"This is all dumb," grumbled Ezra. He stood in Gabrielle's living room, cane out, and he paced as he hissed. "For you, I mean. I was really happy about Gabrielle - her accent is nice, she's quiet, but then turns out she's an angel? Possessed by an angel? How dumb is that? I mean, it's bad enough that your first crush in ages turns out to be from Heaven, but then to find out she was forced to get with you? I just-"
"Ezra," Ben said softly.
"To some extent, I guess it could be cool. Who gets to say their first crush was an angel? But it still sucks and it was still wrong but also I feel like if an angel entered my body and just said 'go to Ben,' I'd go to Ben. And, I mean, that might be hard since I - you know, I can't see, but Gabrielle can see, right?"
"Ezra..."
"So what I'm saying is, can you really blame her? What she did sucks but like-"
"Ezra!" snapped Ben.
Ezra licked his lips awkwardly, going quiet. "Sorry," he muttered.
Things were becoming far more stressful than he'd intended. But Ezra was right: Ben shouldn't really be blaming Gabrielle. Just because it hurt him didn't mean it didn't hurt her, too. Maybe she was really stressed out about the situation. Maybe being possessed made you not think straight.
Or maybe it didn't do anything and she'd acted purely out of instinct.
"I should apologize," Ben mumbled. He rubbed his face, groaning softly. "I reacted so harshly..."
The other didn't say anything and Ben lifted his gaze curiously. With his lips pressed tightly against each other, it seemed like Ezra was forcing himself to stay silent.
"Sorry... Go ahead," Ben said.
"Okay, maybe once this all boils over - y'know, once Ewan goes to Hell and Elizabeth goes to Heaven - you and Gabrielle can..." He shrugged. "Like, get together or something. She is really nice. And I like her accent, it's less distracting than Ewan's. Way less. Like, a lot less."
Ben glanced over at Ezra. He sat in silence before managing to nod, sitting back and staring at the ceiling. "Maybe."
Definitely, though, was his answer. Definitely, he'd love to hang out and get smoothies at Juniper's Shop and yes, definitely, he'd love to help her with homework. Definitely, was his answer, he'd love to be with her.
But these feelings had developed so quickly, he wasn't sure if they were real.
Soon, Ezra cleared his throat. "We should get you home. Tiana probably..."
Is dead, thought Ben. Mentally, he smacked himself for letting his mind go somewhere that dark instantly. She had another day - that's what the number by the door had said. She had another day to live and breathe and think about things and another day to forget.
Another day Ben would usually spend telling her everything was alright because he was the only person that could. The only person that knew everything wasn't actually okay.
He got up, gently taking hold of the other's arm and pulling him up. "Probably."
The ride home was quiet. It consisted of the soft breeze of spring against their cheeks and the hum of traffic beside them. They'd done this enough times that, out of habit, Ezra gripped the bottom of Ben's hoodie with one hand, his other on the grip at the back. And although it made Ben anxious, he leaned back.
The only thing that kept him from making Ezra lean forward was the fact that he could practically feel his smile from behind him.
Ezra's house was the simplest, most daintily painted white trailer in the middle of nowhere. It was within screaming distance of absolutely nothing - the closest house was 10 miles out, the closest gas station, 30.
It was an ideal house for Ben. He'd give anything to live in such a secluded, quiet place, but life had made other decisions for him and he shouldn't be complaining about them.
Ben slid off his bike, taking off his helmet and setting it on the handle. Then he nudged Ezra with his arm extended and the boy took it, getting off the bike with minor elegance. Stumbling a little, he then pried the helmet off his head and set it, routinely, in the basket at the back.
"Ezra!" called a man. "Ben!"
"Mr. Martin," greeted Ben, turning to look at the door.
There was Ezra's dad. He had wide, bright blue eyes that said nothing but joy and a stomach that screamed a drinking problem. But he handled it well, covering it with a blue button-up littered with pineapples and tan shorts that reached his knees and revealed hairy legs.
His lips were thick, a trait Ben didn't particularly like noticing, and his arms had words on them. Names. Analise, Olivia, Sam, Adam, Ezra.
Olivia and Sam came racing out of the house. They both stood at perhaps 4'8" with short brown hair and pretty brown eyes that were wide with curiosity and interest.
"Ben!" squealed Olivia. "Did you bring us something?"
"I did not," Ben said slowly, clicking his tongue. He crouched down, giving each of them a hug. Naturally, he wasn't a very huggy person. The last hug he got was surrounded in bad memories, putting him in a position to thoroughly dislike them. But the twins wouldn't have even taken no as an option. "But I'll bring something next week. Promise."
He brought them little gifts whenever he could. Baking supplies, as they were both avid bakers, and sometimes art supplies. Depending on what hobby they were pursuing at the ripe age of seven.
Ezra's younger brother Adam was usually too busy playing video games to greet him, but the idea was welcoming for some reason.
In Ben's mind, this was the closest thing he'd ever known to a family. Of course, before his mom had died, he'd had it great. His father and mother were social and doting and they spent time with him. Things had been lovely. But Ben was an only child and after his mother had passed, there was no one at home for him but the robotic lady that cleaned the house and smiled.
It was refreshing, in that sense, to be at a house where things were okay. Even if his father was drunk, he still took time out of his life to be with his kids. Even if they weren't steady financially, his father still made Ezra feel okay about not having a job.
"Why not stay for dinner?" asked Ezra's father. "We're making, uh..."
"Pancakes!" exclaimed Sam. "They're Ezzie's favorite. We worked so hard on them - c'mon, just try one?"
It was difficult to say no to Ezra's family. They were so lovely and mundane that it felt like only the right thing to say yes. But with Tiana at home, it definitely wasn't the right idea.
"You know," said Ezra, putting his hand on Ben's head, "he's got a ton of homework. So much homework. Not even a little, you know? - but like, a lot. Those teacher's just... do not let up. For no man."
Ben sighed through his nose. "Maybe another time, Mr. Martin."
He went to turn on his heel but he stopped, remembering something that had also been eating at the back of his mind. Not the demon in Stirling's clothing, not the angel. Something more important.
"Is Mrs. Martin home?" Ben asked.
The man's eyes lit with joy. "Yup. She's resting her eyes right now - Ben, I just... I cannot thank you enough."
"So the surgery went well," Ben mused.
"In every way possible. I'm just... so lucky that Ezra knows the good ones, you know? Soon Analise will be able to see you... Ezra... Olivia, Sam, Adam... m-me..." He choked up, scoffing and rolling his eyes. "Look at me. All teary-eyed."
"And if this works out..." Ben murmured. He left it open-ended, hoping Ezra's father knew the end.
"This little guy-" Mr. Martin pulled Ezra close, making the boy stumble in confusion and grimace as his head was rubbed, but there were happy tears in his eyes too. A giant grin laced his lips. "He's going to see, too. He'll see everything a boy his age is supposed to see."
Swallowing anxiously, Ben said, "Just tell me when."
Mr. Martin clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Son, I swear... you're better to me than the Lord above sometimes."
And Ben didn't reply because the money he was giving them wasn't his money anyway - he had no right to be giving it to them, but it wasn't like his father cared. Ben could buy another house and he wouldn't even come out of his room. Too engulfed in fixing Tiana.
"Maybe I'll see you next week?" asked Mr. Martin. "A-And Analise will, too."
The thought warmed him. He nodded vaguely. "Sounds good, Mr. Martin."
The twins whined as Ben made his way back to his motorcycle, leaving Ezra with a gentle tap on the shoulder.
"Drive safe, son!" called Ezra's father, standing in the doorway with the twins.
Without looking at the man, Ben gave a small smile and nodded, putting on his helmet. "I will. Thank you."
He got on his bike and, waving goodbye to the family, headed home. The way there felt... nice. He just felt like everything was going to be fine - more than fine, maybe. Maybe he could be happy for once. Maybe when Mrs. Martin started seeing and... maybe when Ezra did, too... maybe he'd feel like he'd done his piece in the world.
Because really, Ezra's family was the best one he'd ever known. And he wanted to do everything in his power to make them happy.
Getting home, he propped up his bike and headed inside, glancing around.
It was always quiet in the house but there was a deeper silence when she was gone. The sort of deep silence that made your skin tingle and a weight fill your stomach.
It's just a feeling, he thought. Doesn't mean anything.
"Tiana?" he whispered. It was what he always did when he got home, he called for her, but this time he knew it was pointless. The feeling in his gut continued to sink as he walked up the spiraling staircase to the third floor, holding his breath.
She will be there. She will be folding my clothes and she will be smiling.
He got to her room and slowly, gradually, he opened the door. It was a dark room, with the fan gently going, rustling their hair.
There she lay, on her bed. Smiling, she stared at the ceiling, hair splayed around her like a golden ocean. Her naturally bright blue eyes, the ones that glowed with power and energy, were now dim. Slowly, she tilted her head over to glance at him. Her smile brightened a little bit.
"It's so strange, Ben," she whispered.
I can't feel myself, he thought.
"I can't feel myself."
And I can't remember for the life of me what time it is.
"And I can't remember for the life of me what time it is."
I'm sorry I didn't clean your clothes.
"I'm sorry I didn't clean your clothes."
I couldn't remember how to use the washing machine, isn't that silly?
"I couldn't remember how to use the washing machine, isn't that silly?"
Come over here, why are you so blue, darling?
"Come over here, why are you so blue, darling?"
Ben approached her. Tears made his vision blurry and confusing, but he made his way to her bed and he collapsed to his knees. Still, she held her angelic smile, and he took her hand in his. It felt like skin against his own, but colder. The feeling of a dead hand. One welcoming a relentless death.
She clicked her tongue, a sound that echoed in his brain, giving him a look of motherly pity. "What's up, sugar?"
"I'm having a bad day," choked out Ben, smiling weakly. "I-I'm having a really bad day."
"What's wrong, baby?" she asked, scrunching up her eyebrows. "Do you want me to make you peanut butter and crackers?"
"No," mumbled Ben, shaking his head. He tried to smile for her, but it was difficult. Everything was so damn difficult. "I just... want you to talk to me, Mom, if that's okay."
"Mom," repeated Tiana, looking to the ceiling. "For some reason, I can't remember you calling me that... recently." She went quiet, then she tilted her head to look at him again, sighing happily and smiling brightly.
"Ben," she said softly, "I have loved being your mother, do you know that? I am so blessed to be with you every single day of my life... No one else is that lucky, do you know that? I'm the only one who gets to... see you grow up from a baby to a wonderful young man to a married man to a... an old man." She chuckled, wrinkling her nose. "I'll be with you every step of the way in your life. You know that, right?"
"Yes," choked Ben, "I do." He held her hand tighter, sniffing. "I know that."
"I don't know what's going on in your life, Ben," she said softly, looking him straight in the eyes, "but I do know that tomorrow, when I'm feeling better, I'll make you peanut butter and crackers and we can sit and talk and you can tell me everything. Okay?"
Ben chuckled weakly, blinking back tears. He didn't know what to say. All he could manage was, "I'm allergic." He didn't know why he chose to say that, of all things, but it fell from his mouth like pebbles. Instantly, he regretted it.
She tilted her head. "No, you're not," she said, chuckling softly. "Your dad just did that to protect you."
"He..." Ben cleared his throat, shifting. He couldn't tell if she was lying or not - he never could, because Tiana wasn't... she wasn't real. But she'd never had a reason to lie to him. "He what?"
Her gaze was doting, and loving, gentle and kind until it turned to the gaze of a polite, confused woman. "Hi, young man," she whispered. "Could you, um... help me find my husband? I think I... got lost... or something." She smiled kindly. "You look like my son. What a beautiful boy he was..."
"Get out," commanded a dark voice behind him.
Ben whipped around, heart skipping a beat.
There stood the tall figure that was his father. A man, about 6'3" with a glimmering silver ring on his finger. He was silhouetted by the darkness in the room and the light outside.
Quickly, Ben got to his feet.
"D-Dad-"
"Get," growled his father, stepping forward, "out."
But Ben held his ground. He took in a sharp breath. "What was she talking about?" he asked, clenching his fists.
His father ignored him, rather shoving past him and heading for the bed. Without so much as a single care, his father grabbed Tiana by the ankle and began pulling her out of the bed like a sack of potatoes. Her body hit the floor with a sickening thunk, making Ben flinch. His father began dragging her to the door.
"She's still alive!" yelled Ben, lunging for Tiana to pick her up, to lift her head, anything, but his father whirled around and firmly placed his hand on Ben's chest, shoving him back effortlessly. Ben's back collided with the wall, and he grunted. His gaze shifted to the side, where he saw Ewan standing there, masked mostly by the shadows. He took in a sharp, surprised breath, gazing at the other.
"I told you to get out," demanded his father. Ben's eyes flicked back to him. "She's worthless now."
"My mother is never worthless," Ben replied, voice as firm as possible but it still wavered.
The tall man turned to face his son again, eyes stone cold and emotionless. "Your mother. This?" He lifted Tiana by the ankle and Ben lunged, not knowing what else to do, and with a shove, he sent his father stumbling back.
The man scoffed, standing there in awe. He dropped Tiana's ankle without a word. Then he brought his hand up and reached into his tuxedo, pulling out a knife on a string.
"Let's see," he mused, "if she's your mother. That piece of technology - that piece of shit. Let's see, hm?"
Before Ben could open his mouth to protest, his father had grabbed him by the arm and yanked so fiercely that Ben groaned in pain, but he didn't move. He simply met the older man's glare with his own and watched, unflinching, as the man dug the knife into Ben's arm.
It hurt. It stung - it burned. And Ben wanted to yank his arm away and yell. But he didn't, and he rather clenched his jaw until his father took the knife away and held up his arm. Blood seeped from the wound.
"This - does this look like wires? Cables? Motherboards? Circuits?" his father growled.
He shoved Ben back.
"And do you know what's inside this robot, Ben?" his father continued. He pulled Tiana up by her arm this time, holding the knife up as if to show what he planned on doing. "Do you know what robots are made of?"
"Don't," Ben breathed, clutching his arm. The pain was nothing compared to what his father was doing. Compared to where his father was putting the knife, how it sunk into Tiana's skin effortlessly, how-
A clatter followed, and they both looked towards the window.
When Ben turned, all he could see was Tiana's golden hair leaving his sight. The sound of her body scraping against the floor made him want to scream. But then she was gone.
And that was that.
Collapsing against the wall, Ben rubbed his face with his hands, unsure of what to do now. He knew she'd come back. In fact, she'd come back better than she was before. But this...
This wasn't how things were supposed to be.
Maybe this was all just a bad dream. A dumb, terrible dream that he'd wake up from soon and nothing would be like this. Nothing would hurt him, nothing would try to make his heart ache. Nothing would-
"I don't want to startle you," said an Irish voice, startling Ben, "but I'm going to kill him."
Ben's eyes flitted up to where he'd heard the clatter. Blush coated his cheeks as Ewan revealed himself, probably having been invisible.
"How much-" His voice broke, so he tried again after clenching his jaw in irritation. "How much of that did you hear?"
There was a hesitance from Ewan before he spoke. "All of it."
"I-"
But Ben's voice broke again, and he couldn't finish. He couldn't try again. He slid down the wall and covered his face and he sobbed.
There was a hand against his shoulder soon, and Ewan pulled Ben to him, holding him close. Ben wrapped his arms around Ewan's torso and sobbed into his shoulder. He sobbed an ugly sob that made him shudder out and in breaths, that made him feel like his throat would tear in half, that made him feel like he wouldn't be able to breathe properly ever again. A sob that let him know his father was really that villainous.
Because no one dreamed of things this terrible.
Ewan was patient. He held him tightly as Ben sobbed, and he rubbed his back and the two sat in verbal silence, allowing Ben to release his pain.
Just for a few minutes, he thought to himself. Just for a few minutes and then you'll tell him to leave.
Later, they sat in Ben's room. Ben had retreated to sitting on his pillows while Ewan sat against the footrest, scratching absently at Stirling's leg. It was a strange action, considering Ewan had made it perfectly obvious he couldn't feel anything but his own fire. Despite the blank look in his eyes, he seemed quite content, if not sympathetic.
Which was quite surprising.
Ben felt a little better, too. He never quite sobbed with Ezra, not on his shoulder. Usually, the two acknowledged Tiana's end with a smoothie from Juniper's Shop - Ezra's treat. The boy was the only one that knew when it happened and for four years that had been enough for Ben - more than enough. But having the ability to sob onto someone's shoulder for what felt like an eternity had been truly enough, and now he was ready to hear what Ewan originally came to tell him.
"Gabrielle said she was sorry," Ewan began. Sympathy tinged his voice, as Ben had suspected. And he spoke slowly, tilting his head at Ben. "And Elizabeth said she was sorry too. But I'm... well, I'm not sure if that helps you."
Ben shrugged, looking down to the pillow in his lap. It was brown like the color scheme of his entire room. "There's just a lot going on. Thank you, though."
Ewan shifted, running a hand through his hair. "Anyway, Elizabeth said we completed a column. In Hell, that means you completed a Sin, which means... well, I've gained a power." He paused, looking at Ben. "Or we have. Or you have. I-I'm not sure. But you somehow completed a column - Wrath. Or, in Heaven... Forgiveness."
The other bit his lip before taking the silver Enchantment off of his neck. "I think you should have this." He held it in front of him, offering it to Ben.
"Why?" asked Ben.
All of this, still, felt surreal. Powers? Columns? The fact that he was even in the presence of a demon. The fact that he was in the presence of a demon who had taken control of his dead classmate.
But he needed to get over that. Nothing was going to change just because he dwelled on it forever.
"You're the one that completed it," Ewan said. "I think it's meant for you... or something."
"Or something," Ben teased behind a very small grin. He took the Enchantment, holding it in his hand and admiring it. The metal tingled in his hands and reluctantly, he put it on. It was heavy. The chain itself probably weighed two pounds, the Enchantment weighed three, maybe. But it felt right to have it on his neck.
"So what does this mean?" Ben asked. "You never told me how you found me."
"You had one of those little panic attacks, too, right? Where you feel like your head is exploding... your chest is caving in... everything hurts all the time and it doesn't seem like it'll ever stop."
Ben only nodded.
"Me, too. Except when you're on the other end, you start hearing... directions. Did you have that, too? Because it's a very odd thing."
Ben was quiet in return. He looked down at the Enchantment that he'd hung around his neck, and gazed at the glowing red light.
He glanced up at Ewan. "So, what, we have... linked panic attacks?" It was a joke, but at this point, it wasn't going to be a surprise if it was true. "Is that what happened last night?"
"I think so -" Ben rolled his eyes - "You did have a sort of... attack last night, didn't you?" asked Ewan.
Ben only nodded. It hadn't been as bad as the one that day by any means. More of just the feeling of swallowing cotton and having a knife in your head, while the one that day had been like getting stabbed in the chest repeatedly and having razor blades in your throat. It had been like fire engulfing your body and having sandpaper rubbed against your eyes and brain.
The memory made him blink a few times, rubbing his face in disorientation.
"I had one too. I... heard your voice. So I figured we were linked, I guess," said Ewan, shrugging. "How fun is that? We're... panic attack buddies."
This earned only a sigh from Ben, and he set his head back against the headboard, looking at the ceiling. He still felt fragile. Vulnerable. Like a single push would throw him over the edge. And he felt... guilty. About everything he'd ever done, for some reason.
"I'm sorry about what I said," mumbled Ben. "In the bathroom."
It wasn't like Ben to apologize by any means, but Ewan hadn't deserved that. He hadn't lied, hadn't cheated, hadn't done anything wrong, really.
"Thank you... But I'd just choked you half to death. I think we're even in being chums."
Quirking an eyebrow, Ben grinned. "Chums?"
Ewan blushed a little, glancing to the side. "Like... dumb, rude guys... I must've gotten that word wrong." Awkwardly licking his lips, the other shifted on the bed. "So not chums, then?"
"Douches," Ben said. He was grinning like an idiot for some reason. "I think I see what the other demons see."
Ewan raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"You're... addictive personality... I definitely see that."
They sat in silence for another moment, grins lacing their lips, and then Ben shifted so that he was laying down and staring at the ceiling. The bed shifted and soon Ewan was laying down beside him, staring at the ceiling too. They bathed in the silence for a second, only watching the fan turn lifelessly on the ceiling.
"You were right, though," whispered Ewan. "About me."
Ben set his head to the side and gazed at the other, who kept his gaze on the ceiling.
"I... in my mortal life, I hadn't done anything good. I was a really, really bad person, Ben. That's... well, that's why I went to Hell."
Now he had to know what Ewan's life had been like. If not for Ezra, for himself.
"Well," said Ben, "spill your guts."
Ewan tilted his head and the two shared a gaze that was strangely compelling. Something that told Ben the story that was about to be told would be Ewan putting all his cards on the table - there would be no secrets, no lies.
And he was ready.
"I was a prince," Ewan began, and his gaze turned to one of uncomfortable remembrance. Of longing. Like there was something right in front of him that he couldn't have. "And my father was a tyrant. He... He did a lot of awful things to all of his people. And I did a lot of awful things in his name.
"I hated doing what he asked, but he threatened me with death or torture when I refused. I was selfish, so I did as he told me." He went quiet, swallowing weakly. "Mother never agreed with what he did - she was too sweet to understand the idea of hurting someone else. They married in Father's early years as King, maybe before he knew what royalty was really like, and she used to cry and tell me about how lovely of a man he'd been before whatever happened to him. Power, I guess. Father got word of it and he... he wasn't happy." Ewan turned his head to the side so Ben couldn't see his face, and he breathed, "He made me kill her."
Ben inhaled sharply. It hit him like a brick to the stomach - like a sack of potatoes, maybe, was a better analogy, because here he'd been treating Ewan as if he didn't have his own problems. As if he wasn't even... someone. As if he had gotten to Hell and that solely defined him.
Clearly, it wasn't.
"I'm sorry," Ben whispered.
"I was - I-I was mad. And I was depressed. I used those emotions to fuel me and I plotted my revenge against my father. It took three years, but I finally got the courage to poison him." Ewan inhaled shakily, looking back at the ceiling and rubbing his face. He kept his hands there, speaking in a muffled voice with disdain. "I was dumb and irrational. It didn't work. Father knew it was me and put a plan in action that would force any of his heirs to continue his work. If he died, I would have to continue to do exactly what he did."
Ewan smiled through his hands and Ben became hopeful.
"I met a boy later on. The most... charming, priceless man I'd ever met. He was beautiful with... with bright blue eyes and this dumb smile that made my stomach flip. He changed my world and made everything better, made me forget what I had to do. He believed me when I told him I didn't want to hurt anyone but it was my duty. We came up with a plan together, then, to kill my father. He said we would find a way around the plan to force me to do my father's work.
"I stabbed my father in his sleep two years later. The world was... happy, for once. And I had what I wanted. I thought for sure that I would be free, that I could do whatever I wanted, but we soon found out that there truly was no way around the act my father had made."
Ewan went quiet, letting his hands slip to the bed, and Ben gazed at him. The demon had the look of someone going through trauma. Someone seeing something awful happen right in front of them.
"He told me to kill myself," croaked Ewan. His voice cracked. "He said it was the only way things would ever truly change."
The demon took in a deep breath and then shrugged lightly. "I did. I did it for him. I did it for everyone. In the moment, when I was ending my own life, I... I knew he was using me. But I don't blame him and I don't regret doing it. In fact, I... I was happy to do it. I still am."
Silence rang again between the two before Ben shook his head. "You shouldn't be in Hell, Ewan. You did something noble."
Ewan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Tell that to God."
Ben propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Ewan. "You committed every Virtue, didn't you? And just one Sin? You gave up... everything."
"There's a story that goes around Hell about a boy who did awful things in his life and at the last moment, he prayed. When told he was going to Hell, he asked, 'Why? I've done something worth Heaven.' God simply replied that a single sin can outweigh countless prayers. Just as..." Ewan sighed as he said, "a single prayer has no chance of outweighing countless sins. Plus, suicide is... a giant sin."
Ben let himself lay back down and he stared at the ceiling, concerned. That didn't make sense. It shouldn't work like that.
"Thank you for telling me," mumbled Ben. He put his hands on his stomach. "I'm sorry it happened."
"I didn't tell you for pity," replied Ewan, sitting up. "I told you so you'd know I was a bad person." He put a hand against his chest, looking at Ben. "But I want to change. And I want... I want you to consider the fact that it isn't too late for you. You're 18, Ben. Chances are, you have a whole life ahead of you and I think you" - Ewan put his hand on Ben's chest - "have a shot."
Ben grinned cheekily. "Have a shot at being an angel? Think I'd rather be a demon.."
Ewan shook his head, grinning back. "I'll take that as a compliment for sure. But... honestly, Ben. No one wants 1,000 years of torture. I don't want that for you, more specifically."
Lifting a hand, Ben gripped Ewan's wrist gently, chuckling. "Thank you for your concern." He pulled the other's wrist off his chest, sitting up as well.
"So you're not going to change?" Ewan inquired, still grinning.
"Not if I can help it." Ben shrugged. He added, "Plus, you're right. I do have time. And when I'm old and in my late fifties, I'll... start praying every day and donating to charities. Maybe I'll even adopt some little orphans."
Ewan grinned some more, scrunching up his nose and shaking his head. "I don't think you're that type of person."
"No?" asked Ben. He raised an eyebrow. "What type of person am I?"
"You..." Ewan said, "are the type of person to seek justice, Ben. That's why you go around filleting everyone who lies about this or that."
Ben looked up at Ewan before a smirk cracked over his lips and he snickered. "Accurate." He licked his lips, shrugging. "Maybe I'll be a lawyer, then."
"A lawyer? Girls are into that, aren't they?" Ewan asked, followed by a shrug. "I heard a lot of the girls date lawyers."
"I'll be in my late fifties, Ewan. Not sure I'll be picking up chicks. Or dudes."
Ewan scoffed, raising his eyebrows. "Or dudes?"
Ben was quiet, setting his head to the side, grinning knowingly at Ewan. The two shared a look and Ben felt lost in Ewan's eyes. He knew they were Stirling's, but there was something different from the way the basketball player used to look... Something open, exciting, intense. Something Ben felt drawn to.
He paused, taking in a slow breath. He became aware of how close their faces were, and he exhaled slowly.
"Stirling Wager has a basketball game tomorrow," said Ben. "And if he isn't home early the day before, his parents will kill him."
"I'm not Stirling Wager," whined Ewan, biting his lip. He sat back, looking at the other earnestly.
"Yes, you are," replied Ben. "So you'd better go."
"Will you come, at least?" asked Ewan. He got up, running a hand through his hair. "Tomorrow?"
Ben sat back against the headrest. "No... too many people."
"And Ben Sawyer lets the supportive families and the basketball team and prostitute cheerleaders scare him?" asked Ewan, putting on his shoes. "Surprising, really."
At this, Ben scoffed. "Trying to wound my pride to get me to go?"
"Would it be too straightforward to say yes?"
"Yes," said Ben. "It would. But it worked. Consider my pride officially wounded."
Ewan mocked him by pouting, then nodded to the door.
"I'll come by tomorrow. Bring some beer, we'll have fun." Without asking, he got a jacket from Ben's closet. A black hoodie that he slipped over his head and straightened out.
"You'll have fun. School socials have never been my thing." When Ewan opened his mouth to object, Ben sighed, interrupting him quickly. "Even if there's a demon playing for our side."
The other huffed. "Well, at least you'll be there."
As Ewan left, Ben drifted into thought.
What had happened? What had changed? Why did talking to Ewan suddenly feel so natural, so... easy?
They'd been... on the bed, talking... And things had been almost perfect. Ewan was great at dragging Ben out of his misery, and not by placing the point of focus onto Ewan's story, but by... flirting?
Ben paused. Things were... confusing. But they were a good confusing. The type of confusing that he didn't even want to question or think twice about - he just wanted to soak up the lack of understanding and run with it.