Shards of Glass

Chapter 7

Benedict Cumberbatch had asked me out. Each time I remembered, I felt a mixture of excitement, crushing nerves and massive anticipation. I remembered how it had felt in the museum and on the roof and even though my sensible head was yelling at me that it was too perfect, too cheesy, I couldn't deny that it had been amazing.

Ben sent me a message later on that week and asked if I was free the following Wednesday. We arranged to meet at 8pm outside a pub not too far from my house.

"Adventurous." I teased as he kissed my hand in greeting. "I thought you did loads of extreme sports and high adrenaline testosterone man stuff. I'm surprised we're not skydiving."

"I do like doing all that. But, I also like sitting in pubs, especially when I have good company." His eyes were twinkling. Fuck!

"Well that's something we have in common, so as soon as I find some good company I may have to give you the slip."

He laughed and put his arm around my shoulder as we walked towards the bar. It was a friendly gesture but it felt so good to be touched by him again.

He got us a couple of drinks and we sat in a booth, opposite each other. The pub wasn't busy at all and if anyone had recognised him they didn't let on.

We talked about lots of things, in that un-self-conscious way that happens when you're not worrying about what to talk about. He told me about his parents, some of the funny things him and Martin Freeman had done on the set of Sherlock, and where he had travelled to. I had done a bit of travelling and we shared some favourite places. We found that we had quite a lot in common, but more importantly for me, I felt so comfortable chatting away to him.

A few drinks later and all of a sudden I was aware that there was a limited amount of time left. I looked at my phone to check the time, and saw that there was a text from Olliver. I cancelled the phone quickly but not before Ben had seen.

"You're going to check that?" He said.

"Nah. It won't be important." I replied, cursing Olliver's timing.

"Ok. Listen, I have no right to ask, but..." He hesitated.

"There's nothing going on," I said. "I know it looks that way sometimes, but really. There was a time when we thought about it, but it's not anything I want to go back to." I hoped that had come out right.

Ben looked serious. "Alright," he said. "Shall we get one more drink before I walk you home?"

While he went to the bar I sat and thought about the last thing he had said. I wondered what I was going to do. I had done all the things you do before a date and made sure I had on some good underwear so I felt confident if anything did happen. But, I also knew I should probably hold back a little, in the interests of retaining a little mystique!

I decided to see what happened.

Ben might have been having similar thoughts, because when he came back to the table, instead of facing me, he sat down next to me in the booth.

I took a sip of my drink and licked my lips, just as my goddamn fringe jumped out from behind my ear and fell right in front of my eyes. Ben started to laugh and sipped his own drink.

"Just as I was TRYING to be sexy." I said, shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head.

"Oh, you don't need to try, Anna," was his reply. His voice was so low it was a growl. It resonated through me.

I shook my head again and smiled "Oh, God, neither do you!" I blurted out. "But, I guess you already know that."

"It's still nice to be told it by someone... who I..." he trailed off. He had a habit of not finishing his sentences, I noticed.

He made a face, like he was trying to start over again. Then he smiled one of the huge, natural Cumberbatch smiles, like he had relaxed once more. He bent his head down as he did.

I decided to face this, quite literally head on, and turned my whole body round towards him. He looked up, and just like he had on the roof, his elegant fingers moved my hair away from my eyes, brushing my face softly. Then he moved his hand down and ran his thumb across my lips. I felt like I might start shaking.

I stared into his magnificent eyes and I could see all the different colours, all shining with an energy I'd never seen before. It was a tiny bit scary.

"Anna." He said, and at that moment he wrapped his hand around the back of my head and pulled me towards him. Holy shit! I was screaming inside. His grip on me was strong but it didn't need to be. I leaned in to him and tilted my face up to meet his, as he brought his lips down. It was firm, but it was soft, gentle.

His lips on mine. His hand still on my head, in my hair. He opened his mouth and I responded by flicking my tongue towards his bottom lip.

It felt like the kiss had lasted somewhere between 2 seconds and 2 hours, before he broke contact. He didn't move away, holding his grip on me. He rested his forehead against mine and shut his eyes again, a slow smile creasing up his face. I yelped a quick "Fuck!" which in truth I hadn't meant to say out loud.

"Oh, Anna..." he growled, pulling me out of the booth we had been in and handing me my jacket.

***

We walked quickly out of the pub, stumbling a little bit when we reached the pavement. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the growing tension, but Ben clasped my hand in his and we suddenly weren't talking any more.

"Oh, fuck it." He said when we were halfway to my house, and he pulled me into a small garden area lying between two shops. He pushed me up against the wall, where the street light didn't quite reach, and we were again face to face, only this time I couldn't make out what his eyes were doing.

His hands encircled my head, his thumbs on each of my cheeks, and he stooped down, bending his knees slightly, to kiss me again.

This time it wasn't gentle, it was desperate, filled with both need and power. He bit down on my bottom lip and I opened my mouth wider. His hands moved down to my waist and pulled me in towards him, but then he pushed me backwards against the wall with his own hips. My mind was focussed; all I could think about was how it felt, how right it felt.

I had my hands on his arms, squeezing his biceps through his jacket, and I moved one hand up to his neck, resting my fingers on his short hair and pulling him closer to me, I needed to feel the kiss go on and on.

He moaned as I moved the tips of my fingers in his hair, and he bucked his hips into me, slamming me against the wall again and taking my breath away. I didn't care. I could feel him getting hard under his jeans and I knew we had to stop this before it went any further in public. It was almost impossible, but I managed to make a noise with my throat that was loud enough for him to take notice and pull away from the kiss.

"What's wrong, are you ok? Did I...?" He still had me pinned against the wall but the posture of his shoulders altered to show his concern.

"No, no, no, it's fine. I'm good. I just." I stammered, putting my hands down by my sides. He stood up, releasing me. "I just don't think we should... here." I said. "I mean, I REALLY want to. But, you know? Ben?"

He swallowed. "I guess you're right. Yes. Ok. Um, I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away there."

I stood up and brushed my hair down.

"Come on, let's get a cup of coffee at mine."