Pills of love

Love Isn't Easy (But It Sure Is Hard Enough) (part 1)

Benny closed the front door with his back while reading the last report that Stig literally threw at him while he tried to run out of the studio after a whole day there: playing, composing, talking, writing. Yeah, having fun too, of course. But gosh, he was tired.

That day only Björn and he had been at the studio. The lyrics had already been recorded, they needed to be polished and fixed, but all in all they were done. Probably a little bit here and there, some fixing... But that was for the next week. Right at that moment, the weekend was on them and it was beautiful.

Benny frowned and snorted when he read some things on the papers he had in his hands and shook his head, closing the file and leaving it on the sideboard at the entrance.

He took off his shoes without even bending down and after an initial thought of throwing his coat and jacket on the floor, he immediately thought better of it and put everything away in the wardrobe and then, with a liberating sigh, he entered the silent house.

He looked around and noticed the still atmosphere. Too still.

"Frida?".

No answer.

He moved into the kitchen and found it clear, but he frowned when he noticed a plate upside down on top of another on the table and a glass next to some bread. It had every appearance of being his dinner.

His.

Singular.

He frowned again and left everything as it was, before returning to the living room and climbing the stairs to the bedroom.

Already on the last steps, he heard faint music coming from the end of the corridor and slowly approached that source of sound.

Rufus.

Classic.

As he passed, he noticed that the kids' rooms were empty.

The strong yellow light of the lamps came out of the half-open door of the bedroom and he opened it slowly, almost like in the movies.

"Woah".

Benny let out an appreciative whistle as he walked further into the well-lit room, a stark contrast to the rest of the house. He loved their bedroom, it was a little product of his and her imagination and it was just perfect. Warm and welcoming. Passionate.

Benny leaned with folded arms against the wall next to the large mirror, looking at her in her skimpy gray sequined dress that reached just above the middle of her toned and kilometric thighs on which he could lose himself for hours and which at that moment were slightly bent to pick up a jacket from the floor. A small cord of the same color was tied around her waist and killer stiletto boots on her feet. When his arrived at her back, the sight took his breath away. Her dress opened with a deep neckline on her back, giving him the perfect view of her perfect white back, calling him to run his hands all over it.

"My eyes are up here, mister".

Benny quickly looked up at her face as she turned to him with a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk on her lips, one hand resting on her hip.

"And they're beautiful" he said smugly, grinning like an idiot "And you're also stunning overall..." he watched her as she strode towards the mirror to touch up her makeup and he immediately took the opportunity to come behind her and touch her body with his own, catching her scent, touching her free hair on her shoulders with his nose, without touching her too much. She was too perfect to be touched.

"So... It's not my birthday... what do I owe this show to?" he whispered against her ear.

Frida chuckled amused, swatting away his left hand as he had begun to caress her side "Nothing. Keep calm, boy. This isn't for you".