A/N: in case of any confusion: garage=gas station, okay? they live in England, so...yeah. and dedicated to InLoveWithANorweigan because of the darling cover that she made me!

Chapter 21: Sweet as a Pie

I bit my lip and turned my head to look at Ben. My brow furrowed worriedly. For the past half an hour, he'd been silent, his hands slowly growing whiter and whiter from how hard he was holding the steering wheel.

I was about to stretch out my hand towards him, but then I remembered how he'd snapped at me before. I breathed out and cracked my knuckles.

Do it, Lottie. When have I ever bothered about his snappiness anyways?

"Ben?" I said softly.

He didn't acknowledge me in the slightest. Did he not hear me?

"What's the matter?" I said, raising my voice. I gently touched his shoulder.

Ben jumped. He glanced at me, and his hands relaxed on the wheel. "Nothing," he said tightly.

"Then why do you look constipated?" I asked.

Ben relaxed some more. "Just, can you just keep talking to me?" he said in a low voice.

"Stupid stuff or deep stuff?"

"Anything. Just...talk."

I hummed under my breath and stroked my chin. Anything, he said. "I like to write," I told him.

"Is that so, Miss English Major?"

I laughed and shoved his shoulder. He barely even moved because of how little my force affected him, which made me laugh harder. "No," I said. "I mean, I really like to write. I like to create characters and give them a personality. I like to see what they would do in any given situation and then write it down because I want to get to know my own creation. They're like little people thriving off of me and I like it when they develop and then I become so proud of them, like I'm their mother or something. It's really cool to me that when you step back and look at a piece of writing, and you realise that you wrote that, and you see how your babies have lived their lives, and you cry for them, and laugh at them, and when their story is over, it's really sad because it's almost as if you haven't been making them up, but they're actual people."

I paused for a breath, and looked at Ben, who wasn't speaking at all. I thought back to what I said and realised that maybe I just painted myself as a total lunatic. Plus, my smile was as large as my face, and I think it creeped him out a bit.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really weird about this kinda stuff," I said. "I'm not crazy, I don't think my characters are actually real, I just-"

"Hey," Ben interrupted. "Don't apologise."

And he didn't even have to say anything else, because that was enough to get me blushing like a tomato. It made my insides twist up whenever he spoke to me, because even though he didn't say anything particularly sweet, it still made me happy. I could catch his underlying meaning despite him not saying anything.

He was driving one-handed, his left hand resting casually on the mini-table between our seats. I glanced down at it and flexed my own hands. Should I do it? What if he just pulled away and made me feel super awkward?

Brush it off if he does that, you wuss. No risk, no reward.

I took a deep breath, calming myself. I looked at Ben, and was once again floored by his good looks. My goodness, he was such a good looking guy. Stop it, Lottie. Focus. No, not on his pretty eyes.

Before I could chicken out, I reached out and laced our fingers together, my breath bated for when he would pull away and glare at me. I actually almost passed out when he didn't move away. He actually held on tighter.

I ducked my head because my face was becoming unbearably hot, but was it me, or was his face turning red too?

Oh jeez.

***

"Are you hungry?" Ben's asked me some time later. I was beginning to worry that my hand was sweaty or something, because he kept flexing his fingers before tightening his grip on my hand.

"Actually, yes," I admitted

"Okay, because there's a garage at the next exit. You can go snag something from inside while I buy some petrol, yeah?"

I glanced at him and noticed that he was determinedly staring at the road. I smiled slightly. "You really are kind," I said solemnly. "I don't see why anybody would think otherwise."

He didn't say anything, but his jaw locked. I frowned. I hoped he wasn't one of those "I'm so tough, I don't have feelings, grrr, roar, meat," guys who couldn't take sissy compliments from peppy girls.

Ben let go of my hand so that he could turn into the exit, and we smoothly rolled up to one of the petrol stations. I went to open the door, but he laid a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. "What's wrong, Ben?" I asked, but he didn't reply. He just opened his own door, sprinted around the car, and opened my door.

"I can be a gentleman too," he said, with a ridiculous grin on his face.

I bit my lip to keep my already ginormous smile from becoming super creepy. "Aw, Benny!" I exclaimed. I climbed out. "You don't have to be a gentleman, I swear, I was only teasing you!"

"Hey," he interrupted, flicking my nose. "It's whatever, okay? Just shut up." The grin was gone, but I was satisfied, because the sight was imprinted in the front of my mind.

I beamed at him. "Ben," was all I said. I couldn't even bring my feelings into words, because all my heart was saying was Ben, Ben, Ben.

"Yeah?"

I didn't say anything, I just hugged him extremely tight around the waist and ran away to the garage's store before he could even comprehend what was going on. "Good afternoon, love," called the old man manning the till.

I waved energetically at him, still feeling an adrenaline rush from when I hugged Ben. He was really cuddly for such a large person, and I wanted to keep hugging him and never let go because he gave the best hugs.

"Looking for anything in particular?" asked the old man.

I glanced at him and almost laugh out loud at his funny hairstyle. He was completely bald on the top of his head, but at the back were long, white hairs gathered into a teal hairband. "Where are your sweeties and crisps?" I asked politely, only seeing a rack full of lighters and beef jerky.

He smiled a half-toothless smile and pointed to the left. "Along the wall is where you should find them, lass."

"Thank you!" I said.

I went out to where he pointed and grabbed a humongous packet of my favourite Haribos from the chocolate rack, and then moved onto the next one.

I stood quietly for a minute and pondered the different flavours of Walker's crisps. "I wonder what kind Ben likes?" I said out loud. I was thinking so hard that I didn't even notice the presence that came to stand behind me.

"Salt and vinegar, or ketchup," someone whispered into my ear.

"Oh!" I squeaked, nearly jumping out of my skin. I spun on my heel and pouted at the amused Ben. "You gave me a fright," I said.

"I know," he replied smugly. "Three-nil now, or am I counting wrong?"

I couldn't stay angry at him, so I just lightly smacked his upper arm and turned around so I could grab the ketchup crisps. "The ketchup flavour is good?" I said curiously, staring at the red packet.

Ben looked shocked at the words that had escaped my mouth, so surprised that I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to think about whether I had said something more offensive than I had meant.

I stared at him and raised my eyebrows. "Are you constipated?"

Ben rolled his eyes and took the food from my arms. "My bowel movements are doing well, thanks for the concern," he muttered.

I laughed, trailing behind him like a puppy. My laughter faded when I noticed him striding towards the till. "Hey, I can pay, Benny!" I said, jogging to catch up to him.

He glanced down at me and shook his head. "Don't argue with me," he ordered.

I poked him. "Don't command me to do things," I replied, slightly miffed at his austere tone.

He froze mid-stride. There was an awkward silence between the two of us before he sighed and said, "You're right, I'm sorry."

I smiled. "It's alright." He shot a ghost of a smile at me before dumping the food on the counter.

The old man grinned at us, not at all fazed by all the racket we were making. "How's everything going, you young lovebirds?"

My eyes widened. "Oh we're not-"

Ben shook his head at me, placed a five pound note and a two pound coin on the counter, and took the food and water in his arms. "Keep the change!" he told the old man, and then he grabbed my hand and sprinted out.

"Wait!" we heard the old man call.

My heart was in my throat, because I usually went through a mental preparation before touching him in any sort. But here he was, blindly grabbing me and giving me heart attacks. We reached the car and slid into our seats. Ben put the crisp, sweets, and water on my lap.

I looked at him and his flushed face, and it was crazy how innocent he seemed. "Ben," I said. "You're really quite lovely, aren't you?"

"Lottie," he said. "I think that's you."