rebeccasheart.
She doesn’t hear him. She doesn’t hear the knocking, her name called out loud. There is nothing to hear but her own cries and the sound of her heart beating erratically. Blood pumps in her ears and they ring, but she doesn’t care. She is a mess, but she doesn’t care. She’ll make herself sick with all this crying… she doesn’t care. Her eyes are screwed shut as she tries to forget, as she tries to stop – just… stop. But she can’t.
It’s not until he’s in front of her, until he’s touching her, that her eyes open. Rebecca stares at him, eyes red and cheeks wet, bloody smears across her jaw and down her chest, her hair in disarray. She stares at him, and she wants to let him hold her, to feel his arms around her shoulders and bury her nose in his neck but then she thinks of Marcus, of her husband, of the father of her children – and he’s gone. He’s gone and there’s nothing she can do about it.
She loves Ben, but she loved Marcus first and she can feel her heart breaking, a part of it dying with the man who’d been her everything for so very long. She looks at Ben, and the words leave her lips without resistance, low and gravelly, her voice raw with her throat tight from the screams she’d thrown. “ get out.”
Part of him is angry at her for doing this to herself, but he pushes that part of himself down because he knows her. He knows that her temper flares can become destructive on a regular day, so it comes as no shock to find her in such a disheveled state. His second hand left her hair so they were both on her face and he brushed the wetness away with his thumbs. He’s seen her teary before, but never like this and his heart aches for her because he knows that nothing he could say or do would help her right now. Not when he wasn’t the man she currently wanted.
Ben shook his head at her words. Leaving her alone right now while she was like this didn’t sit well with him and even if she did make him leave, he’d be calling Ariadne or Jabba or even Vivianne to come down here instead. Ben raked his eyes over her form before his gaze eventually landed on her hands, probably the most damaged from the wreckage she had caused. Without a word, he stood and left her to go into the kitchen. He grabbed a tea towel, wetting it under the cold tap water and draining it a little bit. When he returned, it was with the wet rag and a bottle of whiskey.
He twisted the cap off the bottle, talking a quick sip before placing it down beside her. “Have a drink, love.” Ben murmured quietly before sitting on the other side of her, tilted slightly towards her. He took one of her hands gently in his and began washing the blood away carefully. “If you still want me to leave after I’ve got the blood off, then I will. But you shouldn’t be alone right now, Becca.”















