If I Could

{70} - Don't Lose Your Head

"It's good! I like it, thank you," she said before taking a bigger gulp.

"This one's for you, Ben. More of your beloved rum," Gwilym handed Ben his glass.

"Thank you," Ben said and Gwilym walked away. The drink helped calm his nerves but he still felt stiff and awkward around Belle. It was different this time. They were not in the psychiatric hospital. They were not at work. They were not wearing their white coats. Anyone would think this atmosphere would make him more relaxed but he felt the opposite way. Her shiny blonde hair, her deep dark brown eyes, the smell of her lilac perfume, those were the things he couldn't appreciate when they were working and now it was all coming to him at once. It was all just too much. Perhaps he should drink more if he wants his love for Belle to stay out of his mind.

Around thirty minutes later, Belle started to feel a little lightheaded, and her vision blurred. She could hardly see and what she could see was weird. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to understand why she was feeling the way she was feeling.

"Are you okay?", Ben seemed to notice Belle's uncomformity.

"Yeah, I just feel a little lightheaded," Belle chuckled, opening her eyes again.

"Oh, me too. It must be the alcohol kicking in. I think we should stop drinking," Ben suggested, placing Belle's glass on a table.

"I'm thirsty, I'll grab a glass of water," Belle smiled strangely and vividly. Ben didn't know Belle could be so cheerful when tipsy.

Belle stood up and walked toward the kitchen, but she couldn't walk straight. Luckily no one saw her because all the guests were busy making out with their partners. She rested her back against the wall, but the wall was moving. She found that funny. She could feel it shifting, but Belle pressed more firmly against it because walls are solid and shouldn't move, right? It didn't work. The room began to spin again. Belle decided to go upstairs, not even bothering to ask Gwilym for permission to lock herself momentarily in one of his rooms.

Ben saw Belle climb the stairs, and he decided to go check on her, no matter how awful he felt. He followed her, clinging to whatever his hands could reach in order to not fall. He entered the room where he knew Belle was, and he found her sitting on the edge of the room's bed. She had a faint smile on her face, the golden glow of a corner lamp throwing orange all through her hair.

"Belle, how are you feeling?", Ben questioned as he closed the door again, music now muffled behind it. He placed his hand over the bedpost in order to keep himself steady, but his hand felt like it sank into the wood, so he decided to lie down because he truly had no strength in his limbs.

"What the hell?", Belle chuckled when she saw Ben laying on the bed. "Tired already?".

"No, but I feel like crap. I'm too drunk."

"I feel like crap too. But that doesn't stop me from being happy. Because happiness..," Belle paused her sentence, closing her eyes to take a deep breath. She felt like her head was floating. "Happiness is a choice. No matter if I feel on the verge of dying. I choose to be happy. You should be happy too."

Ben narrowed his eyes. Her logic was weird and didn't make sense to him.

Suddenly, something unexpected happened. Belle crawled into the bed, and she climbed on top of Ben, her thighs nestling on either side of his hips. Ben's heartbeat shot up so high that he was surprised he wasn't dead. What was she doing? Of course this was a dream come true to him, but he was sure Belle wouldn't be doing this if she wasn't drunk, so he tried to stop her from doing something that would make her lose her head once she hears it later:

"Belle, I think you're too drunk. Lie down. Maybe you'll feel better. I feel better. At least my vision has focused again."

"No." Belle kissed Ben. It was immediately intense, and Ben kissed her back with the same force because God, this was the girl of his literal dreams. Their tongues were dancing and fighting against each other, and Ben only knew that he would be so angry if this only happened to be a dream. He wrapped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her in, until the moment he realised he didn't have the amount of control he wanted to have so he asked Belle to switch positions.

"Roll over, Belle, onto your back," Ben asked with a breathless voice.

"Yeah?".

Ben nodded, pushing against his front until Belle's weight fell off him. As Ben maneuvered Belle backwards onto the mattress, she found herself fascinated with the feeling of the sheets rubbing against her skin. It was something she had never experienced before at all. Somehow, all of her senses were enhanced. Even her breath running ragged in her lungs felt special. Actually, every single little thing felt better. Ben started to trail kisses down her neck, mouthing gently at her skin. Both the feel and sound of him pecking sweetly into her skin made her feel so in love, even if she didn't remember being in love with Ben ten minutes ago. But nothing mattered in that moment. The amount of happiness and pleasure she was feeling was overwhelming.

"Are you sure you won't regret this?", Ben asked as soon as Belle started unbuttoning his shirt.

Belle giggled and kissed him again.

"Ask me tomorrow."

-------------------------------------------

Just as promised, Roger was in Garden Lodge, but he was met with an unexpected setback:

"Belle's not here yet, Roger," Freddie announced as stroked his chin, coming back from his daughter's bedroom.

Roger frowned slightly, thinking Freddie was wrong.

"But we are supposed to go out tonight."

"I'm as surprised as you are, but no, she isn't here, but I think I know who could help us know about her whereabouts," the singer said as he picked up his sitting's room telephone.

"Who?".

"Mailen, her best friend," Freddie dialed her number, and waited a few seconds for her to answer the call.

"Hello?", Mailen picked up the phone.

"Hello Mailen, it's Freddie, Belle's father," Freddie greeted. "I was wondering if Belle's with you."

"Uh, no," Mailen denied. "I thought she was with Gwilym."

"Who's Gwilym?".

"My brother. He works with Belle. He's hosting a party at his house right now."

"Do you think Ben could be there as well?".

"Oh, definitely, they all work together."

Freddie sighed deeply. "All right, thank you."

"You're welcome," Mailen ended the call.

Freddie looked at Roger with heaviness.

"Don't lose your head at what I'm going to tell you, but I think she's with Ben."

"There's only one way to confirm that," Roger uttered.

"What is it?".

"We need to call Ben's wife, Michelle."

Freddie handed Roger the telephone.