The drive to his house was silent. I glanced over a couple times to see him. But he kept his eyes on the road. "You know I can see you doing that." I blushed as we pulled into the driveway of what looked like a mansion. My eyes widened. He lead me into the house and showed me to what was to be my bedroom. "This is kind of big to be a guest room." I said, shocked. "That's because it's not. It's my room." He responded, glancing over to see my reaction. "I will be sleeping on the couch."
Despite all my protests he wouldn't budge.
"No." He said. "You're the guest. You sleep here."
Later that night, after a dinner of homemade Mac n cheese, I slunk up to my new room only to discover that I didn't have anything to sleep in. Slightly embarrassed, I went to ask Benedict for something to sleep in. I returned to my room with an old t-shirt. The moment I slid under the comforter, I was engulfed in Benedict's smell. I fell asleep in moments.
