47) 'Acting Like The Most Stereotypical Protagonist In Every Romantic Comedy...

4.1K 310 569
                                                  

47) 'Acting Like The Most Stereotypical Protagonist In Every Romantic Comedy Ever Doesn't Really Work Unless There's Rain And A Sad Pop Song In The Background' And Other Conclusions Benjamin Should've Realized Beforehand So He Could Get Music From His Mom's 'There's No Desperation Chocolate Because Benjamin Ate It' Playlist And At Least Fulfill Half The Requirements


Thijmen left the next day.

This was the second time Benjamin watched the Dutch boy pack his bags, but this time, he wasn't coming back. It was a one-way ticket back to the Netherlands.

He had been quiet all morning, wandering around the house (mostly his own room) in search of his belongings, and Benjamin had been just as quiet, handing him the things (mostly dirty socks) that he'd missed. Benjamin felt like he needed to say something, but there was very little time left and saying the right thing had never been his strong point, so he kept quiet. There was no time to do damage control.

He could ask something, though, right?

"When is the plane boarding?"

"Too soon."

He nodded, because it wasn't the answer he'd expected, but it was still an answer and it was true, so he couldn't object. Before he could ask more questions, Thijmen reached for his arm and pulled. So they hugged for a while. And they kissed for a while. And they ignored Eleanor when she called their names from downstairs. They ignored her until they couldn't anymore (having your parent knock on the door and scream while you touched and got touched by your boyfriend wasn't exactly pleasant).

"Thijmen?"

"Hm?"

"N-nothing."

Isaac the driver was already waiting outside. While his parents wouldn't go with Thijmen, Benjamin would. Benjamin did. They didn't speak much. They didn't even touch. With them facing opposite sides, huddled close to the window, it might as well have been the exact same scene from the very first time they'd met so many months ago.

"Thijmen?"

"Hm?"

"Um. I forgot I, uh. Can't. I'm not going with you to the airport." He didn't look at Thijmen, but he caught him staring from the reflection of the glass. Benjamin added, "Sorry."

After a pause, Thijmen replied, "Fine."

"Thijmen?"

No response.

As a final, goodbye gift, Benjamin could've told Thijmen he loved him—which, come to think about it, he hadn't—or told him he would miss him or that he would call the moment Thijmen set foot on the Netherlands. He could have done any of that.

After what felt like forever, he was finally able to dig out what he'd hid beneath the driver's seat when the rest of the population had been kind enough to pretend they didn't notice. Thijmen had turned to look at him, curious.

Benjamin nearly hit his head on the ceiling, but it was finally out.

He could've told Thijmen so many things. Out of all of them, the one that came to mind the most was thank you.

"Here," Benjamin told him, handing him the surprise, "I like you more than I like my pillow, so you can have my pillow."

Thijmen took it. Benjamin wished he was better at reading people. What did it mean if Thijmen hugged the pillow and hid his face with it? "Thank you," he replied, voice muffled, "Thank you, Bennie. I l... like you too."

None the WorseWhere stories live. Discover now