Come Live With Me

The next few days passed in a lovesick haze. It seemed like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders knowing that Benedict was there for me to talk to. Thoughts of him circled my head day in and day out, and everything I did was done in a state of elation, with a sensation I’d not felt for anyone or anything before. I would go to school and learn as if it wasn’t difficult, I would do my chores as though I took delight in them, and helped my mother as if I couldn’t hear the insults she threw at me during her post-prescription comedowns. It was my only real happy time for quite a while, and it was all because Benedict had made me feel wonderful, like I existed as a real human being – knowing that someone out there cared, as I’d learned from my father that they so often didn’t.

He had texted me a lot, telling me little things about his day, what had gone on while he’d been filming, asking how I was and how college was going and if I needed any help with anything. I’d asked how his days had been going and told him about the stupid dreams I kept having – I was prone to weird dreams and sometimes they were just hilarious. I didn’t realise it particularly, but I was messaging him and him alone most of every day – nobody else – and I was beginning to miss the sound of his voice. You know that moment where the kisses at the end of a text start multiplying? It was getting to that point where it was stupid – I was absolutely lost for Benedict, and it gave me the most wonderful feeling that I just couldn’t get rid of.

Today I’d spent my time trying to glean as much information or gossip about him as possible from conversations I overheard at school, listening into girls’ conversations about TV and movies they’d been to see – a luxury I couldn’t afford, personally.
We were just doing independent study in my English A-Level class, when all of a sudden I heard something that caught my attention. I put my pen down to listen closer to the TV-themed conversation.

“Did you watch the last episode of series three yet?” A classmate mumbled from behind me.

“Yeah, it was so incredible. I’m so excited that Andrew Scott’s coming back. God, Benedict is so hot.” The second girl replied superficially. I guessed it was my Ben, given that his name wasn’t so common. I smiled, relishing in the hug he had given me just days earlier – and nobody was any the wiser!

“Oh my God, don’t even.” The first classmate replied, before they started talking about the details of the show that I had no clue about. I decided to take a deep breath and just turn to them.

“Hey, I couldn’t help overhearing. Are you talking about Benedict Cumberbatch?” I said, those six syllables feeling sensational leaving my mouth as I said his name.

“Yes! He’s gorgeous, don’t you think? I didn’t know you were a fan!” The first classmate, who I discovered was Rebecca, squealed somewhat. I smiled, realising I’d hit a goldmine.

“Oh, I do think. Yeah, you could say I’m a bit of a fan! What do you like about him?” I asked, probably sounding weirder than I thought it would.

“Well, he’s an incredible actor – I presume you’ve seen ‘Sherlock’ so I won’t say another word. I think he’s really cute. He’s also such a gentleman, everyone knows it. Ed Sheeran got drunk with him once apparently, and he said in an interview that Ben’s constantly charming, even when he’s pissed!” Rebecca told me via multiple pitch changes, mentioning a musician that I loved. Of course, I already knew how much of a gentleman Benedict was, and how handsome he was up close. How he smelt, how it felt in his arms... I blinked out of my daydreams about the man I hadn’t stopped thinking about for almost a week.

“I watched that interview the other day!” Sam, the other girl, squeaked enthusiastically, joining the conversation again.

“It’s also the fact that all he really wants is a little family.” Rebecca added. My mouth went dry, and I wondered whether if I furthered any relationship with Benedict, would he want to have children while I was so young? I put that to the back of my mind – he hadn’t even officially hinted about a real relationship yet, and I didn’t want to jump the gun regardless of how much we chatted.

“If you were actually with him though, wouldn’t it frighten you to have a kid so soon?” I said, probably more seriously than I should have for light gossip – but like I said before, I’m not one to do it very often. Rebecca snorted as she laughed, making an ‘as-if’ noise.

“Yeah, like that would ever happen! Why would he go for a 17 or 18 year old when there are plenty of women his age that would die for him too? I think it’s cute that he wants kids – I certainly wouldn’t mind volunteering myself!” Rebecca said, following her laugh, making me feel really shitty – though I couldn’t let the two girls see it for fear of coming across weird. I just smiled and laughed along with their chatting, before turning back to my page as my mind ran with thoughts.

Why would Benedict see anything in a girl so much younger than him? I mean, not that it was perverted or anything – I was 18 in a few months; a relationship with him would be completely legal even if I was 16. I frowned at my ridiculousness after realising he wouldn’t be texting me so much and making such a, so far, platonic effort to befriend me if he was some kind of creep. He clearly did genuinely enjoy my company and conversation, so I decided to just enjoy the ride, however bumpy it would be. I’d always been attracted to older men more than boys my own age anyway, so I didn’t see a problem with it personally – I just saw the problems other people might see in it, or worse, that Benedict might see. It had never crossed my mind that I actually might be on the road to a relationship with an older man, one day.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Speak of the devil.

“My place, 5pm? I have a present for you. B xxx” It read. I smiled as I tried to hide my phone under the desk, replying to his message.

“I’d love to, Sherlock. J xxx” I sent in return, poking fun at him from what little I’d learnt today from chatting to the two girls behind me. I wondered what on earth the gift was, too...

“Ah, I’ve been rumbled. Feel free to research all you like ;) B xxx” He messaged back. I was delighted at his honesty, feeling like he wasn’t scared to air all of his dirty laundry for me. It made me feel guilty for not revealing too much about myself, in all honesty.

“See you later. J xxx” I sent, and with the bell, I was off to get ready for my little meeting.