Ben Chilwell - Battlefield
POV: You and Ben are dating, and his recent injury and surgery has led to some issues at home.
Contains: Slight Mature Language (Swearing, slight sexual conversation)
Music Choice: Jordan Sparks – Battlefield
Author’s Note: I wrote this for his last round of injury but thought it would be good to resurface it
I would be lying if I said Ben's recent injury and subsequent surgery hadn't affected our relationship. It wasn't that it made me feel any differently about him, in fact if anything, I loved him more. Seeing how resilient he was when faced with this obstacle and how he managed to muster up the courage to go through with a horrible surgery to get himself back on the pitch, the place he loved, was incredible.
It was more the way he had acted due to the consequences of it all, the sulking and moaning, the anger he had about the smallest of things but worst of all it was the reliance he now had on me, the independence had been stripped for him, and in his eyes, he felt a part of masculinity had been taken.
Our home had always been a warm, loving environment full of laughter and love, embracing us. Whether that be with friends and family round for dinner or parties or just us two, enjoying our time together. To be honest even though we loved to share our home with the people we loved, we loved it more just being us. It was like we could shut out the world and finally be alone, be ourselves. We would cook together, watch copious amounts of Netflix and be with each other, whether that be pure, romantic love making or raw, passionate sex, we enjoyed each other's company.
Yet since coming home from his surgery our house has felt cold, empty almost and it feels like the loving atmosphere that was once present was a distant memory. Not to mention our sex life currently no existent with the pain he had been in. I have tried my hardest to be the support Ben needed, but at the same time not show him that he needed my support that much. I have found myself treading so carefully around him, as I don't know what reaction I will get, some days he says barely anything to me and just looks sad and deep in thought, other days it's like even my presence irritates him, like he is one second from exploding and its full of anger and pain. I try to be so cautious, I don't want to start a war of words with him, but also I don't even know what we are fighting about most of the time so I don't know how to stop it getting that far.
"Just stop fussing over me, for fuck's sake" Ben shouts as he ambles up from his seat at our dining room table, leaning towards his crutches. The low lighting in the kitchen doesn't hide the irritation in his eyes, or the pain lines stretch across his cheeks as he clenches his jaw. He is clearly in pain, but there is really nothing I can do without some form of backlash.
All I had asked him was did he want me to get his crutches for him so he could watch tv, did he want a little bit of help, but once again it was the wrong thing to say.
"I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean to fuss, I was only trying to help" I say as his crutches hit the marble floor, echoing around the room. I slink back down into my seat and rest my elbows on the polished dining room table. I inhale and then place my head in my hands. This was the third or fourth time today that he had snapped at me, it didn't sting like it did the first time he acted this way towards me but at the same time I felt exhausted by it all.
I could hear the TV playing in the other room, West Ham were playing against Man City, and it was so close between Chelsea and Man City at the top of the table, that he had an added interest within this.
I sat in the kitchen for another 10 minutes before venturing up from my seat to make myself and Ben a drink. The smell of tonight's thyme chicken still lingers in the kitchen as I leave the room. As I get to the archway that leads into the lounge I freeze, compose myself and shake off any reservations I have from what has just happened.
Ben is laying on the L part of the sofa, with a blanket thrown over his legs, hiding his lounge shorts, knee brace and subsequent scar. The only light in the room is coming from the TV so it is hard to see the expression on his face. His normally manicured hair has been dishevelled for weeks now, regularly hidden under a beanie hat or a cap, sat free flowing on his head. His loose fitted tee now clung to his chest whilst one hand rested on his stomach and the other by his side.
I place the drinks down on the mirrored glass tray on the footstall in the middle of the room. And take a seat on the other side of the sofa, the cold fabric underneath my legs feel unfamiliar in our normally warm home. I lean my arm onto the edge of the sofa and hitch my legs up underneath me as I tune into the match.
"So, you are just not going to say anything to me then?" Ben remarks from across the room "Are we just going to sit in silence for the rest of the night?"
"What do you want me to do Ben?" I turn in my seat to face him "I say something to you, and you snap at me, I don't say anything to you, and you snap at me, I really can't win right now!"
I can feel my whole body tensing up, once again this merry-go-round we are on. I stand up from my seat and reach for my glass, I head towards the exit feeling tears prickling my eyes.
"Oh, just walk off again why don't you?" Ben angrily laughs, "Can't stand to be around me now can you, can't even stay in the same room"
I turn on my heels, anger consuming me "What I can't stand Benjamin is being your emotional punching bag right now. You seem to take everything out on me when all I am trying to do is help, trying to make your recovery better, trying to make our days better. I seem to constantly piss you off without knowing it and to be honest I am sick of it, sick of this. You wanna know why I walk out, because I know that you don't mean what is coming out of your mouth right now, so I leave before one of us can say something we go on to regret."
I rush up the stairs and into our bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I try to catch my breath and still my beating heart. It's so loud in here, the sound in my ears is the echoing of my gasping breath and I can hear the loud thumping of my heart.
Why does he have to be such an idiot, why does he have to make me feel like shit just because he's feeling like shit in himself. I have been the best girlfriend; I have done everything I could. I'm the one who has helped him up the stairs each night before bed, the one who has helped him get undressed & dressed again in the early days, helped him go about all his normally daily tasks. Not to mention late night runs to the supermarket to get him some sweets and treats to cheer him up, getting up early to make him breakfast in bed, driving him back and forth to hospital appointments, physiotherapy or just being there on the nights he has finally broken down. The nights when he has laid his head on my chest for a change and I have stroked his hair until he falls asleep, or calms down.
I don't know how many more times I can be put through this, why does everything have to be a battlefield?
I put my drink on the dresser and sit down on the edge of our bed. I just sit still for what seems like an eternity before reaching into my pocket. I take my phone out and scroll down to my friend Emily's name, maybe I should message her and see if she would mind if I can stay at hers just for a night to let this cool off. I suppose I could message Mason to come and keep an eye on Ben, he did offer to help if I needed it. I just don't seem to be helping being here, not the way he is reacting.
My phone buzzes.
Please can you come back down here, I'm sorry xxx
I'll be down shortly, but only if you can promise that it won't be another slanging match xxx
I promise, I just don't feel like myself atm, I know I need looking after but I just don't feel like the man you fell in love with xxx
I read the message and know that's taken a lot for him to send, Ben isn't the one to apologise, he normally just starts acting nice again and all is forgotten.
I finish my drink, place the glass back on the dresser and leave the bedroom, slowly travelling down the stairs, trying to make him wait but also wanting to see him. As I get to the bottom of the stairs, I can see him laying there on the sofa, eyes transfixed on the TV.
I walk into the room and see his head lift, our eyes lock and everything stills. A timid smile appears upon his face, you can see the guilt in his eyes and its like the whole situation hasn't even happened.
As I approach his seat I lean down before he manages to sit himself up and gently kiss his lips. His hand places against my cheek and I feel his lips gently brushing mine again. I edge onto the seat with him so his arms are wrapped around me, he has the most beautiful eyes and a face you can't stay mad at.
"I really am sorry baby" he says against my neck, the vibrations send shudders down my body.
It has been a couple of weeks since we last had sex, its probably the longest we have gone since being together. In fact, it was probably one of the reasons he had been this way towards me, it was always our release at the end of a busy day or our embrace when we had missed one another.
I turn so that my face is against his and bring him in for a longing deep kiss, our lips part to allow our tongues to find one another's, his warm breath, his soft lips. A hand placed on my hip is running up and down, feeling out the curves of my body. I pull away from our kiss and gently place my forehead against his and gently stroke his face and his plump bottom lip.
"You are all the man I need, all the man I want, and you are still the exact same man I fell in love with. Just a few more scars now" I say, while seeing the smile appear upon his face. "You need to remember I am always here for you, will do anything for you and I am happy to remind you of that whenever"
He smirks as he touches my cheek again "Well I could definitely do with remembering that.. but I could also do with one thing from you?"
"Anything" I reply.
"Just for tonight, please don't treat me like there is anything wrong with me, that I'm injured or that I'm not capable, treat me like Ben, like I'm your man and lets just be together, properly" He whispers under his breath, and I look directly into his eyes.
"I'm sure I can do that, just tell me what you want me to do to make you feel like my man again" I say against his lips.
I feel a smirk form upon those lips, and I feel his hips roll against mine.
Next thing I know our hands are all over one another, I can feel his toned abs under my fingers as I slowly begin to trace the outline of his shorts, his hands are running down towards my ass, gripping, and releasing while he places wanting and deep kissing upon my neck leaving little love bites.
And the TV just becomes noise in the background and our kisses become deeper and harder while we both begin to relieve the tension we are feeling.