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After that heart-wrenching confession of the death of someone he loved, I wasn’t expecting to receive anything from Bench except tears and pleas for comfort. I sure wasn’t expecting him to reach for me again and kiss me.

                Not that I was complaining. I would by lying if Bench’s full lips didn’t taste sweet against mine and that I didn’t eagerly lean closer to him to feel him some more. I didn’t understand where this sudden desire for Bench’s touch came from. Hours ago I was still convinced he was gay and now I was here, in my room, kissing him like I had been wanting to do so for ages.

                Bench reached and tangled a hand in my hair, gently tugging my head deeper into his and I let him, my hand gently fisting around his shirt, pulling him closer. He ran his tongue down my lower lip before teasing it gently between my lips asking for entrance and I let him, for the love of everything holy, I let him, my own tongue seeming to have a mind of its own as it eagerly came out to greet his.

                We were a tangle mess of lips, tongues and hands before I remembered his story at the back of my mind and I pushed him gently away again, using both my hands against his chest.

                I was surprised to see him raggedly breathing as we parted, as if he hadn’t wanted to stop (and honestly, I didn’t want to myself, but someone had to be the rational one here). I was more than a bit pleased and smug to see his eyes had darkened with what looked like desire for me. It pleased my ego that I could elicit that response from anybody.

                But it still didn’t excuse all the issues that were laid out before the two of us now.

                First, Bench was a vampire. (Wait, what? I’ve been reading Twilight too much. Let me try again.)

                First, Bench was not gay. (There that wasn’t too hard to say, was it?)

                Second, there was a part of him, and I didn’t know how dominant that part may be, that could possibly have the hots for me. (Okay, close enough)

                And third, third, third, well, I could say I was unconditionally and irrevocably hot for him too. (Oh my god.)

                I mentally slapped my forehead. Now I have to compete with a dead girlfriend for his undying love and affection. How do you compete with that?

                “You don’t.” Bench spoke in that deep voice of his, eyes serious and face unsmiling. (Did he really sound like that? It was way better than his high pitched voice that was for sure)

                “Thank you.” He said again and I had to wonder if he could read my mind, just like Edward could. Then I mentally slapped my forehead again when I realized that I had been saying most of these aloud.

                He smirked at me now, but that expression still didn’t leave his eyes. Still dark and very brooding and unlike the Bench I knew and came to love at all.

                Bench sighed and ran a hand through his hair like I knew he did when he was frustrated.

                “Liv, don’t do this.” He said, not looking at me, but at my toy frog conveniently named Edward and he was glaring at it as if it harboured all the evil in the world. I found myself clutching Edward more protectively. His lips quirked at my actions but he quickly cooled his features. I did not like this brooding Bench at all. It was Edward, or maybe even Legolas, who could pull off that brooding look without looking constipated and tortured. To Bench it just looked sick.

                He ignored my thoughtful expression and plunged on. “Don’t compare yourself to Ellie. You two are very different.” He met my eyes this time and he was serious, no hint of mirth or amusement in his features. I quickly translated his words into: You can’t measure up to the dead girl. So give up.

                I felt the hurt cross my face but I quickly composed it. Of course, Ellie would still be the one for him. Bench had willingly pretended to be gay so he could get over her death, but it hadn’t worked. She was still in his mind. I could not blame him. There was nothing about me that could probably measure up to perfect Ellie, whether she was dead or not.

                I swallowed hard, and I found myself hugging Edward tighter to me. What I thought would be a nice fantasy and a wonderful surprise after all my years of yearning was nothing short of a blip. I was too naive to think our story would be like a romance novel. Damn my stupid fantasies.

                Something in my expression seemed to catch Bench’s attention because his eyes suddenly softened and one of his hands tentatively reached for my cheek, (this time it was the swollen one) and I flinched. Partly because my cheek was still sore where Jan the bastard punched it (Yes, I have converted to start calling him how Bench called him) and partly because I didn’t want to want Bench’s tender touch too much if I was going to lose it soon. Oh how we wasted our friendship and closeness only to have this gulf between us.

                “...you need to stop.” Bench was saying and I had to blink because it seemed he had been talking and I completely missed it.

                “Come again?” I asked, tilting my head in question and I was rewarded with Bench’s uncharacteristic half smiles.

                He leaned closer again like how he did before we kissed for the second time and breathed in my face, his breath still smelling surprisingly of Listerine.

                “You’re very different from Ellie, Olivia.” He said in a serious tone but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “And that’s what I love about you.”

                I blinked. Somehow I knew this was very different from the times we had “confessed” of our undying love for each other countless times before this night. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because I was having a groupie moment; I was threatened to succumb to this overwhelming feeling of pure and unadulterated joy expanding across my chest. Bench told me he loved me!

                But I couldn’t keep the thoughts away from nagging my mind. I saw Bench saw that and he let a sigh between his full lips before looking at me again. “Why can’t you believe me? What is it?”

                I looked away, though it was very difficult with our foreheads leaning against each other and our hands intertwined. But somehow I managed to do so, looking down at Edward’s synthetic fur, trying to stem my tears again.

                “I’m afraid you just love what you see.” I gulped, suddenly words were too difficult to pronounce and I had to gulp several times before pushing forward. There was no way this boy could be meant for me.

                “I’m a very good actress you know,” I whispered almost too painfully, reluctant in letting him know that what he probably saw was what I wanted everybody to see about me and that when he did get close enough to see the real me, he would just leave when I had trusted him the most, like what others did, like what Jan did. I closed my eyes and braved myself to continue.

“What you see about me might not be the real me.” I say in soft words, not having the strength to elaborate further. I hadn’t had the heart to tell him that I wasn’t the damsel-in-distress I showed everybody, I knew for a fact that confident guys like Bench (he’s a guy! I still can’t get my mind wrapped around this one!) Didn’t like too independent-minded girls to be with them.

Call it sexist, but this is the Philippines where the Pinoy macho thing practically dominated this country like a plague. I couldn’t continue to be the timid, passive Liv everybody believed to be. I fought back like others, I just had my own ways, and I was more discreet. I don’t think a guy like Bench (again, he’s a guy? Really?) would appreciate me for that. Add also the fact that I can hardly act feminine and girly unless I had Melai’s help. No guy liked a boyish, little girl right??

                I felt the tears come and I quickly blinked them away. I was strong enough not to succumb into more self-pitying tears. Not in front of Bench. Not in front of whom I trusted more and was most comfortable with. Not anymore.

                “You wouldn’t like what you would see about the real me, come to think of it. I’m not exactly FHM material you know.” I ended, giving him a watery smile, a failed attempt of humour.

                A frown crossed his face and I could see he was thinking over my words and understanding the logic behind them. Yes, he was smarter than most guys I met and I was friends with Santi, (a child-genius) and Bench would understand what I was implying. He would understand and he would pull away and we would go back to what we were before. Though I wasn’t really sure if we could go back. Everything was so confusing.

                But then, Bench gave a tiny shrug before coming closer so that it wasn’t just our foreheads that were touching. In fact I was sure the only thing that weren’t not touching were our lips and I had an ample view of them if I looked away from his eyes, which were much too close, and much too sparkly.

                “You’re beautiful.” He whispered and that smile, the smile the Bench I knew came out. I found myself smiling but shaking my head quickly after. “Aww, come on. I know you’re kidding. No time for jokes like that, Benson.” I lamely teased, using his whole name.

                Bench sighed again before pulling away from me, so that we were no longer touching. I found myself longing for his touch weirdly enough. He looked away again; well he looked back at Edward the frog as if it could give him some answers before looking back up at me again.

                “I’m not joking.” He started and before I could get a word edgewise, he continued. “You’re beautiful. Not only outside but inside. Your beauty’s different from Ellie’s. She was like wildfire, very difficult to control; you are like the sun, constant but burning the brightest. And I know what I see.” He took a breath and by then I was too stunned with his comparison of me to the sun to say anything.

“I see and know that your favourite book is actually Lord of the Rings, and not Twilight and you pretend its the latter because its the one everybody has read and it’s easier to gush and talk about something everybody knows about than bore them with foreign facts. I know you love the smell of detergent and you smell freshly laundered clothes in your closest before putting them on. I know you ate that dark chocolate Melai gave you just to be polite but your favourite flavour is fruit and nut. I know you bounce on the spot when you’re excited, purse your lips when you’re pissed off and bite them when you hesitate. You don’t wear necklaces but prefer bracelets or anklets. You have had a crush on Orlando Bloom since you were in first year high school and wouldn’t mind getting into a threesome with him if the other would be Robert Pattinson. You have had a secret desire to have your hair dyed with either Barney purple coloured or electric blue coloured locks and have green or purple eyes. You can’t stand it when people interrupt you while you’re reading but love to interrupt others while they’re doing it. You love hearing what everybody else is doing as much as you want to be heard and understood. You give out hugs because you try to tell everybody that you love receiving hugs without being too obvious and you love it when people compliment you that you do a great massage.” He paused and looked at me as if daring me to contradict him, but I was still too astonished to say anything.

                “You don’t see that I see you try to hide your personality to fit others because you try so hard to please them. I know you control your temper even when it deserves to be released. I see you take care of us without asking for our thanks. I see your eyes scream for a sign of appreciation from the rest of us, I see you crumble a little each time you are disappointed. I see you as the stronger sibling, being the pillar for Viggo when he falters. I see you being the mature one in the group, forgetting that you’re still very young and that you try to compensate it with your stuff toys and your groupie fanaticism over movie stars. I see you settle with the idea of the Liv that everybody has and I see you afraid whenever people try to get closer to see the true you, afraid they wouldn’t like what they see. You think I don’t know you, but I do.”

                By this time, I was crying. I didn’t even know why I was doing so, but I was crying. I didn’t know anybody noticed. And I didn’t know it was all true until Bench laid them down for me to see. I didn’t know I was so happy that he did so. I didn’t see him reach over to me again and gather me in his arms, placing my head on his chest and his arms secure around my whole body, Edward the frog wedged tightly between us; I was too busy bawling out. Did he really know me that well? Had I been too obvious?

                “Only to me,” Bench said and again, much to my chagrin, I had said the last question out loud. He coaxed my face and I bravely looked up to him, throwing caution as well as the remaining pieces of my dignity out, just glad that somebody finally understood me completely.

                “Liv,” he whispered and I could hear the tender emotion in his voice as he said my name. “You helped me.”

                “I don’t...” I tried to choke out the words through my tears but there was no need because he quickly shushed me.

                “You helped me accept Ellie’s death.” He whispered and I heard his voice crack when he said her name and I tightened my grip on him, showing him I was there. “I allowed myself to be a different person around you, not realizing I was just returning to the person I was before her death. I was happy again, just being with you. I may have been pretending, but the happiness was genuine. You brought me back with your kindness, your silent suffering, your strength. You and your stubbornness was what made me realize I was a wimp and utter fool to keep clinging to a past that wasn’t going to change.” He dropped his head onto my shoulder and he stayed there, and the overwhelming gulf of pain was suddenly present again.

                “Grieving for a loved one does not make you a fool Bench.” I whispered, wanting to comfort him again.

He shook my head against my shoulder before straightening up to look at me again. “But not moving on and letting myself mope in despair does.” He said firmly.

“I’m here.” I whisper, reaching out to touch his cheek and I was surprised to see him close his eyes and lean towards my palm, as if he savoured my touch. “I’m here for you, Bench.”

He sighed, and it was contented. “I know.”

And just like that we were okay again. We needed no more words because we already said what was to be said and all that was left to do was bask in each other’s presence. Or so I thought.

“I’m in love with you.” He whispered in my ear as we stroked each other’s hair and back. I jolted like I was electrocuted and pulled out from his embrace to look at him.

“Seriously?” I couldn’t help asking and his face relaxed into the happy, mirthful Bench I had grown to know and love. Wait, what? I just said love. I love Bench!

“Seriously.” He said after he calmed his chuckles down. “And I could be your Edward Cullen.”

I gasped. He did not just say that?!I looked up at him, his eyes sparkling in pure mischief. And something else. A joy, a pure ecstatic joy that threatened to burst from him because he had finally come out of the closest. Pun intended.

“You can’t be Edward.” I said firmly, and the smile disappeared from his face. “Edward is a fictional character and I’d rather much have it if my boyfriend is a real person.” I said in a dignified voice, my lips twitched, but the blush of embarrassment spread across my cheeks in seconds. I didn’t know I could be so, so, slutty.

Bench just gave me that arrogant smirk of his, before pulling me closer by the waist so our chests were touching. I blushed harder when I realized my breasts (or my lack of it) were pressed upon his chest. I hadn’t realized that Bench was a respectably ripped guy. I can’t believe I went for so long believing he was gay!

“Olivia Antoinette Lopez,” he said mock-seriously before the grin spread again. “Did you just call me your boyfriend?” his eyebrows were arched suggestively I resisted the urge to laugh. This was Bench all right. Serious and Humour mixed together deliciously.

“Why, Benson Thomas Aquino, are you saying you’re not?” I tried my hand at being cool about it but just felt more embarrassed. Suddenly I was very shy again. “I-It’s okay i-if you don’t want to..I was just...well..caught up in the moment and...”

“Shut up fuck buddy.” Bench interjected sharply I was startled.

“You did not just call me...” now I said my face heating up of anger instead of embarrassment, but Bench, typically Bench, chose that time to grab me by the shoulders and kiss me into silence. Needless to say, I succumbed quickly, even when he leaned forward and I arched back, close enough that I was almost lying down on the bed with him on top of me. Can’t say I was too opposed to the idea. To think Bench would be the guy I was willing to be caught by Kuya Viggo like this, that was saying something.

“Bench?” I asked rather breathlessly when we parted and we just remained embracing each other on the bed; Bench lying down beside me, my legs wedged between his own, my head resting on his chest, his hand tracing small patterns on my back. I stayed silent, contemplating before I said anything again to embarrass myself I did not realize Bench had stopped playing with my back and was looking at me seriously.

“Could you please tell me what you’re thinking before I get mad?” he demanded and I recognized those lines. I looked at him surprised before returning his smug smile.

“Well, I was going to ask you to be Edward for tonight. You know, just for fun.” I said sheepishly. What? I can’t help it. I wanted my fantasy, though this reality was much better, that didn’t stop me from trying to relive it just for a while. I blushed madly.

Bench smirked, not at me, but at my words. “Typical Liv. Already making demands from her boyfriend and asking me to be another guy, when I’m perfect.” I slapped his arm at that and he winced before continuing. He snuggled closer to me again, as if he never wanted to let go, and frankly, I didn’t want him to. His head was resting in that crook of my shoulder he loved before he said anything.

“Fine. I will be Edward.” He said rather reluctantly, I giggled. “But I won’t watch you sleep. Am not an immortal vampire and I’d rather not have Viggo burn me to death despite him liking us to be together.”

I leaned back so I can see him. “Kuya Okayed us?” I said rather disbelievingly and he smirked again.

“Why did you think he allowed me to be close to you even when I was pretending to be gay? He wanted us to be together, said we could help each other and shit.” He snorted, maybe because he was grudgingly admitting that my brother for once had more sense that he did. That was funny.

“Language.” I scolded gently, and he smiled again before returning to his previous position.

“Did you really mean it?” I asked after a few more minutes of blissful silence.

“Mean what?” he asked, his voice muffled as his snuggled his nose into my neck disrupting my focus.

“Bench.” I said, putting a hand to stop his ministrations. (Oh my god, I just said ministrations, like a raunchy novel!!) “Stop distracting me.” I said then proceeded again. “Did you mean what you said about being Edward for the night?”

I heard Bench sigh and he straightened up, sitting up on my bed. He had a look of pure tolerance and faint amusement on his face that I knew he wasn’t angry with me. “Yes, I did.” He said those words as if they were physically difficult for them to say it and I had to laugh as I sat up. He sighed roughly again before continuing.

“Do you have any idea how painful it is trying to refuse you when you plead with me this way?” he asked and I had to smile that he knew the lines. After all, I did force him to read the books at one point. So I did my best Bella imitation and grabbed his shirt bringing him close to me, my eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, Bench? Please?” I ask and my voice was filled with desperation that I was sure would make his Drama club proud.

Again Bench roughly sighed but he was being such a good sport, I wondered if this thing we have was something short of miraculous.

He looked at me, eyes glinting with amusement. “Heaven forbid the person who created the atrocity that is Edward Cullen making men worldwide try to appease that image of perfection.” But he smiled at me and I knew this was how Bella must feel like when she persuaded Edward in doing something he didn’t want to do but was doing anyway. For her. Amen to the power of the female persuasion!

“That would be Stephenie Meyer.” I answered proudly smirking this time.

He looked at me now and reached for my hand, as if that would somehow help him in this ordeal he was about to face. Poor Bench, but this had been my secret fantasy ever since I read the books and watched the movie and I was determined to place it my own reality. Who knows, maybe I could write it and place it in fictionpress.

“Okay.” He breathed in, as if bracing himself. “I’ll be Edward if you’ll be Bella.” And I had to blush, the groupie that I am. I couldn’t help it! I love Edward and Bella almost as much as I love Elizabeth and Darcy! They were like the It couple next to Branjelina.

I just smiled at Bench and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. This was too good to be true!

Bench looked at me now, and I saw the love that softened his eyes that threatened to turn my knees to jelly. I’ve always thought that was just novelized version of emotion, but I was surprised to feel that it could actually happen. It was a good thing I was seated on the bed already; no need to embarrass myself more in a sudden spurt of clumsiness.

I stared at him, watching with anticipation and amusement at the battle of emotions in his eyes; the pride that lurked there and the obvious love he had for me, demanding he do this for me. And suddenly, staring at his indecision, knowing that he had done so much for me already, I could afford not to indulge in this little fantasy of a book scene to reality. For one, this was real life and I could create my very own novel-worthy drama scene that I’m sure even Bench would be proud of.

So with a smirk, I snaked my arm around his neck and as he opened his mouth to speak those Edward Cullen lines, I placed two of my fingers on his oh-so-soft lips, startling both Bench and myself at my bold actions.

“I..” I started to say all the boldness that possessed me to shut him up disappeared as I met his already very darkened eyes, making my spine tingle with the intensity of that emotion. I knew the blush was threatening to spread to the roots of my hair but I willed myself to be strong and plunge. This was Bench for goodness sake and he pretended to be gay for me! I at least owe him some show of affection and more!

Tightening my arm around his neck, I gave him a tentative smile now, leaning closer so I can smell that minty fresh breath of his toothpaste against my cheeks. “Thank you.” I whispered breathlessly, trying my best to let all my gratitude and love for this friend of mine to show in those words.

And because I was expecting it, I didn’t expect this kiss to be different but it was so much more. It was softer, gentler and much more special. I could literally feel the ocean crashing against the cliff side, the thudding and pounding of our beating hearts as we kissed. I couldn’t help reaching out, grabbing him by the back of his neck and pushing him closer towards me, our kiss deepening. But after that, we just broke out laughing. Broke out laughing because this thing, this thing that was happening to us was nothing we both expected and because we were friends, it was easy and comfortable to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

                This would be something different, I knew. Something to look forward to. And I had Bench with me who would be the perfect person with me all the way. I knew this was going to work, because we both wanted it to. Both wanted it so badly.

                So there wasn’t anything to be said and done that night except sleep. And just sleep in each other’s arms. There would be time to explore more together, to grow more. But tonight, we were both just content to warm ourselves in what we had discovered. So when the lights were closed and we were comfortably spooned, my back to his chest, his hands on top of my stomach, his face nestled again at the crook of my neck, one of my legs intertwined with his, I wasn’t prepared to hear Bench whisper sleepily in my ear before I was fully asleep.

                “I was wrong.” He said rather huskily, making me really glad he was not gay and he was in love with me. Husky, sexy, manly voices were a weakness of mine, and not that I would tell him. He would find out anyway. “I can’t be your Edward Cullen.” He added.

                My eyes opened in the dark, confused by his statement. I turned in his arms so that we were facing. “Why not?” I whispered into the quiet night, not sure if he was still awake to hear me.

                “Because I don’t want a Bella.” He kissed my ear, my cheek and my lips again. I was getting used to this kissing thing. I was actually starting to like it more now. But Bench said something to snap me out of my musings of kissing. “I just want a Liv. And I can only be Bench for her.”

                I smiled in the dark, tears of happiness streaming down my face. Now I know why couples don’t care when the spew out something incredibly cheesy to each other. They were always in the moment and what they said could hardly compare to exactly what they felt. Hence, the tears of happiness on my face. Bench, being so typically Bench, kissed all the tears gently away.

                “And that is all I’ll ever want.”