Rey felt lost in all of this mess, and wanted, more than anything, for the man to just look at her and smile, just a little, just for an instant. Rey wanted to see it again, the hint of softness in his eyes. She wanted to be something that he could want, too. The desperation behind that truth hit her hard on Thursday morning, when she realized just how much power his presence had over her, just how much she wanted to please him. How Rey laid awake most nights, tracing the lines on her skin and wondering why things couldn’t be different. It made her angry, if anything. The lack of control burning deep in her veins and reminding her of a time Rey wished she couldn’t remember.
Maybe that was why she turned to her closet that morning and let her hand hover over another long-sleeved shirt before decidedly pulling out one of her favorite graphic-T’s instead. It was a soft, sea grass green with white daisies spread across the chest and the words “have a nice daisy” printed in scrawling script. It was a strategic choice in more ways than one. The low v-neck cut allowed for her collarbone to be on full display, revealing almost the entirety of her mark. The flower print only called further attention to the wildflowers sprouting from her skin. Rey had spent the last couple of days trying to cover up any evidence of him, trying to hide from reality, to deny fate, but today, she wanted to flaunt it, to scream it to the world. You can’t ignore me, Solo.
When Ben awoke to find Rey gone, his first reaction was panic, primal and all consuming. As he raced around his house, and it quickly became apparent that she was gone, that she had left without a word to him, the panic turned to burning anger. He let out a frustrated snarl, feelings of hurt and betrayal coursing through his veins as he tugged at his hair, and stomped back upstairs to shower.
Walking back into his bedroom, he realized he should have showered downstairs. Rey’s scent was everywhere. Bergamot and lavender seemed to swirl thick in the air, a gentle reminder of the last several days. Bed sheets, pillows, and comforters were still piled behind his chair and his bed was a mess of tangled linens. Ben averted his eyes angrily and stalked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Beneath all the anger, beneath the hurt, Ben tried to ignore the small flicker of concern. He hoped she was alright. He knew a bit about Omegas, much more now about one in particular, and if what he had read contained even a modicum of truth, Rey was no better off than he was, just in a different way. Ben scrubbed his hair harshly, and tried to put the last several days behind him, but to no avail.
It was a couple of days before he was able to return to campus, and if the looks of fear from his students and even some of his colleagues were any indication, he probably should have taken a couple more leave days. However, his home was no longer bearable. No matter how many times he washed his bed linens or how hard he scrubbed the surfaces of his home, reminders of Rey seemed to linger, driving him crazy. He’d tried emailing her, calling her office, but he got nothing in response. His blood seemed to boil in anger as the days went on, and he knew he could no longer remain inside his home, his sanctuary, so he walked the mile and a half to campus. Thankfully, autumn’s wind had picked up and helped clear his troubled mind a bit. At least his students were probably in a good mood. They’d gotten to miss their weekly three hour session after all.
As usual, the students and other professors milling around the campus that morning ignored him as he made his way to his office in the history building. His neutral expression quickly turned into a scowl as he saw that his colleagues were trying to avoid his gaze until his back was to them as he walked down the hall to his office at the end. Then, he felt them all, all their eyes on his back, heard heads poking out of office doors just to get a glimpse of him. He wondered if it had spread around campus, how he hadn’t been able to control himself and his filthy Alpha hindbrain around the poor Omega librarian. Ben sat and stared at the wall behind his desk for a long moment after he slammed his door shut. Maybe he was just being paranoid. No one knew or cared enough about him to know that he’d been with Rey. After sighing disgustedly, he tugged his laptop out of his messenger bag and swallowed a feeling of dread as he opened his email and saw the triple digit next to his mail icon. He bowed his head and dove in, quick to notice none of them were from the person he wanted to hear from most.
His morning and afternoon spent answering emails was actually almost pleasant. He certainly felt like he’d accomplished something when the unread icon finally disappeared. Glancing at the small digital clock he kept on his desk, Ben saw it was nearly 4:30PM. Leaning back thoughtfully, he wondered if he’d be able to wheedle information out of Rey’s assistant. Perhaps she simply hadn’t returned to campus yet. Maybe Rey, like him, hadn’t checked her work email since she’d been out. As Ben gathered his things and began to head out, his chest felt a modicum lighter than it did when he came in. His feet seemed to have a mind of their own as he headed out of the quiet building. Dusk was slowly coming, soft twilight colors of lavender and pink and orange painting the sky and lingering clouds like Monet. The white limestone of the library seemed to absorb the colors, as if lit with an inner glow. Ben quickened his pace as the hands on his watch ticked closer to 5:00PM. While the library might be open all hours, the offices certainly weren’t.
He pushed through the revolving door quickly, nearly at a jog. He had his foot poised over the first step of the impressive black marble staircase that ringed the four story atrium, ready to take the stairs two at a time, but a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye stopped him. He turned to the main circulation desk and saw a familiar face. Rey’s assistant. He was pretty sure Rey called her Kay...something. He strode over, not bothering to hide the urgency in his step. The woman had been there. She had to be aware that something had happened between her boss and him. The twitch of her mouth into something almost like a smirk confirmed his suspicions, but she was quick. Her expression was once again passive and neutral as he approached the waist high desk.
“Good evening,” he intoned as pleasantly as he could.
The blonde tilted her head curiously. “Good evening, Professor Solo,” she replied, her voice slightly amused. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so, Miss…”
“Connix. Kaydel Connix.”
“Miss Connix. I need to speak with Miss Johnson. Is she available?”
Another amused twitch. “May I ask what you need to speak with her about?”
Ben tried to think of something professional. He clenched his jaw as he tried to recall something departmental that the library would be involved in. It came to him after a few agonizing seconds.
“The Hamner Lecture. I understand my department will be using the Tano Room for the upcoming talk, and I need to talk to Miss Johnson about some of the technical requirements.”
“The talk on the role of female spies on both sides of the Entruvia Conflict? The one in three days? The one you haven’t RSVP’d to, Professor Solo?” Kaydel’s tone could not hide her amusement.
Shit. “Yes, that one,” Ben mumbled, his tone one of embarrassment at having been caught in a lie.
Kaydel at least had the grace to regard him with something like sympathy rather than derision. “Miss Johnson only just returned and isn’t seeing anyone while she’s busy catching up,” Kaydel offered apologetically.
“I see. No exceptions?”
“No exceptions, Professor Solo. I’m sorry. Truly,” Kaydel murmured.
At a loss for words, Ben turned to leave, his legs feeling like they were filled with lead.
“Wait! Professor!” Kaydel called as he’d reached the middle of the pale marble floor, a sharp contrast to the black staircase.
Ben glanced over his shoulder and saw Kaydel gesturing frantically, looking quickly from left to right, as if checking to see that they were alone. He approached the desk again curiously, leaning in close so she could whisper. Kaydel slid something across the desk to him. Looking down, Ben saw it was a key.
“What is this?”
“Rey...Miss Johnson, I mean, she’s really needs…,” the young woman began hesitantly. “I know a little of how these things work. She needs you. At least to talk to her. And I’m guessing you have some things to say to her. She’ll be back around 9:00PM. Please tell me I’m doing the right thing, Professor,” Kaydel whispered urgently, looking up at him with beseeching eyes.
Ben held the key tightly in his fist. “You’re doing the right thing, Miss Connix.”
“Leave the key on the front desk when you leave.”
“I think I can manage that. Thank you, Kaydel.”
Kaydel turned and disappeared into the small room behind the circulation desk. Ben could see a few stacks and carts through the dimly lit doorway, slips of paper wafting in the draft Kaydel made as she moved to the back. He turned at last and went down a narrow hallway toward a set of stairs that led to the basement. The space was popular with students, as it was the only designated eating area in the building. The space was mostly occupied by tables and chairs in odd groupings, perfect for study groups, a few ancient vending machines that served questionable coffee and snacks, and colorless threadbare carpeting. Ben navigated past the few dark stacks of now outdated reference materials to the study carrels along the back wall. Nudging open the door for one, he set his bag carefully on the scarred table’s surface and flicked on the small lamp bolted to the wall. The bulb cast a surprisingly warm bright glow in the little space, and Ben quickly settled in for a few hours of silent work, his fingers flying rapidly over the laptop’s keys.
At promptly 9:00PM, Ben’s phone buzzed loudly on the table beside his hand. He’d already packed up his laptop and research papers. He piled the books he’d retrieved into a neat stack and left the carrel, quickly locating a reshelving cart and depositing the heavy load. The basement was deathly silent, a slight mildew smell permeating the recycled air. Rey’s office was only accessible from the main staircase, so Ben made his way back up to the atrium and began to slowly ascend the wide steps, mildew and stale air replaced with stone and the fresh smell of rain. He could just make out the pitter patter of heavy droplets against the glass ceiling high above. Raising his gaze, the sky above the glass was dark indigo, almost black through the abstract sculpture hung precariously from invisible wires. Intricately placed spotlights made the contraption of gold and silver glitter and shine as it spun slowly in the air. Ben held tight to the handrail as he stared at the thing, unable to take his eyes off the spinning orbs and bars. It reminded him of some kind of old time science instrument, an astrolabe but in three dimensions.
As he continued to climb, his gaze was wrenched from the art piece at an office door a few steps ahead. Lavender. Bergamot. Faint, like the first time he’d scented her. Delicate wisps of her floating in the air. He approached the door quietly, almost timidly, turning the key in the lock as quietly as he could. She very well might call security and have him thrown out. He hoped not. He hoped Kaydel was right. He turned the knob, pushed the heavy door open quietly, and stepped in. He closed it softly behind him and turned to face the room. The sight that greeted him almost took his breath away.
Only one floor lamp was lit, warm light illuminating one corner of the room. Mood lighting, his dad and Uncle Lando would have called it with a chuckle. Rey was sitting at a desk, facing away from the door, her head bent almost reverently over something in front of her. Her hands were placed flat on either side of what she was looking at. Her ankles were crossed beneath her chair, one black ballet flat dangling off her heel. She wore another gauzy grey scarf around her neck, her warm chestnut hair twisted into a messy bun, held with a pencil of all things. A knit sweater hung loosely around her shoulders, a pale sage green skirt draping off the sides of the chair. As the door clicked shut behind him, Ben watched her shoulders straighten, her fingers curl into her palms. He heard her inhale deeply, and he knew she knew he was there.
When she turned in her seat to face him, Ben felt a strange tug in his heart. She was pale, her face weary from sleepless nights. Her eyes were red rimmed. Her lower lip trembled imperceptibly as she stared at him across the room.
“Ben,” she whispered.
He was at her side in an instant, holding her to the point between his chest and abdomen as best he could with her still seated. Rey clutched at his shirt, breathing deeply. Unhappy that he couldn’t cradle her head like he wanted, Ben pulled the pencil from her hair, her tresses falling around her shoulders haphazardly. When her breathing calmed, Ben released her and pulled up a nearby chair, sitting himself as close to her as possible. Rey’s fingers were twisting nervously in her lap, and she couldn’t seem to look at him. Ben pried one of her hands from the other and held it in both of his, running his thumbs over her knuckles.
“Rey, look at me,” he commanded softly. She slowly turned her hazel eyes to his, and Ben felt the tension in his chest ease a little. There was no anger there.
“What happened, Rey?” he asked softly.
“I...I got...scared.” It took her maybe five minutes to get out those four words, but Ben could wait.
“I said so many things. I felt...so much. I’m not used to that,” she finished quietly.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Rey’s lips parted in surprise, and she brought her free hand to his cheek, her fingers softly caressing. She shook her head and added for emphasis, “No, Ben!”
After a moment, she continued, her thoughts unfiltered, halting, but true. “I’m just so used to being alone. Of wanting to be alone. Or at least, I thought I wanted to. I don’t like depending on other people, being so vulnerable, but it just happened. I couldn’t control it. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
Ben paused a moment before he said anything, trying to see the picture she was trying to paint him. He understood, in a way, the terror of opening yourself up to someone. Of intimacy. “Do you think you were the only one terrified by what you felt or by what you said? I have never in my life said the things I said to you to another person. Much less felt the way I did. The way I do,” he finished softly, almost in a whisper, as if he was afraid speaking the words out loud, giving them life, would somehow curse it.
His breath caught in his throat as Rey leaned towards him, her scent invading his nose. She pressed her lips softly to his, lingering for only a moment before she began to pull away.
“No,” Ben croaked before he pulled her back to him, holding her tightly as he sought her mouth again.
Rey took Ben’s advice. The next day she began a new routine. She woke early to have breakfast in the main house with Maz. Usually at that time they were the only two awake. Then she’d work through lunch in the hangar.
The golf cart still needed a tune-up and the mower was nowhere near functional. After a quick bite, Rey went back out, but she didn’t stop at the hangar, she kept going all the way to the forest, to where Luke lived.
Every day it was the same. She’d knock on the door, ask him to speak to her, and he’d vehemently refuse.
Every day he rejected her.
Every day Rey stomped back up the hill.
Every day she had dinner up at the big house with the rest of the ranch inhabitants.
And every day Ben walked her back to the hangar after dinner.
“We were exploring the Tate Modern and gathering inspiration for our 20th Century A-Level Compositions when we met the wonderful Benedict Cumberbatch on the 10th floor viewing platform! Thank you for the photo!”
~ Mrsjadecurtiss
@mrsjadecurtiss OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU KEPT THE WONKY GLASSES!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!! *TACKLE HUGS*
@jynnicsanctuary LOOK HOW AWESOME THIS IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
