Ben Chilwell Imagine | seven
Author's note: Just something random I came up with the other day after seeing this post by @lovelynikol16 She wrote it about Mason, but I feel like these days we need some cute and nice Ben content, so I wrote it for him. As always, I hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜
Little summary: Ben Chilwell, the football player you've had a crush on for years acknowledges you on his Instagram stories after you win a gold medal at the Olympic Games, and your friends convince you to slide into his dms 👀
(female reader/pov)
Masterlist
“Oh my God!”
“What… No!”
“What are you two gasping about?” I ask my teammates.
“You won't believe who just congratulated you for your gold medal and said that he is, and I quote, very proud of you” one of them says, showing me her phone.
“Holy shit. Is that… Is that real?”
“Very very real” she says. “Check your phone if you don't believe us.”
“He also started following me.”
“What?” they both say, moving to stand one at each side of me so we can all see my phone's screen.
“He shared that story congratulating me, and he started following me” I say, still not believing what the little notification says.
Ben Chilwell. Ben freaking Chilwell, Chelsea and England National Team player… Has congratulated me for my gold medal at the Olympic Games, said that he is very proud of me AND started to follow me on Instagram.
What… the fuck.
“Girl, you seriously have to slide into his dms and tell him thank you or something.”
“What?” I laugh.
“You've had a crush on him for ages and now he has discovered that you exist and knows who you are. Make your move!” my teammate says.
“I… I can't do that. What if he doesn't reply? What if his account is run by a pr person and not him and I make a fool of myself? What if…”
“What if, what if, what if” my other teammate says, rolling her eyes. “You are just texting him a thank you, not asking him to marry you… yet” she smirks.
“Idiot” I reply, giving her a little push.
“C'mon, send him a message.”
“And what do I say? Thank you for your support?”
“For example” she shrugs.
“Ok” I say, taking a deep breath and starting to type.
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Thank you very much for your support, Ben. It means a lot! ☺️
And good luck for this season, it's gonna be the one! 💙
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“Is that ok?” I ask my teammates.
“Perfect.”
“Now what?”
“Now we just wait for his reply.”
“If he replies…” I sigh.
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“Today we finally had some time off and we left the villa to do some… Mum, I have to go.”
“What? Why?” she says over facetime.
“Something has come up.”
“Something like what? Is it bad? You look… weird.”
“No, no. It's just a team meeting. I'll call you again after dinner, ok?”
“Ok. But…”
“Love you, mum” I say, ending the call before she can say goodbye. And why? Because an Instagram notification that just popped up on my screen, one I had lost all hope would get to see. “Ok, you can do this” I say to myself, taking a deep breath and tapping on it.
Why the hell are my hands shaking so much? Aaahhh!
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Thank you very much for your support, Ben. It means a lot! ☺️
And good luck for this season, it's gonna be the one! 💙
You're very welcome!! 💙
You seriously are amazing. My mates and I watched you perform (if that's the right word? 🫣) and you were fucking amazing 😱
Also sorry for the late reply but we just got back from the US and the jetlag has been kicking my ass 😴
Wow, thank you. You are gonna make me blush 😳
And don't worry, I've been there with the jetlag 😅
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Don't worry, don't worry, but I've been having dreams with him replying to my dm since the day I sent it. And he already is making me blush, but shh.
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Just telling the truth 🤷🏻♂️
Also thank you very much for the luck! We will be needing it this season. Especially me 🙈
Last season was a tough one, wasn't it?
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Of course it was, you idiot. He spent half of it injured!
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But hey, when I was 19 I injured my knee and doctors told me there were high chances of not being able to do gymnastics again, yet look at me right now. I've won a gold medal at the Olympic Games, and I've done it against probably the best gymnast in history!
If I was able to come back, so will you. I believe in you, Ben! 💪🏻
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“I believe in you, Ben… God, I'm so lame” I say to myself.
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Thank you very much 🥺💙
I may have to hire you as my motivational coach or something 😜 How much the hour?
Well, since you play for my team, I think I can give you a discount
Wait, then it is true? Do you support Chelsea?
I read it online but wasn't sure
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Has he… has he been googling me? What?
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Chelsea girl since the day I was born
I actually left the hospital wearing a tiny Chelsea hat and had a matching bib
No way! 😱
Is there a photo? 👀
There is
May I see it? 😇
Ummm…
Please 🥺🥺🥺
Ok, fine
But only because it is you.
If this ends up anywhere online, I know where to find you, Chilwell 🧐
It won't leave my phone, I promise 😇🤞🏻
Also you were such a cute baby!! 😍
And still are
Cute I mean
Not a baby
You obviously are a woman
A cute woman
I mean, beautiful
Women are beautiful and you are a beautiful woman
Sorry 🤦🏻♂️
It's ok, don't worry 😅😂
Thank you ☺️
And same 😉
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Did I… Did I just kind of flirt with him? After he said I was a cute baby and that now I am a beautiful woman? Ummm… hello?
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Am I a cute baby or a beautiful woman? 🤔😜
You are a very handsome man who also happens to be very cute
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There. I said it. I just told Ben Chilwell that he is handsome and cute. Do men like being called cute? Is that a turn off? Urgh.
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Thank you 😳😳😳😳
That's my face right now, btw
What? 😂
You've made me blush 😳
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“Yeah, sure” I snort.
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Photo or didn't happen
I look like shit right now
You don't want to see that
I disagree 🤷🏼♀️
Fine 🙄
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“Looking like shit, he says… You look bloody gorgeous, Benjamin” I say, zooming on the pic. How can someone be this handsome and look this good on a random selfie? It isn't fair.
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That's not looking like shit
Like shit is how I look after training for more than 12 hours
And I can't see you blushing with the beard
Should I shave it?
You won't dare!
Team beard? 😂
Team beard forever 💙
Interesting 🤔
Most girls don't like it
They say it bothers them when I kiss them
Those girls know nothing 🙄
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I mean, if a guy like him is kissing you, who cares if it feels a bit itchy? Also, have they seen his lips? Like, urgh.
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I promise you I will keep my beard for the day we meet 😇
Which length do you prefer?
The one you always have the day before you shave
I hate it when you do that
It gets good and pum
Gone
Also, are we meeting? Since when? 🤨
Sorry 🙈
And I was thinking that maybe I could have a chat with the team and see if I can invite you to pay us a visit at Cobham
Since you are a Chelsea fan since the day you were born, I think it would be cool
A little homage after winning your medal
I've never seen one in real life, you know?
Oh, so you just want to see the medal, not me
Cool
What? No, no, no
I want to see you
And the medal
Both things
But mostly you
The medal is cool but…
God, I'm rambling again, am I not?🤦🏻♂️
A bit, yeah😅
But it's ok, don't worry
Thank you 💙
I do it all the time when I get nervous 🙈
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He is feeling nervous? Him? Benjamin James Chilwell? What? And most importantly, why?
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So, should I ask the team if they are up to it?
Would you like to come to Cobham and have a tour?
Would you be my tour guide?
It'll be my honour
Unless you have a favourite player and want him to do it instead
He just said it would be an honour to do it 🤷🏼♀️
Am I your favourite player? 😏
No
Try to fix it now 😜
Anyway, I'll keep you updated, ok?
Ok
😘😘 (Imagine they have a beard 🧔🏻)
😂😂🥰
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“Wow” I say, putting my phone down. “Just… wow.”
I just had a proper chat with Ben Chilwell. With the guy I've had a crush on since he played for Leicester. And we've flirted. Like, he called me beautiful. And he said he wanted to meet me. To see me in person. Me.
And I didn't freak out. I mean, I did, but it didn't show. I think. It is easier to not do it through texts, but just look at him and his rambling. Who thought he would be like this when he usually looks so confident and sure of himself? When he definitely has a lot more experience on this than I do? And that photo he sent me? Dear lord. He is handsome. He's stupidly handsome. Gorgeous. He…
“I have to show the girls” I blurt out while grabbing my phone, quickly getting up from my bed and leaving my room.
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Ok, I have good news and bad news
Which ones do you want first?
Bad 🫣
The Cobham visit isn't possible 😞
There are some things going on and… yeah 🫤
Shame 😞
The good news are really good news, tho
Are you ready? 😏
Ready
Ok…
How would you feel…
About…
Are you always this slow? 🙄
Just with good things that are worth going slow for 😏
Ben, you are making me nervous! 😩
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Because telling him that what he's actually doing is kind of turning me on just by thinking about what things he does that are worth going slow for, may be a bit too much, right?
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I'm sorry, I'm sorry
So…
How would you feel…
About…
BENJAMIN!!
Ok, ok 😂
How would you feel about a guest appearance during our first game of the season at Stamford Bridge?
We are playing against Manchester City, it's gonna be a big one
Hey
Are you still there?
Hello?
Oh my God, I killed her
Her heart couldn't take the news 💔
Jokes aside, are you ok? Why aren't you replying? Should I call someone? Did something happen?
Hi, sorry
There you are 😮💨
What happened?
Are you ok?
Yeah, yeah
I was just… processing
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And maybe jumping on my bed after reading his message.
Me being a guest appearance at Stamford Bridge? And during a Chelsea- Manchester City? That's… that's… I have no words to describe it.
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And what's the outcome of all that processing? 😅
Yes
Yes what? 🤨🤔
Yes, I want to go to the game and do a guest appearance and yes
Yes yes yes YES!!!!!
Ok, I think now I got it
May need another yes, tho 😂
🙄
😜😜
Anyway
The team said they will give you a shirt with your name and then you'll take some photos, show the medal to everyone, do that first kick, maybe give a little interview for the team's social media… The usual
And you are gonna be attending as my very special guest and will be sitting in my box 😏
Wait
With your family and friends?
Yeah
Unless that makes you uncomfortable and you prefer to sit somewhere else
I should have probably asked you before telling the team, shouldn't I?
Urgh, I'm so stupid 🤦🏻♂️
No, no
That's ok
Though one question…
Sure
Am I allowed to take someone with me as a plus one?
I would like for my dad to be there with me, he's the one who made me a Chelsea girl 🥹
Of course!
I'll discuss it with the team, but I don't think there will be any problem
Though I don't know how my plan for after the game would work if you have your dad there with you 🤔
Your plan? What plan? 🤨
I was planning on taking you out for dinner 🫣
You and I?
Yeah
You and I
A date
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A date. A fucking date. I… asdfghjklñ.
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I'll think of something, don't worry
Is that a yes to having dinner with me, then? 😏
It is, yes
Cool ☺️
Looking forward to it 😘🧔🏻
Same 🥰
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“Bloody… hell” I whisper, putting down my phone after sending that last text.
I just said yes to going on a date with Ben Chilwell. And I'm gonna be a guest appearance at Stamford Bridge for the first game of the season. And my dad is gonna be there to watch it all. And after I'm going on a date with Ben Chilwell.
Bloody hell, indeed.
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“I can't believe we are here. Like… woah” my dad chuckles.
“Yeah…” I say.
We are at Stamford Bridge, and not in the stands like so many times before. We are in the tunnel waiting until they call me to go on the pitch, show my medal and kick that ball, hopefully not embarrassing myself in front of everyone and, of course, in front of Ben.
Right now he is chatting with the referee, stretching and laughing about something. And he hasn't shaved or touched his hair.
He sent me a photo last night asking me if I liked how his beard looked, and I obviously told him that he looked perfect (which isn't too difficult) and that he should also keep his hair like that if it didn't bother him while playing. So there he is now, with his beard and his curls free of that bloody hair gel, looking gorgeous.
“Miss? It's time” the Chelsea staff member who has accompanied us since we arrived says.
“Shit, ok. Ummm… thank you” I smile.
“You can do this, pickle” my dad says, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I mean, you've won a gold medal in front of the whole world, haven't you? This is nothing compared to that.”
“Or everything” I sigh.
“You can do this” he repeats, giving my shoulders an encouraging squeeze.
“Miss?”
“Yes, sorry. I can do this” I say, taking a deep breath and giving my dad a quick kiss on the cheek before following the staff member, the whole stadium cheering as the speaker announces my name.
Maybe I can't do this. Maybe I should go back inside, say I'm not feeling well. Maybe I… But then I see him. Ben.
He's standing in the middle of the pitch with the referee and Rúben Dias, Manchester City's captain today. Usually I would also give him a good look because… well. I have eyes and he is, you know. But right now those eyes can only focus on the person wearing the darker shade of blue, the one with a smile that makes my knees feel like jelly but that at the same time is what is making me walk and do what I'm supposed to. Like waving at the crowd and all that.
“Congratulations, miss” the referee says, shaking my hand. He is the bald one who looks like Iniesta according to my dad, can't remember his name.
“Thank you” I reply.
“Congratulations” Rúben Dias says next, also shaking my hand.
“Thank you” I say, somehow managing to smile. And then…
“Congratulations… again” Ben chuckles, giving me a hug. “You look beautiful, by the way. Chelsea blue suits you” he whispers.
“Thank you” I mutter, my cheeks on fire when he moves and winks at me.
Now this is the confident Ben Chilwell I'm used to, not he guy who starts rambling because he gets nervous while texting, which is something that still haven't been able to stop thinking about.
“Can you pose for some photos, please?” someone says behind me.
“Yes, of course” Ben says, his arm suddenly around my waist, moving me to stand between him and the referee.
“Big smiles…” the photographer says.
But I'm not able to focus my attention on him. I can only think about Ben's arm, about the way his thumb is moving on my back, kind of caressing it and trying to make me… I don't know, relax? But how can I relax when he is doing that?
And then, when the referee moves so I am standing between him and Dias… Wow. I'm pretty sure there are many people out there who are wishing they were me right now. Though once again, I can only focus on Ben's arm, on how he has pulled me closer to him as if… Nah. It can't be. He can't be doing that because he is jealous of Dias, is he? He…
“Ok, we are done. Thank you” the photographer says, bringing me back to the real world.
“Time for that first kick” Ben says, definitely taking his time to move his arm from around my body.
“When you are ready, miss” the referee says, putting the ball in front of me.
“Which way do I go?” I ask him.
“That way, towards the other Chelsea players.”
“You can do this, c'mon” Ben says with an encouraging smile.
“Ok” I say, taking a deep breath and…
“That's it, well done!” he laughs, one of his teammates stopping the ball, the whole stadium cheering.
“This way, miss” the staff member from earlier says.
“Yes, ummm… Nice to meet you” I say, giving a shy wave towards Dias and the referee, who reply with little nods. “Chilwell.”
“See you later” he winks. Again. How have I not tripped with my own feet after seeing that will remain a mystery.
“That was amazing, pickle!” my dad says when I join him on the tunnel.
“I just kicked a ball, dad.”
“Isn't that what they all do?” he laughs. “Anyway, let's go find our seats. I don't want to miss anything, and knowing that Haaland guy, he is able to score two goals in five minutes. Again.”
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“And… yeah. It was a good game. Still a lot of work to do, but it's just the first of the season.”
“Will we be seeing you again at Stamford Bridge?”
“My dad comes to all home games and some away ones, so I hope so” I smile.
“Looking forward to seeing you. And… we are done. Thank you very much for being so patient” the interviewer says. “You must be tired of giving interviews.”
“For my beloved Chelsea I have all the time in the world” I chuckle. “Thank you for having me.”
“Well done, pickle” my dad smiles when I join him.
“Dad, can you please stop calling me that in front of strangers?” I say, looking around.
“Why? It is your nickname.”
“Yeah, but… it's something for family only.”
“Chelsea are our family” he says. “And speaking of that, I should probably get going if I want to make it home for dinner with your mum. Where are you meeting with the girls?”
“At the restaurant. I already have a car ready to come pick me up.”
That had been the excuse I had come up with to stay for a bit longer at Stamford Bridge before meeting with Ben for our date. Our date. I still can't believe I am going on a date with Ben fucking…
“Chilwell!” my dad suddenly says.
“What?” I say, turning around.
“Hello” Ben says with his best smile as he walks towards us.
“Look, pickle. It's Ben Chilwell!”
“I know, dad” I say, feeling my face on fire.
“She's a big fan of yours, you know? She even has a poster of you in her room.”
“Dad!” I gasp.
“What? It's the truth, isn't it?” he shrugs. “You look better in the picture she has, tho. What is with all that?” he says, touching his face.
“My beard?” Ben says, running a hand through it and making me want to do the same, something that doesn't help with the current temperature of my face.
“Yeah. You are in need of a shave, son.”
“We'll see” he smiles. “Did you enjoy the game? Was everything ok with your seats?”
“It was perfect” my dad says, not allowing me to talk. “We actually sat next to your mum and your sister!”
“Did you?” Ben says, acting as if he was surprised. Because my dad thinks it was Chelsea's idea to invite us here tonight, not just Ben's. How do I explain to him that I had slid into his dms and that he had suggested it after some flirting?
“We did. You have a lovely family.”
“Thank you” Ben smiles. “Anyway, I came here hoping to catch you and get a pic just the two of us, maybe see that medal up close?” he says, looking my way.
“Oh, yes. Of course” I say, finally being able to be part of the conversation.
“Cool. Rob, hey!” he says, calling for the photographer who had been with us the whole day. “Would you mind taking some photos of us together? Maybe some with my phone too?”
“Of course” the photographer says.
And while we get ready for those photos, guess what happens again?Yes, Ben puts his arm around my waist, that thumb back to its previous shenanigans and to sending waves of heat all over my body.
“May I get one too?” my dad says when we are almost done.
“It'll be my pleasure” Ben says with his best smile while I just pray for this torture to end soon. And with torture I'm not only talking about having Ben that close and everything he is making me feel. I'm also talking about my dad saying things he shouldn't and embarrassing me in front of him.
“Are we done now?” I ask.
“Why such a hurry?” my dad chuckles. “You aren't meeting with the girls until later, are you?”
“I'm not, no. But Ben probably has plans with his friends and family, and I don't want you getting home too late. Especially when mum is waiting and you are carrying this” I say, taking off my medal.
“Wait… Can I… Ummm… Can I touch it?” Ben asks me.
“Oh, yes, sure.”
“Thank you” he says, smiling like a little kid on Christmas morning. He looks so happy. “This is amazing, isn't it? So cool. Wow.”
“You've already won some of those yourself, son” my dad chuckles.
“I have. But none of those are as big as an Olympic gold medal. I mean, the Champions League is quite big, don't get me wrong. But this one is just…” he says, inspecting the medal as if it was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen, somehow making me… emotional? What? “Thank you very much for letting me hold it. It means a lot” he says, giving it back to me.
“Don't you want a photo with it too?” my dad asks him.
“There is no need. But thank you, sir.”
“Well, then I better get going. May I?”
“Uh?” I say, being brought back into the real world once again after my dad stops whatever was going on between me and Ben after he had handed me back my medal and our fingers had touched, our eyes getting locked on each other's.
“The medal, pickle” he chuckles.
“Oh, yes, sure. Sorry.”
“Chilwell, will you keep an eye on my girl until she has to go? I know she is in good hands with you, our vice captain! Or captain like happened tonight.”
“I will, don't worry” Ben says, giving my dad his best smile. If only he knew…
“Great. Don't forget to text us, ok?” he says, kissing my cheek.
“I won't. Love you, dad.”
“Love you too” he says before waving goodbye, walking down the tunnel and already in deep conversation with the staff member who has helped us throughout the day.
“You have a really nice dad… pickle” Ben smirks.
“Oh my God” I say, covering my face with my hands. “I can't believe you heard that.”
“Why? It's cute.”
“It isn't. It's embarrassing.”
“It's cute” he says, his hands suddenly on mine, moving them from my face and making me look at him. “Hi” he smiles.
“Hi” I whisper.
“Did you really enjoy today?”
“Yeah” I nod.
“Do you want a tour of the stadium?”
“Now?”
“Now. Perks of being Chelsea's vice captain, or captain tonight like your dad said” he says.
“I… umm…”
“C'mon, say yes… pickle” Ben says with a teasing smile.
“I swear to God, Chilwell. If you call me that again, I'm leaving.”
“What? No, no, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry" he apologizes, the way he is looking at me making my heart sink. "I won't say it again, I promise.”
“Thank you. And I'm sorry if that came out too… harsh. Too many emotions today.”
“I get it, don't worry. And again, I'm sorry” he says, that thumb back to caressing me. Though this time you could say it is even worse, because there is no fabric between it and my skin since he still has his hands on mine.
“Yeah, ummm… I think we should start with that tour before they close the stadium with us inside.”
“We should, yes” he says, his smile coming back and making my heart skip a beat. “Let's go” he says, letting go of one of my hands but still holding the other, interlacing our fingers except for one. That one.
Because as he walks me down the tunnel and starts telling me all the details about the stadium, that thumb is constantly moving over my skin. And even though at first I feel like it is burning where he is touching me, after a while I stop noticing it and it feels like what I guess he was looking for since the beginning. Like something natural, something comforting. Something even… intimate, just between him and I.
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“Ben?”
“Yeah?” he says, turning to look at me as I stop walking.
“Why are we back in the tunnel?”
“The… Oh, yes… Umm…” he says, running his free hand through his hair. Because yes, you guessed it. The other still is holding mine.
He didn't let go of me as he showed me around the stadium and told me anecdotes about the building that I didn't know about or about things that had happened to the team since he joined them, all while sharing little moments that go from shy smiles to loud laughs that would have definitely made people give us a weird look if we hadn't been alone, and everything in between. At times he even started rambling like when we were texting, the cheekiness and confidence disappearing and his nerves taking over him like it is happening right now.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“What?”
“Come” he says, giving my hand a little squeeze and starting to go up the stairs that lead to the pitch.
Most of the lights have been turned off and only a couple are still on, lightning one spot in the grass. One where there is something that looks like…
“Ben, is that… Is that what I think it is?” I ask him, stopping as we set foot on the pitch.
“If you are thinking about a picnic, it is, yes” he smiles before moving to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “My original idea was to go to a nice restaurant, but then I thought that if we didn't want to have to worry about someone recognising us and going to the press, we would have to go to one of the most exclusive ones and I wanted something more chilled for our first date. So I started thinking about different options, checked Instagram for some inspo, and came up with this.”
“Ben, I… I… I don't know what to say. I…” I mumble.
“Do you like it?”
“I do” I say, moving in his arms to face him, not expecting to end up being so close to him. To have my chest against his as I rest my hands on his arms (or his biceps to be more precise), our noses almost touching. We are so close, that I can see his freckles perfectly. So close, that just by moving a tiny bit I could kiss him if I had the guts to do it. “I love it, Ben.”
“Thank God” he says, letting out a big sigh and making us both laugh. “In case my rambling hadn't given it away, I was so nervous about this... About you not liking it... I thought that maybe it was too much, but since you have been a Chelsea girl literally since the day you were born… I don't know” he shrugs.
“It's perfect, so no need to be nervous anymore” I smile.
"Easier said than done" he chuckles.
"Uh?"
"In case you haven't noticed, you make me nervous" he says, caressing my cheek. "But in a good way."
"I... umm..." I mumble, feeling my whole face on fire. "Is this picnic the reason why you texted me the other day asking me what kind of food I Iike?” I asking, trying to change the topic of conversation.
“Yep” he says. “Who knew I wasn't the only person in this country who hadn't had Chinese yet.”
“I honestly don't understand why people made such a fuss about it” I shrug.
“Well, you are about to find out” Ben says, taking my hand again and leading me towards our little picnic set.
“Is that… Is that a Chelsea blanket?” I laugh.
“And a Chelsea picnic basket and cutlery. Look” he says, opening it. “I had no idea they sold such random things in the gift shop” he laughs.
“Oh, this is nothing compared to what other teams sell.”
“Like?”
“I've seen a West Ham garter.”
“What?” he laughs again.
“Yeah” I shrug. “Anyway, should we sit down? Something smells really good and I can't wait to find out what it is.”
“Of course. My lady” Ben smiles, helping me sit down and making me giggle.
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“Don't tell your friends, but I still don't understand why the fuss about Chinese food.”
“Says the person currently licking her fingers after not leaving anything on her plate” Ben laughs.
“I was hungry” I shrug.
“Sure.”
“I was” I insist.
“And I said sure” he says with a teasing smile. “Are you still hungry for some dessert, tho?”
“Always.”
“Then get ready for the best tiramisu you've ever tasted.”
“Tiramisu after Chinese food?” I chuckle.
“Why not? And this is homemade.”
“Made by who? You?” I tease him.
“Nope. My mum.”
“Your mum made us tiramisu?"
"She made me tiramusi. She has no idea we are here together right now. Like your dad, she also thinks I am having dinner with my mates" he smiles. "And here” Ben says, offering me a spoon full of tiramisu. “Open your mouth.”
“What?”
“C'mon” he says, trying really hard to not smirk. “You are gonna love it, you'll see.”
“Ok” I say, leaning forward and doing as he says.
“And?”
“Of my gof!”
“What?” he laughs.
“Oh my God, Ben. This is amazing!” I say again once I've managed to swallow.
“Told you” he says with a cheeky smile. “But you…”
“Uh?”
“You have something… Let me...” he says, moving on the blanket even closer than we already are, one hand holding my face by my chin while the thumb of the other (yes, that thumb) moves over my lower lip, making me gasp. “There, perfect” he smiles.
“Thank you” I manage to say, none of us moving a single centimetre, his hand still on my face. It's like the world has stopped, like it is just me and him. And then…
“May I kiss you?” he whispers.
“Please” I whisper back before it finally happens. No more imagining how it is to feel those glorious lips of his on mine. Now it is actually happening, and it is… it is… Wow. Just wow. “Did it tickle you?”
“Uh?”
“My beard. Did it tickle you like all those girls have said?” Ben says against my lips.
“I already told you that those girls know nothing, Benjamin. But…” I say, finally making my dream of touching his beard a reality.
“But?” he asks.
“I think we should keep kissing to be sure they just talk bullshit.”
“Ok” he laughs. "May I kiss you again, then?"
"You may" I smile before he kisses me again, proving that, indeed, those girls know nothing.
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