The movie finished, and the room quickly flooded with light once more.

Ben had done as he promised, whispering all sorts of explanations into my ear along the way.

But, to be honest, it was to no avail.

When he was properly seated in his chair, I was too lost with what was going on in the movie and half distracted when his thumb would change direction in movement on my hand.

And when he leaned in... his warm breath on my ear was all I could pay attention to, his words bouncing off with no chance of sinking in.

"Did you want to have dinner together?" Jade asked, evidently speaking to the both of us as we exited the theatre.

Ben shook his head. "I will be keeping Olivia to myself this evening."

My heart fluttered in delight, and I did my best to hide my smile in my hair before anyone noticed.

But Jade's eyes were already burning into me, a grin stealing her face. As I met her forest-green stare, she winked at me. "I'll see you next time then, Olivia."

Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around me, giving me a brief hug before slipping her hand back into Loren's. Without a word further, the pair walked away from us... leaving me with him... alone.

Ben started tugging on my hand, causing me to start moving.

"Where are we going?" I questioned.

"I know a place," he explained.

Informative, I thought, but I didn't press further. I'd have been happy to just walk around London as we were, hands locked together, immersed in my moment of bliss.

But I didn't have to wait long. Just down the road from the cinema was an eclectic Italian restaurant that Ben pulled me into. With only a few seats inside, I quickly realised they were all taken.

I gave Ben a confused look as we walked inside, but before I could say anything, he dropped my hand.

And my heart dropped in response.

"I have a reservation for Benjamin Cross," he said to the hostess.

A reservation? My mind immediately demanded, but I bit my tongue, trying not to seem too eager.

"Just this way, Mr Cross," the hostess said, leading us through the dining area to an open courtyard that housed more seating out the back.

"Wow," I gasped, taking in the twinkling lights, candlelit tables, and vines growing up the wooden posts that framed the perimeter.

Ben grinned at me. "Good choice?"

I was only capable of giving him a nod back.

When we had reached our table, Ben pulled out a chair for me, indicating for me to sit.

With knots in my stomach, I tentatively sat down.

As Ben joined me, he cocked his head to the side, gaze searching my face. "What?"

"No one has held a chair out for me before," I mumbled. The feminist in me wanted to get up him for thinking I couldn't pull out my own chair, but the romantic side of me was adding another tally to her whiteboard of proof that Ben may actually like me.

He grinned in response. "Glad I can take one first of yours."

I looked down at the menu, pretending to be very intrigued. But as my eyes glanced over the meals, none of the words sank in. I was too conscious of his eyes still burning into me from across the table. But finally he looked away, and I could feel the air flood my lungs at once... as though it might be one of the last chances it gets.

When the waiter showed up, Ben ordered another rare steak, and I got the pumpkin gnocchi.

Yet after taking our menus and walking away, I narrowed my eyes at Ben. "We come to an Italian restaurant and you get steak again?" I asked.

"It's my favourite cut of meat," he responded, tone defensive.

I rolled my eyes. "What do you have against pasta?"

"I can't eat it," he mumbled back, head drooping.

My jaw dropped. "What do you mean?"

"I have... an intolerance to it."

"Are you a celiac?" I pressed.

"Something like that."

I pursed my lips at his nonanswers and lifted a hand, counting on my fingers as I spoke. "No cookies, no garlic, no pepper, no popcorn, and no pasta? Are you sure you don't have a terminal illness or something?" I was a little concerned now, to be honest. The number of things he couldn't eat made me wonder whether he was immunocompromised or something.

"I'm fit as a fiddle, Olivia," he responded, grinning, but there was something—I couldn't quite pin what—lurking in his gaze, suggesting otherwise.

Nonetheless, I didn't press further. I would find out Monday.

"So what did you think of the movie?" he asked when I didn't say anything back, resting his head on his hands, elbows on the table.

I can just hear my mum wanting to berate him for his elbows... Shaking my head, I met his eyes. "Um. It was good?"

"Yeah... that doesn't sound very assuring."

"Did you like it?"

A sigh escaped him. "I think I will have to watch it again. I missed a lot."

"You did?" I brought my water to my mouth.

He nodded. "I was very distracted." A small, alluring smirk flashed across his face.

The water slid down my airway as I took in a surprised gasp by his comment, causing me to begin a coughing fit.

"Are you okay?" he asked, hand sliding across the table to me in a concerned manner.

"Mhmm," I managed to get out once the coughs had subsided, taking another sip of water to chase away the tightness that lingered.

He grinned at me as if he knew why I had almost died at the table, but thankfully didn't say anything.

Instead, he turned to his jacket pocket, slipping out his pill jar again. Popping one of the crimson capsules into his mouth, he swallowed it with water.

My stomach knotted once more as I began to fret about his wellness. But thankfully our food came out, distracting me from those wary thoughts.

"How do you normally spend your days?" I asked between bites.

"When I'm not with you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow while smiling.

It took everything within me to keep the corners of my mouth down so that I could regain whatever composure I had remaining. "When not with me... before me... whatever. What do you do with your time? Study? Work?"

He shook his head. "Neither."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Then what?"

He sighed. "It's complicated."

I rested my fork on my bowl, staring at him momentarily, searching. He must be sick... Why else would you not do anything?

But then he continued. "I don't have to work because... we are well off enough for that. As for study... I'm taking a break. I've done enough of that in my life. I just want to relax and do the things I want to do for now."

"Such as?"

"Such as researching about vampires."

"For your friend's story."

"Yes. For his story." I couldn't help but notice the way his voice slowed as he said the final word.

But I let it go. "And what else do you do?" Because that couldn't be all.

"I play piano. I learn new skills. I watch movies, play games." He shrugged. "The normal stuff people do."

I frowned at him.

"What?"

"It feels like a very non-answer for some reason."

"You want more detail?"

I nodded.

He laughed. "Well, a normal day?"

I bopped my head up and down again, probably a little too eagerly.

"It really depends on the weather. When it's nice like this or colder, I suppose I get up. Check in with my housemates as to whether we have any important... tasks for the day. Help out with any admin jobs or meetings necessary for the many businesses we run, though Erica looks after most of it."

My head began to crane forward as he spoke. Many businesses?

Yet before I could pry, he went on. "Then my afternoons and evenings are generally free, so I try to learn a new skill every now and then."

"What new skill are you learning now?" I interjected.

"Jewellery making," he responded, sticking his final piece of steak into his mouth.

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"Think it might come in handy." His eyes pierced flickered up to mine as the words left his mouth, the string around my heart tugging me closer to him.

After a slow blink and breaking the contact momentarily, I then pried further, picking up on an earlier comment. "And when the weather is warm?"

He rested his fork and knife down, dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, and took a sip of water before answering. "Mostly sleep. The heat makes me very lethargic."

He had to be ill, I concluded.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

Ben walked me home after we finished dinner, holding my hand the whole way, a small smile tickling his face as I tried to calm my heart. Would it ever feel normal to have him touch me?

When we reached my door, I wanted to ask him if he wanted to come up. I wasn't quite ready to part from him.

However, another part of me knew that I should wait to hear what he had to say before taking that step.

And, I had work in the morning.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked first.

I bit my lip.

"What?" his face fell slightly.

"I kind of have a call booked with my mum in the evening. Normally we talk on Saturdays, but I had to cancel..."

"That's okay," he said quickly. "I guess I'll see you Monday then."

But he didn't turn to leave, and he didn't let go of my hand. We just awkwardly stood in front of my door, not really looking at each other, not making any move that would suggest a decision to go.

Suddenly, I watched his free hand slowly come up from his side, my eyes locked on it as it came closer to me.

Ever so gently, he pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, sending all sorts of tingles and warmth coursing through my body.

"I had a nice time tonight," he whispered, his hand lingering against my cheek.

"Me too," I said, finally meeting his eyes, biting my bottom lip.

His hand trailed along my jaw, stopping at my chin as his thumb brushed against my lip, tugging it from the bite.

And my breath caught in my throat.

In that moment, I wanted him to lean in.

I wanted to close that distance.

I wanted no more space in the lasso, our hearts joining into one.

But he stayed where he was, his hand still on my face, his eyes on my mouth as though he were having the very same thoughts.

And I knew, if we stayed like that, my knees would buckle and either I'd fall, or he'd catch me... and either way, I'd be mortified of the situation.

"Can I ask you a question?" I started, unable to take the intensity of his distance and his gaze on my mouth with no action.

His eyes flicked back up to mine. "Of course. Beyond the one you just asked too." He seemed a little reluctant though to break whatever moment we were having.

I shook my head but smiled. "Jade said you never talk to anyone outside of your group and rarely those in your group. Why?"

He bit his lip this time, and my eyes stared, fantasising about how soft they would feel against mine... but thankfully his voice broke my thoughts.

"It's dangerous to let people close. Especially those outside our group. You never know who or what they are... As for those in our group... I find it scary letting people know me. I'm not the most likeable person."

"I like you," I blurted out without thinking, feeling the heat flood my face almost immediately.

A goofy grin slipped onto his face in response as he coyly mumbled, "Do you, now?" But he didn't say it back.

"Why did you talk to me then?" I asked, hoping I'd get some form of confession from him.

But he smirked and jested, "You started it."

"No. You did by taking my seat," I threw back at him.

He chuckled. "I suppose I did. But you gave me the book. And you sat down with me. It was hard to ignore you when you forced yourself into my life."

Forced...

The word hit me like knives, all joy exiting my body at once.

I dropped his hand and took a step back, my heart aching at the distance, but my brain racing with self-doubt.

This isn't just me, surely. He was the one doing all the staring and eye flirting... unless that was my imagination.

"What did I say?" he asked.

I shook my head, already feeling the burning in my eyes. "I should go in." I need to go before he sees me cry.

"Olivia." He grabbed my hand that fumbled for the keys, staring at me, sorrow swirling in his oceanic eyes.

Unable to stop myself from giving in, I let out a sigh. "You make it sound like I was a pest," I breathed, trying to hide my face from him, not wanting to see his reaction.

But he quickly said back, "No. No, no, no. Definitely not. I really liked that you noticed me. That you seemed to want to get to know me."

I slowly turned back around, warily glancing back at him.

A softness spread across his face as he stared back earnestly.

"You say that like no one ever approaches you," I said.

"They don't." I let him lace his fingers back between mine.

"Bullshit. You'd have endless girls making googly eyes at you."

Another smirk. "You find me that attractive, Olivia?"

I bit my tongue as the urge to run grew again. Why does he do this? Why embarrass me about how obvious my feelings are and never give me anything back but a touch.

In my silence, he went on. "Yes, I suppose there's the occasional onlooker. But normally when they find me glaring back at them they don't look at me ever again. Unlike someone..."

I shook my head. "You were certainly hostile, but I didn't get the vibe that you didn't want me to come near me. You looked... almost lonely."

His breath hitched, but he said nothing in response. Almost as though I had hit a nail on the head, and now he was trying to bury his own pain from surfacing.

So we stood there in silence, not saying anything for a moment, merely staring at the parts of each other, but never making eye contact.

"I should let you go inside," he finally said, letting my hand go.

My stomach knotted as I began to wonder if I said something wrong earlier... if he had worked himself into a mindset that would see him disappear again.

But then he gave me a warm smile. "Sleep well, Olivia."

"Text me when you get home safely," I replied, not wanting tonight to end, but knowing I really had to go to bed so that I wasn't a zombie for work.

"Will do," he grinned. Then he turned around and disappeared from my sight.