He groaned, turning away from you. He couldn't stand to look at you, because you gave him these feelings that he didn't like. He could feel his heart thump in his chest as you spoke to him. Your words didn't register in his mind. Instead he focused on the floor.

Why didn't you like him like you like the other Ben. You were just like the rest of your stupid fucking siblings... But he thought you were different. He thought you loved him. He thought you both shared something special, but he was clearly wrong.

"And he was-"

His eyes went back to you. You were talking about Ben- the other one. The one you liked better. He frowned, his eyes scrunching together. You were playing with his heart. You had to know that.

"Stop."

You looked at him, confused on why he told you to stop. You tilted your head, which just caused him to loudly groan before he stood up and walked away from you. You watched him, not understanding, but just decide to shrug it off. If he wanted to talk to you, he would come talk to you. You would just have to wait...

---

Ben stared at his ceiling. He could count each tile if he wanted. He knows he's counted them a million times. His mind went elsewhere, to a place he wish it hadn't. You.

He frowned, tossing over his pillow. He squeezed the fabric close to his face, hoping he could suffocate himself. Instead of death, his thoughts just got worse. It started off innocent, but slowly escalated, much to his dismay.

---

You hummed to yourself as you sipped on your drink. You were alone- no siblings, none of those Sparrows- just you. You smiled, leaning into your seat as you closed your eyes, hoping to go somewhere else in your mind, until a voice interrupted you.

"What are you doing?"

You sighed, opening your eyes to look at Ben, the other Ben. You didn't know why he was so obsessed with you, but he could never seem to leave you alone. It was like he needed you attention for some reason.

"Nothing."

"Good. I have a question."

You groaned under your breath, hoping this wasn't going where you thought it was going.

"Why don't you like me?"

And it was. You sighed, scooting over so he could sit next to you. "I do like you-"

"Not like him."

"You're not him."

"What do you mean? I'm literally him."

"No you're not." You look at him, "You'll never be him."

"Never?" He stands up, clearly pissed up. "I am him. I will always be him. He is me and I am him. You're just to caught in your own grief to see that you're getting a second chance. I love you."

"You? Love me?"

He blushes a bright red before shaking his head. "No, I said I hate you. I could never love something like you."