𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘 | mal and ben

present

In the days that followed, Mal drifted into a haze of distance and silence. The weight of the loss hung heavily on her, and no matter how much Ben tried to comfort her, it was as if a wall had risen between them. She would stare blankly at the world around her, her once fiery spirit dimmed. Conversations were short, and even when they were together, her mind seemed elsewhere, tangled in thoughts that she couldn't—or wouldn't—share with him.

Ben watched helplessly, aching to break through to her, to somehow soothe her heart. He kept telling himself that she just needed time, that she would eventually let him in. But every time he tried to talk to her, every gentle question or offer of support, she would brush him off, her voice distant and her gaze avoiding his.

One evening, a few weeks after the loss, Ben decided to approach her again. He found her sitting by the window, gazing out into the fading light of the evening sky. Her profile was silhouetted by the warm glow, but there was a sadness in her eyes that he couldn't bear to see.

"Mal," he began softly, taking a tentative step toward her. "Can we talk? About... anything. I just want to know how you're feeling."

She didn't look at him, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I'm fine, Ben," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He moved closer, undeterred. "You don't have to be fine," he said gently. "You can be angry, hurt, anything. Just... talk to me. I miss you."

She sighed, her shoulders tense. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Whatever's on your mind," he replied, his voice soft but persistent. "I just don't want to lose you to this silence. We can get through it, Mal... together."

Mal finally looked at him, her expression clouded with sorrow and frustration. "You don't understand, Ben," she said, her voice barely concealing the hurt beneath. "You don't understand what it's like... to lose something you never even got to know."

Her words stung, but he kept his gaze steady, knowing this wasn't about him. "Maybe I don't know exactly how you feel, but I do know what it feels like to lose you. I don't want that. I don't want you to feel like you have to go through this alone."

Mal shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked away. "I just need some space, okay? I need to figure out how to deal with this... on my own."

Ben felt his heart sink, but he nodded, stepping back slightly. "If that's what you need," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'll be here, Mal. No matter what, I'm not going anywhere."

Without another word, she turned back to the window, leaving him standing alone in the growing shadows. Ben felt the familiar ache return, but he knew he had to respect her wishes, even if it tore at him.

As he left the room, he couldn't shake the feeling that Mal was slipping further away. All he could do was hope that, eventually, she would find her way back to him.

Ben poured his heart into spending time with Lil Ben, finding a sense of comfort and purpose in their time together. Lil Ben was a constant reminder of love and joy, something steady amid all the change and sorrow. Each morning, he would be the one to get Lil Ben ready, and they would go for little walks around the castle gardens, or spend quiet moments in the playroom where Lil Ben's laughter could brighten even Ben's heaviest days.

One afternoon, as Ben was stacking blocks with his son, he couldn't help but marvel at how much Lil Ben had grown and changed in what seemed like no time. His son's smile, the way his small hands would reach out to him, everything about Lil Ben felt like a grounding force that kept Ben from dwelling too much on the sadness he couldn't shake.