A Little Bite of Magic Goes a Long Way (BxB)

4 ~ Matt

Ben took the doctor's suggestion far too seriously.

He forced me to stay in bed for almost a whole day, even though (except for the bruises on my chest where he'd hit me) I felt fine.

When he finally allowed me to leave the bedroom, he hovered like a mom over an accident-prone toddler learning to walk.

"Ben! Shtop!" I protested, mouth full of toothpaste, as he stood watching me that night, as though afraid Pete might try to shiv me with my toothbrush or something. "Pede snot g'na hurd me 'gain."

"What?" he asked, squinting.

I spat, rinsed my mouth, and turned to face him. "I said, 'Pete's not going to hurt me again.' He didn't want to hurt me at all. He just wanted to kill me so I could talk to him."

I turned back to the mirror, reaching for the floss.

"I told you so," Ben said. "I told you he was trying to kill you, and you didn't believe me!"

I rolled my eyes. "You said he was trying to kill us." I corrected. "He wasn't. And he knew you'd save me. He never wanted me to actually die."

"How do you know that?" Ben asked, crossing his arms in the stubborn way that means he's digging in for the fight. So much for taking it easy.

"Because he told me," I said, exasperated, spinning to face him again. I'd explained several times already, or tried.

"You had a... a... ' near-death experience,' or something," Ben said, waving his hand. "You don't know if any of that was even real. You probably imagined it."

I gaped at him. His refusal to believe was bordering on denial at this point.

"If I imagined it, how do I know exactly what you said and did when you found me, and why can I see ghosts now, just like Pete wanted?"

Actually, I still wasn't sure how the whole 'seeing ghosts' thing worked. I'd seen them in all the windows when we got back from the hospital, as if they were welcoming me home; but once I'd gone inside, there'd been no sign of them—not even Pete—and I'd seen nothing since.

"I don't know," he said. "You know me—you can probably guess what I'd do in most situations. As for the ghosts... Maybe you were just... a little excited. You know... seeing things." He waved a hand again.

"Ben! Do not do that to me!" I shouted, near tears with frustration, and pushed past him out of the bathroom to flop onto our bed.

Our room is on the third floor. It's filled with a huge old four-poster bed and—like the rest of the house—a collection of antiques. An old Persian rug covers the floor, and a dark cherry-wood dresser I found at an estate sale sits to one side. The wallpaper is covered with a delicate blue-and-white pattern, and beautiful crown-molding joins the angle between the ceiling and the walls. Usually, I feel calm and safe in this room—it might be my favorite place in the house—but right now I can't even appreciate the way the hand-made lace curtains move in the slight breeze coming through the open window. I'm too upset.

"I'm just trying to help you!" Ben shouted back. "Babe, I just want you to be normal!"

I sat up slowly, and I could tell from the look on Ben's face that he was already regretting his choice of words.

"Urgh!" he groaned, running his fingers through his short dark hair. "You know what I mean, Matt. I want you to be okay."

"I am okay!" I insisted. "The doctor said—"

"I know what the doctor said," he interrupted sharply. Then he sighed and came to sit beside me—a bold move, given my tendency to be scratchy when I'm mad—and went on in a disarmingly gentle tone. "Matt—babe—I know you're okay, and I am so, so grateful for that. If you weren't okay, I wouldn't be okay, okay?"

I was confused, but I nodded anyway.

"It's just... this stuff scares me. With Ari, and... well, you know how much danger we've all been in because of magic and that kind of shit. I don't like you being a part of it. I just want... I want..."

"You want simple, boring, PR-consultant Matt who doesn't know that witches, vampires, and—yes—ghosts, are real," I said, fighting back tears.

"No! Jesus, Matt—I love you! I love you, whatever you are. I'm just afraid. I don't...I don't want to lose you."

"I don't get it," I admitted, sniffing. "What's so bad about me being able to see ghosts, and having some kind of 'inner light' gift thing?"

"Because I  don't!" he yelled, making me start. "I'm not a hot vampire, or a wizard, or—or anything." He drew a shuddering breath and went on in a quieter tone. "I'm just a man, Matt. How am I supposed to protect you if you're something more?"

I stared at him. "You're not, Ben," I said, both touched and offended that he thinks I'm someone he needs to protect. "I can take care of myself, and if I can't, we're friends with a bunch of powerful witches and vampires. I'll be fine."

He made a face, but then he smiled.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching over to stroke the side of my face. "You're right. I worry too much. You'll take care of me, though, right? If any ghosts show up?"

"Promise," I said, and leaned to kiss him. I had a feeling this 'argument,' or whatever it was, wasn't really over, but for the moment I was happy to let it lie.

I was tired, barely controlling my emotions, and ready to leave my problems—including the dead ones—for tomorrow.

Crawling beneath the covers, I turned out the light. A moment later, Ben joined me, spooning himself to my back, one arm holding me against his chest.

He always fell asleep that way.

And I always waited until he drifted off to slide away from him.

Because he always held me a little too tight.