#BEN acting so chill for something like this is a major red flag

[fricc-darn]

What if B.E.N's s/o proposed on them getting married? What would be B.E.N's thoughts and feelings on that exactly?

The distant trees danced in tandem with the wind. You watched on from your porch as the colorful autumn leaves fell and coated the ground. Smiling at the serenity. The occasional squirrel or bird came in, gathering materials to prepare for winter. Life for them must be simple. Moving instinctively, harboring no overwhelming complex thoughts or feelings.

You adjusted the thick blanket draping over your frame. Your hand reached for the mug of tea from the railing. Sinking deeper into the warmth of the chair, you sipped the steaming tea. The squirrel that captured your attention darted to the base of a neighboring tree. Awaiting its companion, hurrying down the tree trunk.

Flickering tails, small hands grooming fur, and sharing gathered nuts was bonding in its simplest form. The simplicity you dreamed of. You took another sip of your tea, chasing a currently unattainable comfort that was substituted through superficial means.

Perhaps it wasn't as complicated as you made it out to be? Overthinking is not lost upon you in this relationship. It was just a question. A nice and easy one when you ignore the weight the question holds and the logistics. However, the two of you have been together for so long, the question was bound to come up at one point.

Would BEN want to get married?

The silly notion had you giggling. You imagined BEN all done up in a suit or maybe even a dress with a ring in hand. The excitement of a non-traditional wedding. A fanciful fairytale you wanted to entertain, but reality put a damper on your imagination. BEN would say no; being tethered was something they hated. Or they would say that weddings are just an event to flaunt materialistic goods and fit into a social role. If the question irked BEN enough, they would become dangerously hostile.

With a heavy heart, you sighed, your breath visible in the cold. Trying wouldn't hurt; your persistence got you this far, for better or for worse. You were offering a group of spirits who hardly lived a fulfilling life, an opportunity many dream about. The chance BEN agrees is just as high as rejection. Downing your tea, you watched the two squirrels run off into the bushes in your peripheral.

The leaves rustled. Nature's wind sang along with the birds. A well-known chill nipped at your warm flesh.

"There you are." BEN whispered, walking onto the porch. A bit surprised you were out in the cold staring at nothing. Were you planning on running off? You learned how ineffective fleeing was long ago. To BEN's relief, this wasn't the case.

Your eyes locked on the base of the tree where the squirrels were. Keep it simple. The hold on your mug tightened, siphoning the heat radiating off the ceramic. Embracing the silence, keeping your breathing slow and steady. Carefully, you spoke your mind. "BEN, you believe in fate, right?" Anxiously biting down on the inside of your cheek.

BEN raised its brow and glanced at you, following your stare at the tree. Its eyes followed the horizon above the setting sun. In the blend of oranges, blues, and pinks laid a pale full moon. Its eyes softened momentarily at the moon. "I suppose I do in a sense... Whether through science or religion, everything is predetermined through cause and effect."

Its mellifluous robotic voice soothed your worries. Its longer, profound responses were always a treat to hear. Reclining in your seat, you contemplate peering into the fluids of the mug as if it were a crystal ball. Your reflection nervously stares back at you through the tea. "Do you think fate brought us together?"

BEN didn't answer. There was no reason to. You knew the answer.

If you weren't who you were, you wouldn't have survived for so long.

If you had never downloaded that file, your paths would never cross. 

If either of you had lived your lives any differently, none of this would happen.

Your back straightened, sitting up to place the mug on the railing. Swiftly turning in their direction. "I want to marry you, BEN." 

Its gaze yanked away from the moon at your words. BEN's eyes widened. A subtle blush appeared on its warm-tawny skin. Marriage? That's one of the last things on their minds, if at all. Tempted to shoot down the offer on a gut reaction, they instead thought and discussed. The longer BEN stayed quiet, the wider its grin grew.

Funny how things change. You used to be such a difficult, useless thing. Expecting you would take your life in a matter of days. Now you're their long-term lapdog asking for marriage. So admirable! 

Yes, marriage is just a label, but what that label represented is what interested BEN. A door of new possibilities had just opened! Relishing in your growing anticipation of their response. BEN lowered its head, angling it at an inhuman angle. Its face deteriorated into a poorly generated mess of features. "Is that the fate you wish for? To be mine forever?" BEN cooed in a glitchy voice, hiding the underlying malice in its question.

Fixing the blanket that slowly slid down your body. You bunched it up to protect yourself from the cold. You nodded confidently, ignoring the internal anxiety BEN's theatrics triggered. Staring on, the sun set behind BEN, giving it a soothing glow. "I do. Besides, being stuck with you isn't anything new." Secure in your response, a lighthearted chuckle slipped past your lips. Your cheeks reddened from being flustered and the cold. Something about BEN could be so calming at times.

The blanket flapped in the gust of wind—a stronger, colder breeze that made you squeal. Debris and leaves scattered across the wooden porch. Unphased, BEN drew closer, grazing your ear with its lips. "Your words are set in stone." Its face returned to its regular smile.

BEN tucked away the strands of hair that flowed in the wind. Seeing you tremble like a leaf, it inwardly laughed. That charm you had continued to be ever so present. Picking up the mug, BEN headed back inside. With little thought, it put its arm over your shoulder with a comfortably firm grip.

"Come now. It's getting late."