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Post by Benson Thomas on Nov 27, 2009 14:59:43 GMT -5
Benson didn't know how to respond to her heated response. It wouldn't be right to respond equally here on the field, much less in front of total strangers, but she was so fucking hot. Not challenging her made her turned on? She didn't expect him to be upset over being rejected? Not only did the logic of that evade him, but he brooded over it, making it harder to understand. Women were weird.
He stood, stationary, for a long time, occasionally receiving a pass but always dumping it off soon after, never really playing with it. Once on the outside, he lobbed the ball across, and someone attempted a bicycle, ending up flat on their back with a decent clear from a fullback. He knew he could've made the trick, but he lacked the desire.
He felt like doing nothing...
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Nov 29, 2009 17:20:27 GMT -5
Andrua sighed as she watched Benson throughout the game. She was constantly away of his presence. More like lack of presence, though. Because he was hardly playing. She frowned; that was weird. Or maybe it wasn't. Apparently her rejection put him in a deep dark mood; one that even soccer couldn't pull him out of.
Andrua's team one by a single goal and she was near positive that, had Benson been playing to his usual par, they would have lost. After receiving congratulatory high-fives and the like from her team-mates, she moved over to Benson. She hated that he was unhappy. She hated that it was her fault even more. She wished fervently once more that she could just say yes. Wished that she knew how to. Chewing on her lower lip, she reached him. She swallowed deliberately, pushing down tears.
She touched his hand lightly, not really holding it exactly, but establishing a connected contact. "Let's go home?" It was a statement but she phrased it as a question. She would go just about anywhere he wanted to at this moment. Anything to cheer him up.
She thought she might prefer it if he was angry. Andrua was familiar with an angry Benson. If he was angry then they could yell and shout and challenge each other and eventually solve the problem and end up having wonderful anger-sex afterward. She didn't know what to do with this sad Benson, especially if he wouldn't let her comfort him.
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Post by Benson Thomas on Nov 29, 2009 18:49:57 GMT -5
Something about blocking her out felt wrong. It was as if putting a shield up--probably for fear of further rejection--was not what he was supposed to do right now. If he wanted to get her back (was she gone to begin with? had he turned her away with the proposal in the first place?), was this the way to do it? Avoid her? Or, did she want him to open up again, and act as if nothing happened? That was impossible, because the past made the present. Sighing in defeat at his own mental battle, Benson shoved his hands in his pockets after the game was finished. As predicted, Andrua kicked ass.
Home. Right. Swallowing thickly, he nodded, bending to pick up his vest before starting down the path they had initially been on to go home a good hour ago. Hating the silence, he piped up, though his voice hitched somewhere near the middle, "You, um...you played great."
Idiotic. When did she not play great? His head continued to hang.
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Post by Andrua Thomas on Nov 29, 2009 18:58:39 GMT -5
Sliding back into her shoes, she nodded sadly at his comment. "You played like you were dead." Like he had no soul for the game. Christ. Could she have fucked up any worse? Sighing lightly, she pulled closer to his side, not really caring if he didn't want her. She needed his touch, damnit.
They walked slow on the path. She had no right to not want him to be sad. She had made him sad, it was her fault. She didn't have license to jokingly order him to cheer up. What a fucking day... She just wanted to go home and sleep and have it be over. She wanted to wake up in tomorrow with Benson at her side.
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