Coughdrops ~ Benedict Cumberbatch

Coughdrops; Part 2

Benedict Cumberbatch holding two bags of Halls cherry coughdrops.

“I am so sorry!” he exclaimed, moving out of the way immediately.

“N-no, it's okay,” Jasmine stuttered as she moved forward a bit, taking two bags off the shelf. “You get that kind too, it's my favourite, I always get two because I run out quickly, they're the best and I eat far too many but what can you do.”

She was rambling now, and Benedict looked amused.

“I like them too,” he said, gesturing to the bags in his hand. “In fact I was going to get a third, but the rational part of my brain disagreed and left me stood in front of the shelves, having a debate with myself.”

He chuckled as Jasmine's face lit up, a smile taking place of the neutral expression she had worn before.

“I do love them, but three may be a bit much, don't you think?” she asked, then looked down at her hands. “Though I suppose that two may seem a bit much for me, so three is probably fine for you, I'm sorry for interrupting—”

Benedict shook his head, and smiled.

“You didn't interrupt, it's fine. I've just got a terrible cold, or something, and I needed to pick these up.”

Jasmine looked up at him again, regaining her composure a bit.

“Me too! It's horrible, this time of year, all the sickness. Well anyway, I'll let you get back to your shopping, nice meeting you Mr. Cumberbatch,” and before her heart could convince her that, really, she should ask for a photograph, a hug, anything—she walked away, disappearing into the “Frozen Goods” aisle and not looking back.

As she speed-walked towards the chip-and-pin machines, Jasmine suddenly realized that she'd forgotten something. She paused to think near a shelf full of biscuits. However, this only made her stomach growl, and she still couldn't remember what else she needed to buy.

“Blast,” she muttered, and decided it wasn't important.

The biscuits, however, were.

When one is sick, one is entitled to whatever one may desire to eat, Jasmine argued, against the part of her that said Are biscuits really a good choice when I'm feeling sick?

The ones she wanted—in quite a large box—were, like the tea from earlier, on the top shelf. There were also, unlike the tea from earlier, not within her reach. This of course did nothing to prevent her from trying all sorts of things that might allow her to get at them, including standing on tip-toes, reaching with one arm, reaching with both arms, and jumping up and down repeatedly.

Nothing worked.

Just as she was resigning herself to the fact that she wouldn't be having a nice snack with her tea later, and gazing forlornly at the out-of-reach box, a rather large hand came into view, picked up the biscuit box with ease, and brought it down in front of her.

Startled, she turned to face whomever had helped her, mentally preparing herself to thank them quietly and then be on her way, so as to avoid any unwanted conversations.

It was him. Again.

“Oh, hello!” Benedict said cheerfully as he recognized her from earlier. “I saw you having issues with reaching those biscuits, and thought I might assist you. Here,” and he held out the box again.

Jasmine carefully took it from his hand, noticing how tiny it looked when he held it, and that she had to use two hands, otherwise it would drop onto the floor. She rearranged the things she was holding so the biscuit box acted as a shelf for her tea and coughdrops.

“Thank you very much, the assistance is greatly appreciated. I had begun to despair,” she said, doing her best to act normal despite the fact that there he was for the second time, reaching up to grab two boxes of a different kind of biscuit, and looking beautiful while doing so.

Sweatpants suit you, she thought.

Her discreet appreciation of Benedict was interrupted when he placed another, smaller box on top of the one she already held, being careful so he didn't knock off the tea and coughdrops.

“You should try these, they're wonderful,” he said, gesturing to the box. “Oh! But you don't have to if you don't want, they're just nice...”

He trailed off, looking sheepish.

“These do look nice, and I can never say no to the chance of more biscuits. Thank you very much!” She looked up at him, smiling a happy and genuine smile, then nodded.

“I'd shake your hand in thanks as well, but as you can see, my arms are a bit full,” she laughed, looking down at the things she held.

Which is fortunate, she added mentally, because otherwise I would definitely ask for a hug and a photograph, thank goodness I can't, I wouldn't want to ruin his quiet day but at the same time I don't know if I would have been able to stop myself from asking.

Benedict nodded back at her, and held up his hand in a little wave, smiling as he did so.

“Have a nice day,” he said.

“You too,” she responded, and they both moved away in different directions; Jasmine to the chip-and-pin machine, and Benedict to who-knows-where.

As Jasmine turned a corner and found the queue, she looked down at the small box of biscuits. They were Shortbreads, dipped in dark chocolate. She chuckled quietly to herself.

My favourite coughdrops, my favourite chocolate, and my favourite actor. All in one day? This has got to be the best hour of my life.

~~~~~

Hello lovies, Jesse here!

Second part up, hope you enjoyed!

I slightly regret doing this, but I'm going to have to ask for 5 votes in order for the next part to be published.

That's not too much, now, is it? Get to work! ;D

xx