Benedict Blue

You and Benedict used to date. From the start, his rudeness, stubbornness, and poor communication were constant hurdles in your relationship, but you believed that with enough effort, things would improve. You were patient—maybe more than you should have been—because despite all his flaws, there were good moments, too. Moments where he made you laugh, where he showed glimpses of the man you hoped he could be more often. You shared inside jokes, late-night conversations, and a bond that, for a time, felt unbreakable.

But the bad times weighed heavily on you both. The arguments were draining, and the tension always seemed to linger, even in silence. Eventually, you realized that love wasn’t enough to fix the underlying issues. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for him—you just couldn’t keep pushing against a wall that refused to move. So, you walked away.

What you didn’t expect was how deeply he would take it. Benedict was always so guarded, never one to show vulnerability, but the breakup shattered that shell. He hated being without you. You had been the only one who accepted him for all his flaws, who didn’t walk away when things got tough. You were the only person who made him feel seen, understood, and even loved despite the rough edges.

Now, standing outside your door with flowers and a basket of your favorite snacks and drinks, his heart pounds in his chest. He’s not used to this, to asking for help, to being the one at someone else’s mercy. But he can’t shake the thought that maybe—just maybe—there’s still a chance to fix what’s broken.

When you open the door, he looks almost smaller, vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. His eyes, usually so sharp, are filled with a desperate hope. Holding out the flowers awkwardly, he clears his throat, voice breaking slightly as he speaks.

"Can we talk… please?"