This isn't weird.

Properly Hugged

When they began the walk back to her apartment, Millie politely offered to give Ben his jacket back. Much to her relief, Ben politely refused. This time, she held onto his arm while they walked. It was more than enough to make him oblivious to the chilly night air.

"It's weird, Ben," she said, looking at him as they strolled. "I feel like I've known you for a long time. Is that weird to say?" 

"Super weird," he replied with a grin.

"Sorry," Millie laughed. "It's just... not usually easy for me to make new friends. I'm told I'm kind of a... standoffish person."

"Really?" Ben asked. "You don't seem that way to me." 

"That's why it's weird. I feel so relaxed around you. There aren't a lot of people I can really be myself around, and... it usually takes a while to get there, you know? Especially with men. Usually any time a guy tries to get to know me, it's just, you know—stereotypical straight guy bullshit."

"Well, straight guys are the fucking worst," Ben replied, with a note of irony that was completely lost on Millie.

She stopped walking and turned to face him fully. "Anyway, I'm just... glad we met, Ben."

"Me too." The way she gazed up into his eyes made his heart pound. Her trust in him was heartbreakingly sincere; he was nearly overwhelmed with guilt for his persistent fixation on her mouth, and how desperately he wanted to taste it. Ben pushed back the urge, and instead leaned down to wrap his arms chastely around her.

Just as she began to reciprocate the hug, he abruptly straightened, pulling her feet completely off the ground and squeezing against his chest. She let out a giggling shriek and scrambled to hold on, her arms encircling his neck in an eager embrace. "Man... I can't even remember the last time someone actually really, properly hugged me," he sighed.

"Aw, you poor thing!" Millie cooed, her breath tickling his ear. "Well, then, I promise to hug you every single time I see you, okay?" 

"Okay. I'm gonna hold you to that," he said with a smile. When he bent down to put her back on the ground, she remained stubbornly latched on.

"I can't let go," she whispered. "You're so warm."

"Oh, and there for a second, I almost thought you cared about me as a person." He laughed as he carefully disentangled himself from her grasp. "Come on, lizard girl, let's get you back to your terrarium."

Once they arrived back at her apartment, Ben braced himself to finally have to say goodnight, but the thought didn't seem to occur to Millie. She kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the couch, still wearing his jacket. He gladly joined her, and she rotated toward him, stretching her legs out over the couch and dropping her feet onto his lap.

"Oh, is that how it is?" he asked with a grin, resting a hand on her ankles. It took every last ounce of his willpower not to run his hand along her legs. They were right there.

"Mm-hmm." Millie briefly stretched her arms up over her head and stifled a yawn. She was clearly tired, but too stubborn to admit it to herself. Ben, on the other hand, was thoroughly awake—his caffeine tolerance was quite low; the midnight cup of coffee had him wired. 

"Hey, Ben," she said. "What was your greatest childhood fear?"

"Oh, wow. Big questions." He scratched his head as he considered it. "Dying, I guess?"

"Dying? Come on, everyone's afraid of dying. Be more specific."

"Okay, okay, hear me out!" Ben laughed. "When I was like, five or six, one of my cousins told me that every time you go to sleep, you're actually dead for a while, right? And I totally believed him. But I also had enough of a concept of death to know it's, you know—permanent. So my brilliant logical abilities led me to believe that every time you went back to sleep and woke up, you were like... someone else? A replacement, or a clone, or something. I don't know. So I was convinced that when I fell asleep, I'd be gone for good, and some other little Ben with all my memories would take over my life in the morning, like I had done to yester-Ben. I don't know, it made sense to six-year-old me. I was absolutely terrified of going to sleep for years. It drove my parents crazy. They thought there was something physically wrong with me, took me to all these doctors and made me do a bunch of sleep studies. Doctors would prescribe me sleep meds and I'd just pretend to take them and spit them out when Mom wasn't looking. Never actually told them the real reason why I wasn't sleeping, but... I outgrew it eventually."