You had been cleaning your flat for most of the morning, and at first it felt good, productive, freeing. But now you were just getting bored; too lazy to pick things up off the floor before rolling over them with the hoover, kicking a sock under the fridge when it fell out of the washing machine and shoving things into drawers or cupboards when you couldn't find a place for them. On the surface, the flat looked neat, organised; curtains open to let the light in, a candle filling the air with the scent of vanilla and tobacco leaf.
You heard a thudding over the sound of the vacuum, switching it off and waiting a moment before you realised it was a knock at the door. You looked up at the clock on the wall before rolling your eyes with a groan. They were early, and you hadn't even gotten dressed yet.
You walked down the hall, wiping your hands on your jogging bottoms before opening the door, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the person waiting on the other side. Ben, tousled from travel, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a charming crooked smile on his face.
"Surprise," he said, his voice tired yet soft.
You stared up at him, your mouth slightly agape.
He raised an eyebrow and let out a nervous laugh. "Not the reaction I was expecting..."
"Wh- No, no I'm... Sorry, I just, I didn't even realise you were... I thought you were still in America."
"I was, but I caught an early flight so I thought I'd come and surprise you. Why? Are you not happy to see me?"
You let out a breath you didn't even realise you were holding, your stupefied expression melting into a smile. "Of course I'm happy to see you. I'm just shocked, I wasn't expecting you."
"That was the point," he replied with a boyish grin.
You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door and turning to look at him, still in disbelief. He dropped his bag and reached for you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His presence was so comforting; the familiar scent of his aftershave, the placement of his hands on your back, the warmth of his breath against the top of your head.
You stayed in his arms as you looked up at him, taking in his ever-changing appearance - the moustache had gone, replaced with a slight stubble, a tan across his nose and cheekbones.
He stooped his head, giving you a quick peck on the lips. "How've you been?"
"Fine. Bored. Just working, mostly." You peeled yourself away from him and made your way towards the kitchen. "What about you? Are you not insanely jet lagged right now?"
"Not yet. That'll probably kick in tomorrow," he replied as he followed you.
You filled the kettle and put it on to boil, dropping a teabag into a mug and looking over at him. "Is tea okay? Or I mean, there's gin in the cupboard..."
He laughed, sitting on a stool at the small breakfast bar at the end of the counter. "Tea's great, thank you."
The air fell quiet as you listened to the water bubbling in the kettle. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him again.
"So come on then," you said. "Are we going to keep ignoring the elephant in the room?"
He furrowed his brow, tilting his head in confusion. "What? What elephant? Is something... Have I done something—"
"The slap, Ben. The slap. You were there. You saw it. Up close."
His eyes widened in realisation, a relieved laugh escaping him in a breath. "Oh, that," he said, running a hand through his hair.
YOU ARE READING
The Feature
FanfictionIt's the biggest break in your journalism career so far; a one-on-one interview with the notoriously private actor Benedict Cumberbatch. He doesn't need to know the less-than-respectable strings you pulled to secure the exclusive deal. But when you...