was going to stop a gun. Who the fuck did she think she was? Chuck Norris in a fucking ball gown? Amidst the adrenaline that was starting to seep into my system, I keel over again.
All I wanted to do was close my eyes and cover my ears, not even sure what had happened with the glass I was drinking. I’m pretty sure it was lost among the sound of the dozen other things crashing to the ground and the smell of gun fire around us. I wanted to curl up and get away from this place, but I keel over again as the sensation of my stomach doing one of those weird flips does it again, and suddenly my chest was getting heavy. I couldn’t breathe, this all felt so wrong. The sound everytime a gun discharged made me jump, at the expense of feeling my limbs get heavier and heavier. Maybe if I just closed my eyes I’ll be fine. This just could be my reaction to all of this. I needed to get a grip of myself.
I feel Fee lean in close to me, her weight only making my bones feel even more like lead than ever. She coughs and I open my eyes and look up and see the red blooming out of Fee’s chest. This was a gunshot wound. Oh fucking hell, I knew this bitch was going to end up getting shot. I scramble for an answer in my mind, to try and remember what first aid measures that were possible if one had gotten shot.
I’m trying to think, I’m thinking, I’m thinking and thinking. But my mind was becoming duller and duller. What I do remember though that the leading cause of death after gun shot wounds is blood lost and I do my best to try and stop the blood flowing out of her shoulder. I use most of my strength to move my hand and press it against the wound. There could be better things to stop it. A cloth, a dress. Thinking. I must think. I must breathe, but I can’t breathe. I could- the nausea hits me again.
“Don’t freak out but we need to get out of here and get you some-” I let out another labored breath before I suddenly feel my legs give out from under me, and try to catch myself before falling fully to the ground. I was not feeling so good, I didn’t want to let whatever was overtaking my bodily functions overpower me. An emergency. This was my emergency. I couldn’t. I can’t. There were probably more people like Fee who needed the medical attention. “Go… find… help…” I manage out as I try to collect myself but the waves hit me more and more and I can’t seem to find anymore strength to hold myself up. Everything hurt, my mind was a blur, and I couldn’t breathe. It feels like I was dying and I might as well have been.
From the corner of my eye, I see Fee in a fruitless effort kneeling down next to me before she falls forward and lets out a cry of pain.
Inutil. I am nothing but useless now. This was not happening, but it is. I don’t know what feels worse now. This
feeling of everything hurting all at once now. I gasp and clutch my chest as I spare everything going around me one last look. Fee’s bloody shoulder, the glass and the other people on the ground. The screaming, the guns, and the royal family nowhere in my line of sight.
This was it. This madness could be the last thing I see. It is a disappointment.
I can only feel the last wave of nausea before I let myself fall,
and fall,
and fall.
I kept on falling. A part of me knew that I wasn’t dead, because if I was I’d probably be seeing a white light or feeling the flames lick my feet in hell. (I mean, it was only a matter of time until I did get there.) In fact, I only felt this heavy emptiness in my chest that seemed to contrast the oddly weightless feeling of all this. Everything was dark around me as I continued to fall. There were voices I could make out, or at least those were real voices and not ones in my head- but their words were all jumbled and I was left disoriented as ever. I wait for this all to soon end- and I hope to hit the bottom soon. If there was a bottom.
It was hours of falling until I feel impact of hitting the ground and I seem to open my eyes and gasp. It was bright, so bright but all I couldn’t make out anything else other than the light. Two thoughts immediately come into mind. Oh god, was I really dead- and holy shit, did I actually make it to heaven?
I blink once, blink twice, blink thrice and my vision seems to get a grip of itself. The smell of this place is familiar, and I think to myself… heaven definitely shouldn’t smell like antiseptic. I close my eyes again, try to steady my breath despite feeling like mercury filled my lungs. I bring my hands in front of me and I feel my right hand heavier as I feel like it’s tugging something. An IV.
There was an IV in my hand and I follow the line to see a bag of dextrose hanging over my head. Holy shit, I wasn’t dead. I try to look around again with my eyes finally adjusted to the light, I realize where I am. Of course I’d know what this is, I’ve been in one so many times before. I choke back the feeling that made me sick to my stomach. It was a hospital room. Fuck this shit, I was in a hospital room- and I have no idea why. I push myself up from my bed a I try to find the button that could call a nurse on duty as I try to put together pieces of my memory back together.
The smell of gunfire, the sickly sticky feeling of blood on my palm, the shattering of glass, a bitter taste on my tongue.
I try to remember, but everything I see comes only in bits- and it only takes bits for me to feel a sense of dread that makes me want to scream. As if the universe didn’t want to hear me freak out, a nurse comes in and rushes to me. Immediately, she places her hands on my shoulders to calm me down before I can do anything. Her tone is calm, her eyes are tired- I can tell she’s had a rough time lately. I try to process her words as she sets me back down on my bed as if she’s said her speech a dozen times already- maybe she has. She tells me everything I needed to know, and I hang on to every key detail I needed to know.
Last Night. Attack during the ball. Guns turned on the guest. More than a dozen people dead. None of the Selected died. Poison in the drinks. The drinks. Poison. The thought makes me feel sick to my stomach again.
“We found you in time to pump your stomach and administer the antidote before the poison worked its full effect.”
Her voice sounds cautious as she tells me that. I didn’t even ask what the poison’s full effect was. The look on her face said it all.
The explanation doesn’t make me feel anymore comfortable, but it has helped calm my nerves down enough for the nurse to trust me to be alone before she shortly leaves my room and comes back with a tray of food before a pager seems to beep from her pocket. Just as quickly as she explained everything to me and brought me my food, she seems to rush out before she mentions that the prince had visited me earlier while I was asleep. One weight seems to lift off my chest at that news. At least Ben was okay, at least I know he had managed to become 21 years and 1 day old.
One small relief. Another 99 more worries to tackle later. Another problem has to do with the rumbling of my stomach and I uncover my food to find a bowl of porridge.
I sigh. What was I expecting? You don’t exactly serve someone who just got poisoned and got their stomach pumped a michelin-star worthy dish. I pick up my spoon, contented with what was in front of me and try to get some food in me.
Eating was going to be harder than I thought. At the first spoonful of porridge, my mind seems to play a trick on me and imagine the same bitter taste of the champagne I had drank last night.
The thought makes me want to vomit again as I pick up the cover of the tray and end up spitting out the porridge and feel the non-existent food in my stomach try to climb up my throat again. I shut my eyes and start to feel myself tear up as a similar nauseous feeling returns.
I take a few breaths and try to calm myself down. The food’s not poisoned. There is no poison in this food. You will not black out again.
This happens several times over and over again, all with the same results. At the taste of food, the bitter taste on my tongue returns. I spit it out, and the nauseous pit in my stomach grows even more dizzying. Come on. Food. It’s just food.
It happens even more, with more attempts to tell myself that I could do it- but I can’t seem to convince myself that the porridge has the same bitter taste as the champagne does. My body seems convinced that it wants to reject whatever food I try to take in. I wanted to cry. I hated this, I’ve never felt any hungrier, I’ve never felt anymore pitiful than this moment, but I was tired too. I push the tray and table away from me as I settle with grabbing the glass of water set beside my table.
The first sip was just as bad as the first spoonful of porridge, but after feeling so nauseous these past few minutes- I’ve seemed to at least gotten used to it and managed to drink a glass. Hopefully a glass would get me by as I allowed myself to lay back down and close my eyes. Sleep could distract me from how hungry and nauseous I felt at the same time.
I should have stayed awake instead.
Unlike the last time I was unconscious, my new knowledge of the attack seems to only create a nightmarish version of the events that had happened last night, or rather my own last night.
Everything is the same at first, I’m in the same red dress, I’m with the same people- I bring Ben his surprise happy meal. But when everyone is preparing for the toast, the madness I remember so easily returns. It begins with a glass crashing to the ground as a bullet flies to the king on stage, the monarch instantly falling down before everyone starts to panic as bodies drop one by one. In this version, I only feel worse with the knowledge of my ingestion of poison but instead of collapsing- I am frozen instead. My muscles tense all at once as I watch everyone around me either collapse from the poisoned drinks or fall victim to the flurry of bullets flying from the guns of people that looked like the waiter last night. I see everyone I knew from the palace run in terror, pushing past each other in their panic.
While I’m still standing beside Fee as I watch her shoulder get shot and see her fall to ground with no one to support her. She calls out my name to help her, but I was powerless, my muscles frozen as I watched in my own terror more injuries. I wanted to grab her and drag her out of here, or at least use anything to stop the bleeding. I take my eyes away from her, not willing to see someone I personally knew bleed out. The poison doesn’t seem to take away my voice, and my voice joins the many yelling for help. There’s yelling, so much yelling that it makes my head hurt as I try to search through my meager line of sight. I look for Ben, and for a second, I can imagine hearing his voice, his usually calm voice yell out something before he seems to be cut off.
I can’t even turn around to see what happens to him before I feel the sharpest of pain in my abdomen, and my body feels heavier on one shoulder- as if a weight was on it and I’m suddenly falling again, only this time I quickly hit the ground.
For the second time, I gasp awake with my throat dry at what I had just saw. I try to tell myself that I was fine, the things I saw in that dream weren’t real- but the world feels topsy turvy and the room suddenly smells like roses. I blink a few times to make sure I was out of that dream- only to feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see Ben standing by my bedside- his features a little blurry in my vision as I try to greet him.
“Hey Ben.” I lift one hand up to place my hand over his. Yeap, he was real.
He seems to greet me with a frown as takes a seat on the edge of my bed. “Hey. Bad dreams?”
I try to push myself up from my bed to sit up. Bad dream was an understatement, I thought as I push some hair out of my face- feeling that I had broken a cold sweat while dreaming. I try to shake the unease off. It was just a dream.
“No, I was just… resting my eyes.” I try to be as funny as I tried to make myself be, maybe it would help convince me that everything was alright again.
“Apparently, whatever they're giving me includes a pretty heavy sedative.” I add as I lift up my hand with the IV on it and blink again- my vision finally clearing up for me to really see Ben’s face and I feel something in my chest drop at the sight of a huge bruise on his cheek, and I reach over to tilt his chin to see a few more blooming on his jaw and smaller ones on his face. My brows furrow, “What happened to you?”
“I got bruised.” He attempts to add a teasing tone to his voice and smile, but all I could catch was how dead tired he was.
“Yes Ben, I can obviously see the bruising.” I avoid making a poorly thought out bruised Benana joke as I push his face away and roll my eyes at him trying to be cheeky at a time like this. “I didn’t see what had happened to you last night. Are you okay?”
Ben nods once with a simple, “Better shape than you all.” before he presses his lips together and he seems to give me a closer look. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“Don't give it too much thought.” I try to shrug it off. Everything heals eventually. Heart attacks, kidney failures, even poison. Despite how heavy my body feels, I try to push myself to act less weak than I felt. Perhaps that would convince me that I was better and not poisoned. I am healthy. I am healthy. Mhmmm, yes, that’s the spirit. “Probably is the most action I’ll ever see happening during a ball.”
I’m so good at being positive. Wow. I’m positive that was the worst comeback ever. The guy’s birthday was ruined by a goddamn attack and people died- and you’re here mentally complaining about being slipped poison into your champagne. Stop making this about yourself, for christ’s sake.
“Sorry to hear that this happened to you.” I sigh at the thought, as I try to sympathize with what he could have possibly experienced. I wish those bruises on his face could tell me the story of what happened to him.
Ben sighs too, “You shouldn’t... What happened to isn’t minor. Not that I want to see you upset, but it’s okay to admit you are. Especially to me.”
I blink as I try to mull over his words. They were the words I wanted to tell him too. “What about you?” Sitting up was tiring as ever so I leaned back against my bed, but manage to find his hand as I continue. “If I tell you how I really feel, will you stop putting on this put together shtick and tell me how you really feel?”
He seems to pause before he starts to nod slowly.
“An eye for an eye.” a small tired chuckle escapes him, and I’d frown too if his laughter weren’t that infectious.
A chuckle escapes me too at his humor before I try to sober my expression and ready myself to tell him how I felt.
“I've never felt worst in my life.” I curl my lips in before continuing that thought. Sharing your feelings sucked. “I don't like being on this side of the hospital bed, Ben, and I hate how I wasn't able to help out when there was an opportunity for me to help out during an emergency.” I huff out a breath, feeling most of the things I worried about earlier come crashing down on me.
There’s a moment of silence as I watch him, his eyes somehow analyzing what I had said. Then I feel his hand take my own and squeezing it once he says with a hesitant expression, “Can I help you move side?”
I can’t help but let out a small laugh at his offer, shaking my head as I try to explain what I truly meant by that.
“I meant I don't like being the person in the hospital bed. I was typically the one sitting on the bedside waiting for my dad to get better.” It wasn’t too long ago I was sitting on the edge of my father’s bed as I tried to nurse him back to health after his last accident. The memory pulls the corners of my mouth down before I add, “ I always made sure I was in tip top shape and avoid being in this particular position.”
It was true. I have never been admitted to the hospital in my life. There goes my perfect health record.
“This particular time couldn’t be helped, though. Don’t... don’t feel bad for something that was out of your control.”
It’s my turn to consider his advice. “I'm trying not to. The keyword is trying.” I pout at the thought as I swipe my thumb over the back of his hand, and allowing myself to glance at our hands momentarily. I knew how I felt, or at least I guessed I did- but Ben as always was this little mystery I try to figure out everytime something happens to him. All I know is that at a time like this, it was best to just try to comfort a person. That what I needed on the early days after the accident.
“Neither should you. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your stress levels at the moment?”
“12.” Ben answers without even taking a second to think about it before it left his mouth, but now he winces as he adds. “That sounds bad.”
My eyebrows shoot up at the lack of hesitation with his answer, but I shake my head at the out of scale number.
“Bad, but definitely understandable. You of all people would be pretty stressed about what happened.”
He runs his hand over his face as sighs again with a nod. “More than you know.”
“Do you want me to know? Or are you going to just try and bear it all without telling people about it?” I ask him, though I’m more than curious of what was going on in his head. A part of me needed to know more about Ben, somehow to connect to him and make sure that I wasn’t the only one who experienced problems.
“You sure you want to be burdened with my many problems?” He makes an attempt to smile at me again, and I lean forward closer to him and shrug my shoulders.
“I’ve got tons of them, what’s a few more?” I smirk back at him.
He seems to take my smirk as a go signal as he start to explain things.
“I guess... I don’t know where to start. Making sure you’re all okay, dealing with this politically, publically, figuring who exactly did this and why, the future of the Selection.” The thought of the future of this Selection makes my throat even drier than it is- but I let the thought go as I watch his shoulder slump a little but a corner of his mouth tilt up. “Apparently, I do know where to start. And the list only goes on.”
I reach over to put my hand on his shoulder, “See? Was that so hard?” I shake my head a little as I continued. “It's good that it seems you've got your priorities straight but I think you're missing something.”
“I just-well I don’t want any of you worrying about what you don’t have to. Not after all this.” He explains and briefly pauses before he tilts his head. “Missing what?”
“You know fully well that us, girls especially, worry about everything.” I joke with a smirk before I answer his question. “And what you're missing is one really important detail: Checking if you are okay.” I poke his chest with my free hand. “When was the last time you gave yourself a break?”
“Uh, Gabby made me take a nap this afternoon if that counts. Still need to check on a couple more girls before I head to an actual bed.” He retaliates by poking my arm back as I bobble my head in consideration with the nap.
“Okay the nap counts, but be careful- your eye bags are looking pretty heavy right now.” I reach over to swipe my thumb under his eye for the effect. “Looks like you’re in need of some beauty sleep, stud.”
“My studness lacking today?”
“A lot, but maybe it’s because you’re older now.” I snort out a small laugh. “Poor you not aging gracefully. The potency of your studness wearing off.”
He scoffs a laugh, “And the only way to regain it is with beauty sleep right? Return to my youthful radiance?”
“Mhmmm, that seems to be the only cure for the way you're aging. Oh wait,” I point to his hair jokingly, “Is that a gray hair I spot?”
His eyes narrow, his eyes playfully glaring at me. “A trick of the light. My hair is thick, and brown, and grayless.”
“Are you sure?” I lift an eyebrow in return as I reach over to run a hand through his hair and immediately find a silver strand in his hair. “AHA! I found a gray strand.” I smirk at him. “So much for your thick, brown, and grayless hair, stud.”
He maintains his glare, “Liar liar pants on fire.”
“Don’t believe me? Fine.” I reach over again to pluck the gray strand I had seen earlier, a small ow coming from Ben before I show it to him. “Proof of my utmost honesty, your highness.”
Ben blinks at the strand I hold before him a few times before his eyes widen, “Oh my God.”
A loud laugh escapes me, “I’m not a liar, Ben. I’m a complete…” Shit. What’s the opposite of liar? “truther.”
Fuck that was not a real word.
He laughs loudly at my use of such an amazing word. “I’m in the presence of a true scholar.”
I scrunch up my nose as the words leave my mouth without a second thought, “I feel like whatever was in that drink has decreased my brain function a little.”
I had the poor taste to even laugh at that joke before Ben’s face falls flat.
“That’s not funny.” He admonishes me and I feel my stomach twist at that look on his face and a twinge of guilt at the stupid joke. It wasn’t really a good time to joke about getting poisoned, Viv.
“I know.” I sigh, “I shouldn’t have said that.”
I see him stare at me a little before his face goes into a grimace. “That… came out harsher than I meant. I’m sorry.” he says before he reaches for my hand again and squeezes it lightly. Leave it to him to apologize for berating me when I did something wrong.
I squeeze his hand back as I shake my head. Not the best joke, and this time I understood his point.
“No, I understand. I have to watch what comes out of my mouth now,” I click my tongue, “be a little more sensitive.”
Ben bobbles his head, “Usually yes. Especially now, and probably indefinitely.”
“Right, I'll be sure to put a filter on it.” I sigh again at the thought of having to really put a filter on my words, politeness was never my forte. “That’s gonna be a walk in the park.”
“Considering it’s been part of your lessons, it should technically be easy.” He manages out an amused smile.
“Easy. Sure, avoiding making side comments during lessons sure is easy.” I add a little sarcasm before I snort out a small laugh. “How does one avoid using sarcasm when they were born to be sarcastic?”
Suddenly, I feel Ben put both of his hands on the sides of my face, turning it to his direction and brings it close to his as he gives me this intensely serious look. “No Idea, But I believe in you.”
The lilt in his voice seems to betray his serious portrayal, making me realize he was only joking- but I wish you could tell my heart that. I suddenly feel my face flush at the sudden closeness between our faces- and my embarrassment only worsens when the heart monitor connected to me seems to be beeping uncontrollably as I try to manage a few words out.
“I’m trying okay?” I lean my forehead against his and move my free hand to rest it on the back of his neck. “Turns out that being nice to people isn’t that bad at all.”
Surprise, I’m not as bad a bitch as I thought I was.
Ben raises both his eyebrows, “Are you saying you’ve been nice to me? Because I don’t really remember that.”
“Then it seems like your memory is also getting affected by your aging, old man.” I joke.
“Or you never actually said it. My memory is superb.” he argues back.
I lean back and scrunch up my nose at him. “I think I’ve been nothing but the nicest person to you.” I chuckle at the thought.
Aside from my initial thoughts and expression to him at the beginning of this Selection- I think was a pretty decent human being towards him.
“Besides the happy meal and intelligence comment I can’t say you have.” he smirks at me knowingly and I glance to the side guiltily, because yeah… maybe those were the only stand out moments of my kindness but he should know all the things I held back from saying. That’s part of being nice, right?
“What? Would you want me to completely lose my prickliness? I thought you liked that characteristic.”
“Oh I do, believe me. But it’s also nice to hear how much you like my hair every once in a while.” He grins at me and I roll my eyes before indulging him with a smile and reach over to run my hand through his luscious locks.
“I think you have the loveliest almost-grayless chocolate brown hair.” I say before I give him a flat look, hoping he’s satisfied by the compliment.
An eye-crinkling smile appears on his face, “Aw, you think so? How nice of you to say so out of the blue.”
“You know what us nice people do, we just love to compliment people spontaneously.” I say non-chalantly before I smirk. “Particularly for studs like you.”
“Mmm, what else you got?”
I scoff at him trying to push me even more, but it only fuels me to use my most patronizing tone.
“You put the sun to shame whenever you smile, and” I pause before dramatically speaking as I glide my hand up his jaw, “Oh-my-god, This could just cut.”
I notice his smile, it was softer than usual as he replies, “So I’ve been told. That and my cheekbones.”
“Hmmm,” I reach up to poke his cheekbones and I jokingly flinch at little. “Ow! It’s most definitely sharp.” I grin one last time before I pull my hand away from him , musing at the one thing I realized I liked about him.
“I like your hands.” I blurt out and that sounded way too sincere to sound like my last few jokes, but I roll my eyes and throw whatever sense of dignity I had as I continued my thought. “They’re always warm when I hold them.”
His hands immediately take both of mine, his thumbs brushing across the back of them. “I run very hot, I’m a walking furnace.”
I resist the urge to snort before I look down at both of our hands, I was right- he had warm hands. “Mhmmm, because you’re just so hot.” I look back up at him with a smirk, picking up where I left off with my jokes. “The hottest prince around.”
Well, unless you count Prince Zuko from Avatar, but he wasn’t real.
Ben lets out a short laugh, “You flirt like you were born to do it.”
“Oh you know it's part of my charms- definitely a full proof tactic in winning you over.” I tilt my head a little with a smirk.
“And you’re so sure winning me over is working out?” He asks, and something hits me again.
It’s that small pang of jealousy and insecurity you feel whenever you’re being compared to another person, only this time, it was me comparing myself again to all the other girls who remained in the Selection.
“I can only really do so much.” I lift a shoulder, “You tell me.” I briefly answer before letting out a laugh. For now, I wasn’t quite sure I could compare to the remaining girls.
He smiles at me as his hands squeeze mine again, “I’d say so.”
I return his smile as I brush my thumb on the back of one of his hands, “Keep doing what I’m doing then?”
“Times ten. Plus the compliments.” He gives me a cheeky grin. “Please.”
I bobble my head as I go along and mimic his cheeky tone, “If you insist, stud. Flirting, unli-compliments, trying to be nice... all of those are duly noted.”
“I’ll be sure to remind you in case you forget.” He says before he leans in and quickly gives me a kiss, a smile forming on my lips as I instinctively put a hand on the side of his face before I lean back.
“Busy day today?”
“Enormously. I don’t see it becoming less busy any time soon either.” A small sigh escapes him, and I start to feel his own tiredness. I feel a frown curl on my lips before I find his hand and give it a squeeze.
“A wise old man once said this to me ... five minutes ago... “ I pause before I echo his words back to him, only this time in a more sincere way. “But I believe in you, you can get through all of this.”
A soft smile appears on his face. “Let’s hope its that easy, Sparrow.”
“Come on, you can be a little more positive than that.” I tilt my head and give him an encouraging soft smile. I’ve never heard him be like that before.
He shrugs, “I can. But for a moment it’s easier to be realistic than positive.”
My brows knit together at his shrug, and it’s odd to see him sound this way before. I know the past few days have been rough for him, but I didn’t want his spirit to break any time soon. Having gone through day like his before, I somehow muster up the words I wish someone told me years ago.
“Life is tough, I think the two of us are very familiar with that fact.” I then bring my hands to hold both sides of his face as I look at him intensely, trying to convey every word sincerely “You're tougher, though. This, like every struggle, will pass.”
Life is tough, but I’m tougher. Life is harsh, but I can be harsher. I wish I didn’t have to learn those things the hard way.
Ben only stares at me for a moment, his brows knitted before he nods slightly and quietly thanks me- his eyes not leaving mine just yet. I can only hold his gaze as we let the quiet sink in between us. I meant every word I said- and maybe I said those words out loud just to remind myself of that too.
I brush his cheek a little before I make a small remark.
“How’s that for a compliment huh?” I crack a small smile before I lean in and bring his face close to mine, kissing him softly. I felt like I needed this, this kind of contact with him right now and I’m pretty sure a bunch of other girls have attempted, have, or will kiss him today- honestly that’s their business, but for now, Ben was with me and goddamnit I wanted to kiss him. I had no idea why, or I’d rather not admit the reason why just yet. I can feel him smile as he kisses me back, his hand putting itself lightly on my waist as he leans closer to me, and a part of me hopes that he’s kissing me too for the exact same reason why I wanted to. I liked Ben. What a surprise, right?
I loosen my hold on his face and leave a hand to rest on his cheek before I moved the other to rest on his chest, maneuvering myself closer to him as I kissed him a little longer. I just had that one feeling in my chest that only got warmer when I did, and it felt like his hand holding mine- but better, somehow so much better. Even if I was in the hospital with an IV in one of my hands and I was in a gross hospital gown, this was better. The kiss stays this way a little longer, and I wish it did last longer when he leans back to rest his forehead against mine. I lean my forehead against his, keeping my eyes briefly closed as I calm the small lump I feel in my throat before opening them to look at him.
“Make sure that you’re okay too, Ben.”
He presses his lips together before he nods, “Alright.” he gives me a smile, and I try to be reassured that he would take care of himself.
I pull away from him slightly and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, careful to avoid his bruise. “You may want to do some warm compress if you want this,” I lightly tap the bruise on his cheek as I smile back at him, “to disappear soon.”
“Eh,” he leans back and stands from my bed. “Makes me look tough.” he says with a grin.
I can only smirk up at him before I lean back on my bed. “You’re already tough, I think I’ve made that very clear.”
Ben snickers before remarking, “Then the look stays.” I roll my eyes a little before he leans down and I feel him kiss the top of my head. “Sleep well.”
I turn to my side but continue to look up at him, “And you should take care of yourself. Don't make me get out of this bed just to hunt you down and make sure you've eaten.”
Wow, yeah Viv- you could definitely hunt people down for not eating. You’re totally not a hypocrite~
The corner of his mouth turns up as I watch him start walking to the door, “I’ll even set alarms just to indulge you.”
“How sweet of you, Ben.” I laugh, “I’ll see you later?”
He nods at me with a grin over his shoulder as he opens the door to my room. “Be on the look out for a slightly less tough prince.”
Again, my mouth runs faster than my brain.
“Oh, so I’m gonna be seeing Wyatt around then?” I lift an eyebrow as I grin back teasingly at him, hoping he doesn’t take any offense that I maaaay have slightly insulted his brother.
“Kidding, I don't actually know your brother.” I try to save myself before snorting out a laugh. “Bye Ben.”
Ben seems to get my humor as a loud short laugh escapes him. “I’m telling him you said that.”
And like that he gives me one last grin before disappearing behind the closed door of my room and I close my eyes, momentarily forgetting everything just for a while. All of that talking and interacting with Ben was more tiring than I thought. It was worth it though, but there were things that still unsettled me from last night. I still felt as useless as the moments I was keeling over with nausea in the ballroom. I suppose there were some things I’d have to do to make up for it.
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