Two Sides of the Same Coin

by Alexandra Yukino

With the absence of the warm pair of arms that had once encircle her bare waist, the heat and weight of a chest pressed to her back, and the soft kisses that peppered her neck which had also filled her ears with breathless moans during the wee hours of twilight, Beth clutched the king close to her chest and succumbed to yet another fitful slumber.

2. Scent

In his smoke-filled apartment, Benny Watts sat in front of an open chess set, a cigar slowly burning away between his slender fingers, as he stared at the chess pieces that was arranged the same way the Times reported of how the new USSR Champion, Elizabeth Harmon had layed out to defeat the long time, previous USSR Champion Vasily Borgov.

As Benny pensively stared at the arrangement, of which he had been doing so for the past 3 days, he couldn't help but feel proud and respect towards the petite red head, that not long ago he had continued to win against countless rounds of speed chess at a student cafeteria, was able to continuously astonish and surprise him with each feat she would accomplish.

But it is also at his dining chair that Benny spent majority of his waking hours, patiently waiting for that ringing sound that would eventually carry the voice he'd been longing to hear to call his name, ever since the last time they spoke before the owner of that melodic voice had gone away again, far from his reach.

He knew that there was a slim chance she would. After telling her to never call him again, she had kept to her end and hasn't once ringed him even when she had been alone in facing the people they had once worked together against.

It had been him that couldn't stay away, that couldn't stand to leave her by her lonesome. So he did everything that he could, including for paying the most expensive phone call he would ever do and gathering people from different parts of the country to help the woman he couldn't seem to let go.

And here he is yet again, day by day by the phone, waiting for something that might never happen at all.

With a deep inhale of his cigar, Benny puts it out on the metal ash tray by the chess board and saunters over to his bedroom, his robe swaying side to side along his low hanging jeans.

As he reaches the door frame, he pauses at the entrance as his nose takes in the sweet-like fragrance that should have disappeared months ago and stirs up the memories and feelings that seemed to come along with it, as his mind is once again overtaken by the memory of a small, lithe body entangled in his sheets that was once enclosed in his arms, a small back pressed to his chest, and an expanse of soft skin that seemed impossible not to pepper with kisses for hours on end.

Running his fingers roughly against his blond tresses, Benny looks up towards the ceiling, his breathing heavy as his hands grip his hips tightly that crescent marks could be seen with how hard his nails were digging into his skin. Benny closes his eyes tightly as his arms drop to his sides and drags his feet towards the bed, falling face first against the springy mattress and releases a heavy sigh.

Turning towards the rumpled sheets, Benny drags the material towards his chest and breathes in the supposedly non-existent scent, which eventually lulls him to sleep. His dreams filled with a certain ginger haired woman, whose doe-like eyes seemed to keep drawing him in, releasing the feelings he had been repressing and willing to hide after the countless rejections of being and belonging with him.