Exhaustion washed over you as Benny bandaged up your hand. As the cold had steadily left your body, it was replaced with a warmth that was intent on making you fall asleep at the touch of his fingers to your palm.

The king piece sat on the dining table between the two of you, blood already drying on its crown. You found you could look at it now—without the feeling of your whole body going into shock or on the brink of collapse.

Benny sighed as he tied the bandage, sitting back in his chair and not meeting your eye. You had the sudden urge to apologise, but you knew he'd only tell you there was no need. You could see guilt appear behind his eyes, thick and strong, encasing his logical brain that knew he'd done the right thing.

You cleared your throat. "Thank you," You said. Benny looked at you then, his eyes finally letting in the light and shoving away the dark. "Like I said, you kept a piece of him for me. I'm sure that king has been burning a hole in your pocket for a long time."

Benny chuckled softly. "Yeah, something like that."

"I hope I didn't scare you," You let out. It was as much of an apology you could give without it actually being one.

"Scare me?" Benny repeated, raising his brows at you. "Y/N—you terrified me," You hadn't been expecting such an open answer. You'd thought he'd maybe shrug, or laugh, or roll his eyes. Not this. "It was like you froze, like you weren't here anymore. When you opened the door and rushed outside, I didn't know what to think."

"Neither did I," You added, letting out a pent-up breath.

"I'm sorry," He let out, and you heard the worry in his voice. "I didn't know—,"

"You didn't know I would react like that," You finished his sentence. "It wasn't your doing that made me snap in the slightest. I think this has been a long time coming."

Benny nodded once. "I think so, too," He reached out and grabbed the king, rubbing off some of the blood with his thumb. "I've seen you slowly get more comfortable talking about him, playing the game—but I've also seen the moments where you couldn't stand to have thoughts of him inside your head."

You let out a chuckle to try and hide the way your cheeks were gently flushing. You didn't realise Benny paid this much attention to the way you acted. "If you've observed me this well it's only a matter of time before you beat me at chess."

He smirked. "I'm working on it."

You retreated to your room, chess piece in hand, after Benny saw how tired you were. You didn't get into bed, though—you wouldn't be able to nap with the whirlwind of thoughts pelting your mind.

You sat on the floor by the window, your eyes hitting the phone on the corner table of your room. You grabbed it swiftly, punching in a number that you'd known from memory since you were thirteen—

"Y/N?" Your mother said as soon as she picked up. She knew it was you. Your chest immediately felt tight, but after your earlier release, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold back the tears that had begun to well once more.

"Hi, mother," You replied, your voice coming out small and childlike compared to the usual headstrong tone you carried.

"Oh, my dear," She knew you were crying; mothers could sense that kind of thing. "Has it sunk in?" She asked. The most you could do was nod as you felt sobs rise up from your chest. You let out a gasp, the breath catching in your throat, as you forced yourself to inhale.

"He's really gone, isn't he?"

As your mother's silence drifted over the line, you knew she too had a colossal lump forming in her throat.

"Yes, baby. He's gone."

Mother and daughter wept together as the purple skies began to turn a dark pink. It was a moment you'd never imagined having with her, but as your tears fell you realised that it was your fault—it was your fault that you couldn't imagine ever sharing something like this with her.

You'd shut her out, the same way as with your father, but even more so after his death. You'd been so caught up with your own stability that you hadn't even thought about what your mother was properly going through.

You felt shameful, selfish, as you cried together down the phone, but as your tears began to slow you knew that you'd both be okay—

She had her sister, she had you.

And you had her—you had Benny.

You stayed on the phone with her for a while. As both of you let out your sadness together, you moved onto other topics; university, New York City life, the people you'd met. You told her about Benny; how he'd introduced you to Beth Harmon. You told her about Matt and how you were at Maude's cabin—

You told her about playing chess.

"Really?" Your mother said, gobsmacked.

"I never mentioned it before," You explained. "I sort of play now."

"Sort of?" She questioned in her usual theatrical way. It made you chuckle.

"I mean—yes, I play," You fiddled with the phone cord. "I'm sort of good."

"Sort of?" Your mother repeated, but you could feel her smile from the other end of the line.

"Undefeated so far, actually."

You moved your gaze to the door as you heard the familiar sound of Benny knocking. You placed the phone to your chest, yelling that he could come in. As Benny rounded the door you continued laughing on the phone with your mother and her reactions.

"Benny's here right now, actually, Mum—,"

"Well, let me talk to him, then." You sent an open-mouthed stare at the champion, before you stuck the phone out in front of him.

"It's my mother. She wants to speak with you."

You stood as Benny took the phone with an amused smile, placing it to his ear. You paced as you listened intently to his one-sided conversation with your mother—

"No, that's okay, Mrs. L/N,"

"I got his note, yes. Y/N made sure of it,"

His stare hit your eyes as he went silent between sentences. You stopped pacing, breathing steadily as his lip curled into a gentle smile.

"Of course. It would be my pleasure."

You didn't have the chance to ask Benny what she'd said before he handed you back the phone and immediately left your room, clicking the door shut. You said your goodbyes to your mother. She wished you a happy birthday, not revealing anything of what they'd discussed together.

As you placed the phone down, you couldn't stop yourself from grinning. It was ear to ear, encompassing your entire face. Your stomach tingled with butterflies, but they weren't the ravenous type that made you feel sick; they were welcoming and warm. They were happy, and so were you.

Matt and Maude were back when you emerged into the living room. The three of them sat with glasses of red wine. Matt gave you a quizzical smile as you sat on the floor, pouring yourself a glass from the coffee table.

"What's that smile for?"

You didn't realise you'd still been beaming. "It's been a good birthday," You replied, taking a sip of wine.

"That's what we like to hear," Benny said. "No thought of the inevitability of death and getting older, then?' He joked and you involuntarily rolled your eyes at him—it had become a habit.

"I just knew you'd be someone who hates birthdays."

"Not all birthdays, just my own." He replied. You were reminded of how shy he'd got at Monte's on his 28th, hiding his small smile behind a clenched jaw and only giving into the shots because of the noise you'd all been making.

You glanced at the chess board on the floor, the pieces still fallen from when Benny had been thinking about your father's chess piece. You reached out, grabbing the white king and placing it upright.

"Let's play." You said it with a finality that you'd never had before when it came to chess. You were usually never the one to suggest a game, yet you'd done it more than once while at the cabin.

As Benny sat opposite you and Matt rubbed his hands together in anticipation, you thought about the conversation you'd had after your breakdown—

I think this has been a long time coming.

You'd spent four months pushing down the inevitability of bursting. The sadness, the anger, the love—all bubbling inside you as you went about, day to day, trying desperately to ignore it. You'd see the back of your father's head in crowds and get flashes of his casket as dirt was thrown upon it—you'd hear his voice in your classes and block your ears out from fear that he would approach you, sit, and ask you about chess.

But now—

You wished, more than anything, that he could have seen you—

Sat opposite a World Champion that he'd beaten more times than anyone, except Benny, could count; about to play against him for the umpteenth time—

And win.

-

Amanda called on Christmas day, screaming a carol down the phone as you, Matt and Benny winced. You drank eggnog for the first time in your life, almost immediately throwing it back up— "It feels like slime," You stuttered, as Matt and Benny almost cried with laughter.

Maude made three pies, all a different flavour.

You all exchanged small gifts and cards, sat around a tree that Matt and Benny had chopped down three days before the 25th.

You didn't ponder on the fact that it was your first Christmas away from your family—without your father. Instead, you'd talked, ate and drank all day, more than you thought you'd ever done in such a short time, simply enjoying the company, the landscape, the warmth.

You'd all decided to head back to the city before New Year's, after Amanda had yelled down the phone about wanting to go to Monte's and 'enter the New Year in the right way.'

On the 27th, Benny's Beetle was packed with all your belongings once more, as everyone stood on the porch to say goodbye.

Maude encased the champion in her arms, straightening out his hat when they pulled apart. "I'll see you next year, dear,"

"Or earlier, if Matt would let me come here whenever I wanted." Benny said, shooting a smirk at his best friend. Matt deposited himself between him and Maude, giving Benny a glare as he turned to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.

When it was your turn, Maude took both of your hands in hers, smiling with subtle sadness. "It's been a pleasure, Y/N. I'll be listening intently to the radio at tournaments, just in case your name is said,"

You laughed at that, appreciating in her sweet words. "We'll see," You replied, encasing Maude in a hug before you made your way to the car.

You were silent for most of the drive back, as a melancholy feeling washed over you. You knew, as you crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, that you'd never forget that month spent at Maude's cabin. You'd learned more about yourself than you'd thought possible; you'd realised that Benny's level of care and support for you was astronomical; you'd gelled with Matt even more than you had before Thanksgiving—

You felt loved, properly, actually loved.

You felt like you had a clear path of what was in front of you for the first time since leaving secondary school.

Benny dropped Matt at his apartment first. Matt waved goodbye as the Beetle trudged along the dark streets of lower Manhattan. There was a comfortable silence that flowed throughout the car, but as Benny approached your apartment block a feeling washed over you—

Sadness.

You were going to be sad, not waking up to him and Matt every morning. Not having a coffee with Maude as you looked out over the lake on another beautiful day—

God forbid, you were going to miss him—

Which was such a stupid thought that it almost made you laugh. He lived five blocks away from you—you saw each other multiple times each week and called almost every evening.

So why did you feel so sad?

Benny put the Beetle in park, but he didn't turn to look at you. You could see him in your peripheral vision, just sitting, staring out beyond the windshield, thoughts racing beneath his skull.

You were the same, unmoving as you wracked your brain for something to say. When you finally spoke, it was at the exact same time as him—

"Do you—," "What did—," You each said in unison.

"You first," He said, finally turning to face you. You sent him back the same stare.

"What did my mum say, on the phone call on my birthday?"

Benny let out a breathy chuckle, his eyes not leaving yours. "She asked me to take care of you, if or when you need it." He said it so easily and clearly that you almost didn't know what to say. You thought back to his response that day—Of course. It would be my pleasure.

For once, you embraced the warmth that began to spread in your chest. You let it run down your arms, your legs, your fingertips. You let it consume you as you kept your eyes plastered on his, a small smile curling onto your lips.

"Oh," You chuckled out happily. It wasn't a bad oh. It was one full of surprise, full of appreciation. "You go, now."

Benny turned, placing his hand on the steering wheel and tapping it with his fingers. You knew that look—a wheel in the absence of a coffee mug. He was about to say something that he felt exposed about. You sat patiently, waiting for him to speak.

"Do you want to have dinner, before Monte's on New Year's Eve?" When he'd finished speaking, he looked back at you. It was the most gentle face you'd seen Benny adopt. His eyes were soft, his mouth was curled in the smallest of smiles. He didn't look pressuring or scared—

He looked like Benny Watts. The World Champion chess player who had bombarded into your life in the saddest of circumstances, but had altered that life to be so full of light that you thought it might blind you one day.

"I'd love to." You replied.

You didn't look back as you made your way inside, even as you heard Benny shift gears and drive away, but you felt his stare on your back all the way to the entrance of your building. Subtle, but supportive. Not pressuring, or overly protective.

You dropped your bag on the floor as soon as you entered your apartment, your eyes immediately grazing upon the chessboard box on your windowsill. You strode forward, grabbing it and placing it on the floor in your living room. You opened the lid, grabbing your father's board and placing it beside the clock.

You placed the pieces, all except for the black king. You plucked the king from your father's last game from your pocket, staring at it as is gleamed back at you.

You placed it on his board, completing the full set.

You didn't cry, or choke on your breath—

You simply smiled, as a comfortable aura settled over his board forevermore.