There was a moment in which neither of them said anything, and Ben was painfully aware that he ought to say something. He'd said Art, and he needed to follow it with something, but everything he could think of seemed too fraught. It couldn't have just been a bad joke, he thought, even if Art wanted to play it off that way — there had to be something that had brought it more to mind, pushed it to the tip of his tongue. Art wasn't just going to come right out and say it, though, as his delayed deflection made clear. But could Ben just openly ask about it? How could he phrase it in a way that didn't let on that he suspected everything already — that he had suspected a week ago and could have, should have, stopped it all before it happened?
For a long moment Ben said nothing, instead staring at Art and running through a thousand different versions of what he might say. Yeah, that was a weird thing to say, what brought that up? (Too direct, and he didn't think Art would answer him honestly anyway). Yeah, anyway — what's been keeping you busy the last week? (Too obvious of a shift; too obvious what he was asking; too easy to avoid because the simple answer was Quidditch and they'd already talked about that). Something about the attractive women comment? (Would lead back to talking about Melody, which Ben didn't want). Something about Bella Scrimgeour? (Not really what Ben cared about, and not what this conversation was about, and if he derailed it again in order to try and approach this from a different angle later they might never get back to it). Something else entirely — ask if he wanted to go somewhere, maybe, like they'd talked about at New Year's? (The timing wouldn't work now; Ben couldn't leave Melody and Art couldn't leave so close to the next Quidditch game, and if he was gambling again it wouldn't really have helped, it would have just delayed things).
"— you know we could talk, right?" was what eventually came out of his mouth, though it felt awkward and forced and absurd. Of course they could talk; they were talking right now. Probably what he'd meant to say was something like you know I'd help, if you asked me, but Art wasn't going to ask, which was the whole problem.
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MJ made this <3
For a long moment Ben said nothing, instead staring at Art and running through a thousand different versions of what he might say. Yeah, that was a weird thing to say, what brought that up? (Too direct, and he didn't think Art would answer him honestly anyway). Yeah, anyway — what's been keeping you busy the last week? (Too obvious of a shift; too obvious what he was asking; too easy to avoid because the simple answer was Quidditch and they'd already talked about that). Something about the attractive women comment? (Would lead back to talking about Melody, which Ben didn't want). Something about Bella Scrimgeour? (Not really what Ben cared about, and not what this conversation was about, and if he derailed it again in order to try and approach this from a different angle later they might never get back to it). Something else entirely — ask if he wanted to go somewhere, maybe, like they'd talked about at New Year's? (The timing wouldn't work now; Ben couldn't leave Melody and Art couldn't leave so close to the next Quidditch game, and if he was gambling again it wouldn't really have helped, it would have just delayed things).
"— you know we could talk, right?" was what eventually came out of his mouth, though it felt awkward and forced and absurd. Of course they could talk; they were talking right now. Probably what he'd meant to say was something like you know I'd help, if you asked me, but Art wasn't going to ask, which was the whole problem.

MJ made this <3