|Through A Window
Author: Draculaluvsamy PM
Ben Linus reflects on his life through a window, and the woman he loves. Pre crash. Mindless DribbleRated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - Ben - Chapters: 2 - Words: 3,125 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 06-13-07 - Published: 06-05-07 - id: 3576993
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Through A Window
Ben looked longingly out of his study window, over at her house, which was almost directly opposite his. He had chosen it for that reason. The curtains were drawn across the windows, no doubt to stop him looking in. But he could still see a pale glow of light coming from the house. He let his own curtain fall back into place.
He looked around gloomily at his own house. The table was still set. She was supposed to come to dinner that evening. He still hadn't given up hope that she would come. He could remember when she had come to dinner every Saturday evening – no excuses. She'd come with a smile, and a laugh that would lift his heart. They would joke together and she stayed long after the meal was over. Since Goodwin she'd been coming less frequently, and when she did come she seemed awkward, sullen even, and she never stayed longer than she had to. Then the meals had dwindled down to nothing, and she stopped bothering to make excuses. They both knew the real reason she didn't come anymore. And part of it was Goodwin.
He moved to the table, with its two matching plates, the ones she had fallen in love with, the two matching wine glasses, two matching sets of cutlery, the one almost melted candle in the middle of the table, a mere stump. The lasagna he had spent so long preparing, putting so much care into, to get it exactly how she liked it, lay on the side in the kitchen, cold and soggy untouched. Next to it was the unopened bottle of wine, in the almost melted ice bucket.
He stared into the candle momentarily, before extinguishing the flame between his finger and thumb. The house was thrown into darkness. He moved back to the curtain quickly, resuming his most frequented haunt. He pulled the curtain aside once more, gazing over to her house, where the light still shone. Two houses down from hers, the lights also shone in Goodwin's house. This made Ben feel slightly better, because if one house was dark it meant they were together. Touching. Kissing. Goodwin touching the woman Ben loved. If he hadn't seen them go into their own houses separately he would still expect them to be together, even if both sets of lights were on.
The stars were unusually bright that night. He hated the fact that she had reduced him to watching on, as another man touched her. He hated the fact that he had been reduced to watching her, from his window like a jealous child. At least they weren't spending the night together. It was probably due to him. He was always there, interrupting, knocking, disturbing, pretending he had urgent matters to discuss. Neither he nor she could hide their anger at each other, it showed clearly on their faces, yet Goodwin was oblivious, only showing a hint of annoyance as night after night his love making was interrupted by his boss.
Of course, she didn't care if he was the leader of their community or not. Every time he showed up on the doorstep, she would tell him with forced politeness that they were busy at the moment, and couldn't it wait until morning? This made him angrier because he knew she was naked under her robe. And he couldn't have her. That's why he would appear three of four times a night, as he would 'remember' something that couldn't wait. She was always very polite in front of Goodwin.
The next day would be different of course. He would turn up at her lab, watching her for a few minutes, while she didn't realize he was there. Then he'd make himself known, with a cough or a knock or a simple 'hey'. Then she would yell at him, no longer sweetness and smiles. And then nine times out of ten, they would have hot, angry, passionate sex right there on the floor, knowing all to well that Goodwin could walk in at any minute.
When they were finished she would tell him that she hated him, and go back to her work as if nothing had happened. But they both knew she loved it. He was better than Goodwin. He could tell by the way she moaned his name over and over and over again. He wondered if she ever called his name when she was with Goodwin. That would be an awkward situation for her. He wondered what Goodwin would do if he found out that she was cheating on him with her ex.
Ben often wished that Goodwin would walk in on them, so he would know that she belonged to Ben and only Ben. It would be so gratifying to see the turmoil that would show up on Goodwin's face. Fighting for her would mean going against him, Jacob and the island. Ignoring it, pretending as if nothing had happened would mean losing her, and this was one Ben had already been through. It was pure agony.
There had been no sex that day. She had stayed in the house all day, and he had only caught glimpses of her as she walked past her windows. She had come out at 2:38 for 7 minutes to talk to Adam about something he couldn't hear. She had seen him though, watching her from the window, he didn't try to hide what he was doing. Not once did he take his eyes off of her. She couldn't hold the eye contact; a frown had crossed her beautiful face, and she had gone back inside, rather faster then she normally would have done. She had pulled the curtains on then, even though it was still daylight outside. Adam had waved cheerily to Ben, not realizing anything was wrong, and not waiting for a response. He wouldn't have got one.
The pale glow suddenly disappeared from her house; she had turned the lights off. For a few moments he struggled to make out the house in the darkness. He glanced at his watch, it was twenty to eleven, she must be having an early night.
She looked so beautiful when she slept. He had stood over her, many times, just watching as she slept. She didn't know he was there, she didn't know that her locked bedroom window could be opened from the outside – she didn't know that she wasn't safe behind her keys.
And she didn't know that she called out his name in her sleep.
She wanted him.
He wanted her, he craved her, he needed her. He needed her more than anything else in the world. He wanted her know, to hold in his arms, something they never did in the aftermath of their lovemaking. He wanted to make love to her know.
He let his curtain fall back into place one last time. He slipped out of his front door, closing it quietly behind him. He stalked quietly over to her house, keeping to the shadows. He skirted round the edge of her house, to her bedroom window. He had memorized it's position a long time ago, he could have found it blindfolded. The window was already open, almost as if she was expecting him. The sweet scent of her spilled out into the night air.
In the gloom of the interior he could make out her huddled form beneath the covers. Quietly he hoisted himself through the window, careful to make as little noise as possible. She didn't stir. He padded softly across the carpet to the bed, and got in as smoothly as possible so he didn't disturb her.
Under the covers he reached out with one hand and ran it slowly down her back. Something was wrong though. She was too… soft. He whipped back the covers to reveal three pillows in the shape of a sleeping body. A piece of paper was pinned to the middle pillow. Hand's shaking with anger he ripped the note off of the pillow to read:
"Sorry Ben, tonight I'm sleeping with Goodwin."