#benson.

‘damn right it is,’    words came out low and jagged.  benson kept his steady hands on the wheel,  didn’t look at reggie,  barely acknowledged her or her apology.  in fact,  he let it and the heavy silence linger between them until the stale air in the car felt like it could choke them both.  when he finally turned his head,  just enough to catch reggie in his periphery,  there was no understanding in his express.  it was barely readable,  at all.    ‘being sorry doesn’t change anything,  though,  does it?  but the question isn’t even whose fault it is. we’re way past that. the question is:  what’re you actually gonna do now that you’ve admitted you’re the one who made all this happen?’    he reached into the pocket of his cardigan,  fumbling for a lighter. @handspike.

'the hell you are,' benson glances through the review mirror, eyes trailing back across the asphalt they'd traveled miles across and will travel miles more down. 'i should get to pick for havin' to listen to you talk for 45 fuckin' minutes straight,' there is a searing truth in his words, but benson smirks a bit, side eyeing dolly in his passenger seat, eyes glancing over her exposed legs and shorts before they move back to the road. 'besides, we're going to th'first place we see, not picking out a spot for a damn lunch date,' @multis.

dryly: " you're too kind. " he moves to stand, anyway. only a fool turns down coffee that's being paid for by somebody else, and benson's no fool. " and, hey, don’t worry about him too much, " he says, gesturing his head in the direction the chief of staff just left in a tizzy, " clayton's got a habit of opening his mouth first and thinking second. "

i have acquired a benson.

‘ hellllloooooo everybody ! ’  well, someone’s in a good mood.

they both casually take a swig. ❛ that’s kinda, like, obvious. ❜

❛ no parties in the house while i’m gone. i mean it. ❜