Status: active.
Harmonies
Twenty.
There was something about the way she didn't push him to talk about anything and how she'd so easily given up her apartment for him that made him feel even more terrible about the entire situation. The car ride was silent; it was the loud, deafening, overbearing silence that ate away at one's conscience.
"Bella, I want to explain," Benjamin started.
"Not now. I'm going to put Lennox in bed. Then we can go to my room to talk," she said, sharply. Her tone reminded him slightly of his mother.
When the car came to a halt in front of the apartment building, Benjamin cut the engine and hurried out of the car. He opened the door for the full-handed brunette and reached out to help her. She didn't accept his hand and managed to retrieve her bag from the backseat and get out of the car without waking Lennox.
Her home seemed smaller and more confined with Benjamin beside her. Her mind was consumed with thoughts about him and most of them had nothing to do with the fact that he had gotten into a fight earlier. He brushed against her arm as they entered the room and she could feel the sparks fly across her skin.
Once Lennox was lying safely in his crib, changed out of his good clothes, Arabella retreated to her bedroom closet. She didn't bother closing the door as she walked in and unzipped the dress. It fell to her feet in a pool of blue silk fabric. Exchanging the dress for a silk pair of shorts and a tank top, Arabella emerged from the closet and threw the dress in a hamper.
Benjamin watched her from her bed. He had perched himself on the edge while he waited for her. When she was sure the dress was in the basket and that her face was composed, she placed her dainty hands on her hips and spun around to face him. "Are you going to explain what the hell is wrong with you?" she asked in a harsh whisper.
In the light, the brunette noticed the bruises that spread across his face. The sight pained her but she remained resolute as she stood across from him.
"He said that you were probably so desperate for money that you would whore it out to him really easily," he mumbled. He kept his eyes locked on his folded hands. When the brunette said nothing, he glanced in her direction.
One small hand had moved from her hips to her forehead and she was massaging the tender pressure points at her temples. She bit her bottom lip and quickly brushed over it with her tongue before she spoke. "Don't get me wrong, that's the sweetest thing, in a backwards sort of way, that anyone's done for me."
"But?" the boy prompted.
"But, who was he hurting by saying that? Let people think what they want, Ben." Her voice was soft and melodic. He was looking at his hands again but when she came close enough he could see her feet in his line of sight. Her cold fingertips caressed his cheeks and he closed his eyes at the sensation. Her hand led his face to look up at hers but he kept his eyes closed.
Fleetingly, her cold lips brushed against his bruised skin. "Please," she pleaded, "Please don't put yourself in danger like that again. I don't care what happens. Promise me you won't do that."
"Only if you promise that I'll be your next boyfriend," he said, looking her in the eyes.
"Bella, I want to explain," Benjamin started.
"Not now. I'm going to put Lennox in bed. Then we can go to my room to talk," she said, sharply. Her tone reminded him slightly of his mother.
When the car came to a halt in front of the apartment building, Benjamin cut the engine and hurried out of the car. He opened the door for the full-handed brunette and reached out to help her. She didn't accept his hand and managed to retrieve her bag from the backseat and get out of the car without waking Lennox.
Her home seemed smaller and more confined with Benjamin beside her. Her mind was consumed with thoughts about him and most of them had nothing to do with the fact that he had gotten into a fight earlier. He brushed against her arm as they entered the room and she could feel the sparks fly across her skin.
Once Lennox was lying safely in his crib, changed out of his good clothes, Arabella retreated to her bedroom closet. She didn't bother closing the door as she walked in and unzipped the dress. It fell to her feet in a pool of blue silk fabric. Exchanging the dress for a silk pair of shorts and a tank top, Arabella emerged from the closet and threw the dress in a hamper.
Benjamin watched her from her bed. He had perched himself on the edge while he waited for her. When she was sure the dress was in the basket and that her face was composed, she placed her dainty hands on her hips and spun around to face him. "Are you going to explain what the hell is wrong with you?" she asked in a harsh whisper.
In the light, the brunette noticed the bruises that spread across his face. The sight pained her but she remained resolute as she stood across from him.
"He said that you were probably so desperate for money that you would whore it out to him really easily," he mumbled. He kept his eyes locked on his folded hands. When the brunette said nothing, he glanced in her direction.
One small hand had moved from her hips to her forehead and she was massaging the tender pressure points at her temples. She bit her bottom lip and quickly brushed over it with her tongue before she spoke. "Don't get me wrong, that's the sweetest thing, in a backwards sort of way, that anyone's done for me."
"But?" the boy prompted.
"But, who was he hurting by saying that? Let people think what they want, Ben." Her voice was soft and melodic. He was looking at his hands again but when she came close enough he could see her feet in his line of sight. Her cold fingertips caressed his cheeks and he closed his eyes at the sensation. Her hand led his face to look up at hers but he kept his eyes closed.
Fleetingly, her cold lips brushed against his bruised skin. "Please," she pleaded, "Please don't put yourself in danger like that again. I don't care what happens. Promise me you won't do that."
"Only if you promise that I'll be your next boyfriend," he said, looking her in the eyes.