He Stole My Cab (Benedict Cumberbatch Fanfiction)

Chapter Fifty Four

It was a blessing and a curse to be in his arms again. To feel his warm breath against the back of my neck was more than I have felt for the last two weeks. I could sense a slight rasp in his breath, a slight shake as he inhaled making the hairs on my neck stand on end. Even they craved to be closer to him. My stomach was alive, like a thousand butterflies were trying to escape, trapped in my throat, stopping me from breathing. I felt so light like the butterflies might carry me away but at the same time a strong weight kept me grounded, kept me trapped. I wanted things to continue how they were when we first met, I wanted him to make me feel alive but the fuse lay in tattered, loose threads on the ground that had to be fixed before that could happen. If I closed my eyes I could go anywhere: in a restaurant, watching a movie, curled up on the sofa, anywhere as long as we were together, his cologne encircling me like a blanket, protecting me, keeping me warm and safe. But I wasn’t anywhere. I was in a graveyard, the daunting bells still chiming in the background.  I had to see his face.

 I let the bells chime 10 more times, counting each one, building my strength. Each time the bell swung I imagined a bulldozer swinging into my protective wall I had built so high, letting it crumble, allowing Benedict back in. I turned slowly, his arms still holding me upright. I had to try very hard just then to not cry, or slap him or kiss him or do anything. I don’t know what I wanted. That’s a lie, I wanted him. I was tired of lying to myself.

His eyes darted left and right, up and down, taking in everything about me before locking his eyes with mine and my heart twinged in pain. The circles below his eyes were even deeper, darker than before, his hair limp, skin pale, almost translucent. There were no curls in his hair, his shoulders were no longer broad and sharp but rounded as he stood slightly stooped. His usually full, wide lips curving down, chapped. A cracked version of his former self. It broke me more than not seeing him.

He looked so, unbelievably sad. Not just sad but as though he had lost a part of himself. My body was still shaking, as though I couldn’t believe he was here. My whole body seemed to be throbbing in time with my pounding heart, beating in time with those formidable bells. My skin where he touched me seemed to burn, banishing the cold. “Breathe Theresa” he practically whispered and I let out a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. His voice was steady, the deep tone like glue, rebuilding me and his lips shook ever so slightly. Oh how I had missed that sound. Deep and sweet like treacle.

His eyes continued to search mine for a long time and once he was sure I wouldn’t fall down he let go of me. No. Come back. A strange pressing feeling on my chest was making it even harder to breathe, I needed him. I wanted to grab his arms and wrap them back around me, I wanted to cuddle up to his chest, I wanted him to smell my hair and kiss my forehead. I wanted my Benedict back, I just didn’t know how.

Neither of us spoke, or moved until long after the church bells stopped ringing. The tension was rising like water in a bath, waiting to drown us both and my heart felt as though it was about to explode from my chest. We just stood and stared. And stared. What had happened to us? Images of us before all of this clouded my vision, we were like a movie couple, everything was perfect. Ok maybe not everything, we had some bumps in out sunset drive but this wasn’t the end, was it? But why did it feel so final.

Before I could stop myself a tear trailed down my face, the cold wind making it seem as though it froze to my cheek. Benedict’s eyes followed the tear watched as it flowed onto my chin before falling to the ground. He looked at me one more time and turned on his heel and strode away, taking a large part of me with him, leaving a shell of the girl he once knew.

Benedict’s POV

Don’t turn back. Don’t turn around. Keep walking. I repeated these words over and over in my head as I knew I would give in to my heart if I didn’t. I knew she hadn’t moved yet as I listened intently for footsteps. Good, stay there Theresa. Her name was like the sweetest nectar and the most toxic poison to my mind, everything I loved about her and all the damage I had done hitting me at once.