Officially Cumberbatched? A sequel to 'Well and truly Cumberbatched'

Chapter 40

AN: Song for chapter ‘Munich’- The Fray.

Still Saturday.

Still walking; sometimes holding hands, hugging close through the wind, occasionally talking but silent mostly. 

…

"Ben"

"Mm"

"Could we take a break? My legs really tired." I said, I can't wait to never have to wear this boot again. 

I wish I never had to in the first place. 

"Of course, sorry I wasn't exactly thinking"

"It's okay, you're a bit of an arse but not totally thoughtless" I breathlessly said, his smile faint but understanding. 

…

“Twelve hundred acres to walk through at the farm yet you decide to head towards town instead.” I lightly said looking over at him, his shrug somewhat distant.

“We’ve got time, I’ve always enjoyed the route leading away from the farm towards the river where the horses often congregate. Old Hector surrounded by his favourite mares; Cressie and Caggie, your horse.”

“It was a joke Ben, I like being here whenever I get the chance, especially to see Caggie. But anyway, being anonymous down here- I need to be sometimes, it gets tiring constantly being a part of society, exhausting even.” I quietly said perching on a lonely oak tree stomp, its rings faint but synonymous of a long life nonetheless. 

“Makes two of us then doesn’t it?” he asked with arms folded, looking out over the dark rolling hills.

“Yes, it does.” He seemed frigid for a while as we walked, part of me wondered if he just needed to be alone, alone with his thoughts. 

“Rosie.” He uttered, looking over at me.

“Yeah?” I asked, wondering what was on his mind.

“Come, just come.” He said outstretching his hand for me to take, naturally I did, soft but strong, his hands always were. 

“At your beck and call, are you okay?” I asked, looking over the organised chaos that culminated in the beauty of the landscape; fields toiled for generations, horses roaming free from their stables, having been let out the evening before, farmers working the land until dusk, retiring to the company of their families before dawn beckons another working day, another challenge to overcome.

“I’m fine; I can tell you’re thinking about what I’m thinking about. I find myself doing the same regarding you more often than not. I’m okay, okay?” he said, his arms folding around me against the breeze, mine instinctively wrapping around him, the silence between us evolving into a source of security rather than confusion. 

...

“Regarding awards season.” I uttered, still overlooking the rolling hills.

“Hm”

“No more games Ben.” 

“What?”

“Mind games; when we're out people talk enough about you, I can't always pretend to be okay when sometimes I frankly want to burst into tears and be miles away from where we are. I can’t always keep up with your frame of mind. I want to but I can’t always.” I quietly said, his fingertips gently rubbing the nape of my neck, a few baby hairs dancing along the tips of his fingers. 

“Darling.”

“Hm.”

“I don't, I don't try to upset you. I can’t explain it sometimes.” He mumbled, I nodded into his jacket, knowing that much was true.