#heir squared

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mallum ben arm wrestle now

> Results... Inconclusive.

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You guys know hurt with no comfort isn’t my style. I couldn’t post that drabble without a follow-up to remind us all that Ben is safe now

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Zurven...Veylin....think you and Benjin might end up in a quad, Mallum?

"Well I'm irresistible, as we all know, but... I'm afraid I'm just too far out of Ben's league. It's sad for him, really. I can only imagine how devastated–"

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The Thrilling Conclusion

With Zurven and Veylin out running errands together, Mallum was expecting to have the hive to himself for a while. 

When he turns into the living room to instead find Benjin in his spot on the couch, he barely tries to conceal the disgruntled hum that rises from his throat.

The purpleblood glances over his shoulder and raises two fingers in greeting. 

“Hey.”

“I thought you had class,” Mallum replies, throwing himself into the armchair instead.

“Cancelled. Professor’s out sick,” Ben shrugs, returning his gaze to the laptop in front of him.

A beat passes in silence, Mallum more bothered by the quiet than his counterpart. Finally, he sighs.

“I think… We should talk about this. About where we stand.”

Benjin cocks his head, though his eyes remain fixed on the screen.

“Is this… gonna be awkward for you?” Mallum starts, hoping to approach the question carefully. “I mean, me being with them?”

“I just kinda figured we were already dating,” he shrugs. “Y’know, by association.”

“What.”

“Did you not want to?”

Mallum stammers for a moment. “No— You— I mean, yes, I’d like that, just…” He gapes at him, brow furrowed. “You are so fucking stupid.”

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I love my Mallum dreams they are so funny

If there's one thing my subconscious knows. It's that Mallum's a bitch

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Why slugs, Ben?

> His only good parental figure happens to be one!

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Ben, how's the new roommate so far?

"He got so comfortable. So fast."

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Apologies

“I should text Kat.”

You furrow your brow, prying your eyes away from the photos you’ve been editing on your laptop to look at Mallum on the couch. “Come again?”

“My matesprit? I just feel like–”

“Your ex-matesprit. You’re asking me if you should text your ex.” You fix him with a deadpan stare, which earns you an indignant huff in response.

“I didn’t ask if I should, I said I should.” He glances at the phone in his hand and frowns. “I just… I didn’t let her go peacefully. She… Deserves an apology.”

Though he sounds uncertain, there’s a determination behind Mallum’s eyes. He is genuinely dead set on doing this. You heft a weary sigh and shut your laptop, setting it on the coffee table as you drag one hand down your face.

“Okay. Can’t believe I have to say this, do not fucking text her.”

“Just an apology,” he repeats, as if that somehow makes it better. 

You take another deep breath and run a hand through your hair, tucking your head into your chest as you pause to gather your wits. “You think she wants that?”

Mallum screws his lips together. He almost looks confused, like he doesn’t know what’s possessed him to consider this in the first place. You lean forward on your knees, head propped on your hands.

“I mean, what, you think she wants to hear from the guy that consistently failed to leave her alone?” You don’t know all the details of Mallum’s old relationship, but you’ve gathered enough to understand the crux of it. “What’s that supposed to accomplish besides inserting yourself back into her life?”

He shifts in his seat, fins twitching as you speak. The silence hangs between you for a moment before he answers.

“It’d give her closure.”

“You’re giving yourself too much credit. She doesn’t wanna hear that you’re sorry, dude, she wants you to stay out of her life.”

Mallum’s eyes are still trained on his cellphone, your words apparently falling on deaf ears. You bounce your leg and tousle your hair again, chewing on air as you debate what to say. After a few seconds, you get up and move to sit on the couch beside him, pushing his hands into his lap.

“Listen, man. Speaking as someone who’s owed a lot of apologies they’re never going to get… There comes a point when you realize you’re better off without them.” In your peripheral, you see Mallum turn to look at you, puzzled.

To your surprise, he doesn’t say anything, simply waiting for you to continue. You scratch the back of your head and sigh once again. Are you really about to bare your soul to this guy?

“I’ve been… Hurt, you know? I mean, I’ve been hurt badly.” You swallow, finding your mouth has suddenly gone dry. “I’ve been through shit I can’t even bring myself to tell the others.”

Mallum doesn’t take his eyes off you. You squirm under his gaze, turning your shoulders and letting your hair hang down to block your view of him.

“Harlan may have told himself he wanted an heir, but I… I know what I was to him, man. I was a toy.” Despite your best efforts, a slight warble creeps into your voice. With one hand, you trace the scars on your palms, staring at your crooked pinky finger and blinking the mist from your eyes. 

That night feels so far away now. 

“I spent eight sweeps being tortured by them, Mallum. You saw me. You saw how broken they made me.” Even now, safe in your home, you find yourself fighting to stifle your tears. A Mahkir is not meant to cry.

“I did,” Mallum says quietly, voice laden with guilt.

“I don’t want an apology from them. I just want them gone.” Though there’s nothing to wipe away, you swipe the heel of your hand over your eyes. “And I hate to say this, man, but you are her Harlan.”

He stirs beside you, clearly uncomfortable.

“You lost the right to tell her you’re sorry when you treated every other apology like a part of your game. Whatever you want to say to her, it will do more harm than good.”

“Benjin?”

You finally turn your head back to him, locking eyes with a Mallum more sincere than you have ever seen him.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, eyes searching yours. “I know that wasn’t your point. But I am. You should hear it from someone.”

You wipe your face again and nod, unsure how to respond.

He looks at his phone and swallows. “I don’t… Trust myself with this.”

There’s a pained look on his face when Mallum turns his gaze back to you.

“I need to delete her contact.” He tilts the screen away from him, towards you. “Can you do it?”

Your eyes settle on his hands, polish pushed to the edges of his nails as they’ve grown from the cuticles. You stare for what feels like ages, and then, with a deep breath, you take the phone from him.