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BENALEXLUTHOR
xxxxdo you want to, do you want to
xxxxdo you wanna make love to me?
xxxxI know you want to, baby, I know you want to
xxxxI know you want to make love to me
xxxxI came to tell you that you're my favorite girl
xxxxxxxxxand would you like it if I put you into my world?
 Oh, hell no.
If Ben was so ******** selfish, then why did he just practically give up rights to his own goddamn kid? Why had he told Blair to go and marry the man she wanted to instead of ruining her marriage only to force her into yet another cycle of hook-ups and break-ups, heartache and misery? Huh, Nate? Because obviously Ben didn't care about anyone. Yeah, that made a whole lot of sense. But he couldn't tell Nate that. He couldn't go back in and hiss the words he was dying to say, he couldn't hit him back, he couldn't do any of it. But he could go and try to at least make some things right, to try and rescue some respect for Bella. It would be useless, but hey, what was the harm? The worse that Nate could do was beat the s**t out of him again, and he'd lived through it once. According to Nate, if he killed him, no one would even care.
So he made possibly one of the worst decisions in his life. And he's made a lot of bad decisions.
Turning around and going back inside the hotel, he spotted Nate drowning in self-pity and alcohol towards the bar. Despite the slightly cynical and not at all romantic views Bella had expressed towards marriage and love, Ben figured he might owe her even a desperate attempt to make Nate reconsider his harsh words. "You think I'm the selfish one here?" he asked, leaning his side up against the bar next to Nate. "You have a crushed ex-fiance upstairs, yet here you are, drinking and feeling sorry for yourself," he rolled his eyes. "You know what, Nathaniel? If you really loved Bella, you'd get over this. And I know, I've never loved someone, blah, blah, blah. You want to believe that, fine, I don't really give a s**t, I'm not going to explain or apologize for my romantic history for you," he said, unsure of the words that seemed to be right at the tip of his tongue. "But I know that this sure isn't love. You would be upstairs, trying to make things right. But you aren't, Nate, you aren't," he pointed out, knowing he was probably just digging himself in a deeper hole.
But he'd already put himself six feet under...what could a few more shovels of dirt hurt? "So maybe you and her aren't meant to be together. Because if you were, it wouldn't matter that she kissed me and all those sluts I'm sure you've cheated on her with wouldn't matter," he rose his eyebrows at Nate. "It just wouldn't matter," Ben repeated simply with a shrug of shoulders. "If you knew that at the end of the day, no matter what she did or who she ********, you knew that it was still her you wanted in the bed next to you, then it wouldn't matter," he told him, hoping to strike a chord and make Nate realize that maybe he was once. Shocking concept, yes, but Nate Crayford was still human. He could still be wrong, he could still make mistakes. "But obviously it does, and maybe it's only that way because it was me you caught her with and not some random guy, but the fact remains that you can't see past this to realize that that beautiful girl upstairs loves you enough to give up all the other men and promise to be yours forever," his voice fell quiet, eerily serious for him. This wasn't him. He should be spewing sarcastic, hurtful comments, attacking him back verbally, not physically. He shouldn't be make a plea for love. What the hell was he doing? Had Nate hit a little common sense into him?
Back to old Ben. "So you want to let this ruin what you thought was the love of your life, then I guess it'll be you that's never happy, Nathaniel," he told him. "Want to hit me again? Feel good about your pathetic excuse for existence? Go ahead, I don't give a s**t anymore Nate. Because I like my life. I like not being the a*****e drinking at the bar before noon because he was dumb enough to fall in love and shockingly enough, it blew up in his face," he said, shrugging his shoulders, holding up his hands to give Nate free aim if he wanted it. His phone started buzzing in his pocket and he dropped his arms, pulling it out to read Blair's text. What?
what is there left to talk about b?
I was just planning on leaving the hotel, actually.
long story.
well, not really. but I don't want to go into the details.
where are you?
--ben
"Oh, and you know what, Nate? If all I am is a ******** to girls, then at least I'm a damn good one," Ben asked, cocking his head slightly to his side, tasting blood on the tip of his tongue. "And that's a hell of a lot more then you can say," he said, spitting out the blood swirling around his teeth onto the carpeting of the hotel floor. He turned, starting to walk away before yelling back to Nate over his shoulder.
"For the record, Nate, I have been in love before. Not that you ******** deserve to know the details,"
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