The Beginning From The Finished Line
1239 Words
Ella's Point Of View
By the end of the first day, I was pacing my room like a trapped cat.
By the end of the second, I had convinced myself he’d either ghosted me permanently or died somewhere dramatically.
Honestly, I didn’t know which thought stressed me more.
I tried distracting myself.
I tried reading.
I tried watching something on my phone.
I tried yelling into a pillow. None of it worked.
So of course, that was the exact moment Bennett Hale showed up.
He didn’t knock.
Oh, he never did.
He just appeared in the hallway like a villain in a low-budget movie.
“Ella,” he said with that smooth voice he probably practiced in the mirror. “You look lonely.”
“Or maybe I look busy.” I shot back, attempting to sidestep him.
He blocked me.
Actually blocked my ass.
Like he f*****g owned the air.
“I heard Kenny left,” he said, stepping closer.
“He does that. Leaves things unattended.” His eyes dragged over me in a way that made me want to take a shower with bleach. “I could treat you better, you know.”
“No, thanks,” I said quickly. “I’m good. Great, even.”
But he kept coming closer, one hand lifting toward my cheek. And that was it.
I slapped his hand away so hard my palm stung. “Don’t touch me.”
He raised a brow, amused.
“You’re loyal. Cute. But loyalty doesn’t keep you warm at night.”
“I said, don’t”
“Ella.”
The single word came from behind us, and my whole body froze.
That was Kenny.
He stood at the end of the hallway, still in his coat, eyes sharp and dangerous.
For a moment, neither man moved.
They just stared at each other, the air between them buzzing with full, undiluted hatred.
Then Bennett smirked.
“Look who decided to return.”
“Leave,” Kenny said quietly.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t yelling.
But it felt like the walls leaned back to give him space.
Bennett lingered a moment too long, running his gaze over me like he wanted Kenny to see it. Then he walked away.
I exhaled shakily.
“Well. That was fun. Ten out of ten. I would never like to repeat.”
Kenny didn’t even smile. He just stared at me, unreadable.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
I blinked. “You left for two days without saying anything.”
His jaw tightened.
“I had business to attend to”
“Business,” I repeated. “Great. Good. Clear as mud.”
He stepped closer, but I held up my hand. “No. You don’t get to disappear and show up as if nothing happened.”
His eyes flickered something like guilt, or maybe exhaustion.
“You’re right.”
He muttered.
Those two words did something strange to my chest, but before I could answer, he turned and walked away again.
He left me standing there feeling like my heart had been put in a blender.
***
I didn’t expect him to come to my room later.
I definitely didn’t expect him to knock softly. He was knocking like he was asking permission to exist.
“Ella,” he said on the other side of the door, his voice low. “Can I come in?”
I hesitated then I opened the door.
He stepped inside slowly, like he wasn’t sure I’d let him stay.
His hair was messy. His eyes were tired.
And for the first time since I’d met him, he didn’t look like Kenny-the-unreachable-CEO-lord-of-ice. He looked human.
“Why are you here?” I asked quietly.
He cleared his throat to speak. “I didn’t leave because of you.”
“Well, you didn’t stay because of me either.” I snapped at him. He's the last person I want to see right now.
He winced. Actually I winced. Then he stepped closer until we were inches apart.
“Ella.” he breathed, “I made a mistake.”
My heart thudded. “Which one? Because I have a list”.
I wasn't done talking when his hand cupped my cheek and then his forehead dropped to mine.
“I was afraid,” he whispered.
That stunned me still.
Kenny, afraid?
The same man who walked around like fear was something other people experienced?
But he didn’t give me time to ask. His lips brushed mine so gently that it broke something inside me.
“I missed you,” he murmured.
My breath caught in between. “Then why”
“Because wanting you feels like losing control,” he answered.
“Well.” I whispered, “You lost it already.”
A rough, humorless sound escaped him, almost a laugh, almost a groan.
And then he kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands sliding into my hair, pulling me closer until my body melted into his.
There was no coldness.
No distance.
No anger.
Just need.
Desperate, raw need.
He lifted me, carrying me to the bed without breaking the kiss.
When he laid me down, his eyes were soft in a way that made my chest ache.
“Ella,” he said, voice shaking slightly, “let me have this. Just tonight. Let me be with you.”
I didn’t answer with words. I pulled him down to me.
His mouth worshipped every inch of me.
His hands were gentle, almost reverent, as if he thought I might disappear.
He kissed my throat, my shoulders, the inside of my wrists slowly, like he was memorizing me.
“Kenny,” I whispered, and he shuddered.
“I’m here.” he breathed against my skin.
And he was completely, painfully here in a way he’d never been before.
He moved with a tenderness that stole my breath.
Every kiss felt like a question.
Every touch felt like an apology.
Every whisper!
“Ella,” felt like a confession he didn’t know how to make out loud.
And when I cried out, he held me as if his heart were breaking with mine. My name left his lips like a prayer.
When it was over, he didn’t pull away.
He didn’t leave like he usually did.
He stayed beside me, gathering me into his arms as if that were where I belonged.
His face was buried in my hair. His breathing was uneven.
I didn’t speak.
I didn’t dare.
Because if I did, something fragile might shatter.
I fell asleep like that, wrapped in him, drowning in questions. “Was this real? Was this him finally opening up?”
Or was it just another one of his carefully crafted illusions?
***
I woke up once at night. Just once. Kenny's arms were still around me, strong and warm.
But he wasn’t asleep. He was staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched, eyes haunted.
“Kenny?” I whispered.
His hand tightened on my hip, but he didn’t look at me.
“Ella,” he murmured, voice breaking, “Don’t ask me anything tonight.”
I didn’t.
I just rested my
head against his shoulder and closed my eyes again, pretending not to feel the panic beating under his skin.
Because whatever was inside him, whatever secret he was carrying, it was tearing him apart, and I could feel it inside of me. .
- Writer
