love over memoirs

reunited and it feels... kinda awkward?

Patience really wasn't Ben's forte.

A few hours after he threw his phone across the room and Sean popped by, he was trying to remove his wires from his arms again. God knows he didn't understand how he did it with such expertise, but he did know, so he used that as an advantage.

Once the wires were off, he stood carefully keeping one hand on the bed for balance. He was still a little weak and his sprained ankle wasn't getting any better but he would be damned if he stayed in this room for another hour.

The feeling was just there, under his skin. The familiarity, but without the sense of belongingness that he wanted to feel. But truly, what he wanted was--

Miranda.

Even though he had one picture to base her off, she was the only one he could think about.

As he found his balance, the door suddenly opened and he sat down, completely frozen. His back was turned and he didn't see who had entered but he assumed it was one of the nurses checking on him. He glanced at the discarded wires below him. Damn, he was caught.

"B-Benjamin?"

The soft voice brought him back to a memory.

They were spent after an hour of lovemaking. Miranda had her head on his chest, and she was playing with his hair there. Meanwhile, Ben's hand was drawing circles on her naked hip.

She looked up at him, and he stared back at her, curious as to what she was thinking. "B-Benjamin?"

"Yeah?" He asked, admiring her brown eyes.

Miranda took a deep breath, and closed her eyes as if impending for the worst. "I love you," she murmured as she turned her head away from him.

Ben was taken aback. He'd always thought he'd be the first one to say it, and it had been on his mind, he was just waiting for the right time to say it. But God, hearing it from her first had his heart pounding.

Apparently, Miranda thought his silence was rejection, and she began pulling away, but he grabbed her body, making her land on top of him. She squealed, her hands pressed to his bare chest.

He smiled at her, the one he reserved only for her, the one she'd confessed to making butterflies churn in her stomach. He pulled her in for a soft and sweet kiss. "I love you too."

He was brought back by her voice. "Benjamin, is… is that you?"

Ben turned around, tears suddenly pricking at the corner of his eyes. "Miranda?"

She was as beautiful, if not more, as the almost torn picture in his possession. Her glassy eyes were golden brown under the white lights, and her bottom lip was tucked under her teeth. She looked at him with hesitation, and he understood it. He was frozen too, and he didn't know what to do.

For the three days he'd waited, plotted, and imagined this moment, he thought his memory would come back, but the memory she'd triggered was the only one he remembered. Nevertheless, he was grateful.

After a couple more seconds of staring at each other, Ben took the little strength he had left, and stood, bypassing the discarded wires, and the big bed in his way, heading towards Miranda. He engulfed her in a warm hug, and he has never felt more at home than he has now.

Miranda's arms went around his back, and he could feel her body shaking. He felt wetness on his hospital gown where her face was pressed into, and he realized she was crying.

Ben pulled away, and looked at her properly. Tear tracks were dotted along her cheeks, and he wiped them away. He pulled her back into his embrace, and whispered into her hair, "I'm okay, I'm okay. I'm here, Miranda. I'm here."