'Something discreet' meant only one of two things in her opinion:

1. He was hoping for permission for an affair.
   
2. The methods of preventing pregnancy were discreet.

Of the two, an affair felt more immediately likely, but it didn't fit their present narrative. If someone — anyone found out he had strayed any hopes of the scandal dying down would be squashed. Rumors surrounding their elopement would become openly voiced questions instead of whispers in wealthy parlors. More than that,.though, was an affair would be the final nail in their coffin. There could be no hope for reconciliation if he was involving himself with anyone willing. Melody knew he was unhappy with her, knew he would rather be with anyone but her, but she wasn't yet willing to concede that they should quietly find other ways of happiness yet.

The second option was decidedly more confusing. Despite having relations only a few times (twice if one measured in days) Melody was fairly certain there wasn't much about it that was discreet. Even if she were just to lie back and allow him his pleasure a sticky mess would be left behind. Or was that what he meant? Did the methods used to prevent pregnancy somehow prevent that mess? Because if it did Melody was all for it. The dried aftermath of their coupling still left her feeling grimey.

But, his answer about the efficiency wasn't very confidence instilling. Above all else, Melody did not want to be pregnant again so soon (if ever). Surely he did enough research on the method to be fairly sure of its abilities? Otherwise, why mention it? Her brows furrowed somewhat as she briefly considered where she might find a book on various prevention methods. The book of potions had been hard enough to find in France (a country where she wasn't overly concerned with appearances). Should the wrong person overhear her request or see her with a forbidden book in her hands they would have a similar problem to him having an affair.

Trusting him and his research methods, it seemed, was the least risky of the options. "No...we should." She answered quickly, her cheeks hot from embarrassment. It would've been easier if they hadn't had to talk about it, but it was too late for that now. "We're married...no reason not to, right? Especially if you're- uh - if the methods will work..."

  

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Ben was starting to regret having brought it up. 'We should' was not even remotely similar to 'I want to.' He supposed he had no right to expect that she would be enthusiastic about something like this, but even so, the way she phrased it made his stomach sink. He frankly would have preferred if she had just turned a cold shoulder and given him license to have an affair, because at least something like that was familiar to him. A flirtation, a moment of passion, the adrenaline rush of trying something new. Anything the two of them did at the moment seemed more likely to fall into the marital duty category, which... just didn't sound that appealing, to be honest. He was still attracted to her, but when he tried to picture actually being with her, nothing about the picture he could conjure up made him inclined to pursue it.

"Yeah," he agreed a little hollowly. "Well. We'll do that, then. Not tonight," he clarified after a moment's pause. He hadn't actually managed to acquire the condom Art had mentioned yet. Still, it was good to have broached the subject, he supposed. They had a moment of privacy, after all, and there was no telling when they might have one again. He didn't plan on making visits to her bedroom like this a routine part of his life, at least not anytime soon.

  

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MJ made this <3

Not tonight? What was the bloody point of asking, then? Melody pulled at the strand in the mattress cover, refusing to look over at him. The bloody point was, she realized with a start, he'd been hoping for permission for an affair. For a love outside of hers. For a life outside of the one they were trying in vain to build.

She was going to be sick.

Melody bit her lip and nodded. Her experience with sex was abysmal, but there had to be things they could do that couldn't impregnate her. Many of the books she read while searching for a potion described different acts that she in her innocence couldn't quite understand. "We could do it now..." she hinted quietly, almost positive in his coming rejection. But, maybe if they did something he wouldn't be as inclined to an affair. Melody couldn't meet his needs in the way she desired, but maybe she could in other ways. In ways men needed.

  

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Now? Yeah, because the mood was ripe for that. Not that he was entirely disinclined — he was tense as hell and hadn't had that sort of release since the night of their elopement — but at this point, how would they even get from point a to point b? He'd stand there and awkwardly undress while she went back to taking swigs straight out of a liquor bottle to steel her nerves?

"It's okay," he said quickly, shaking his head. "You don't want to." This was not a question, but rather a statement of fact. Her body language made that quite clear, and even the words she'd used weren't overly encouraging.

"I still have to get the... thing, anyway," he continued awkwardly. He had the information from Art, but actually acquiring a condom was something he had no experience with — and since he wasn't sure whether or not he would ever be sleeping with Melody again, he wasn't sure if it was worth the effort until now. "So we can wait until then."

  

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She wanted to protest, wanted to prove to him that she did, in fact, want it, but Melody knew he wouldn't believe her. He would see her doubts and insecurities and it would further push him away. If he left tonight, though, what then? Would he find some other woman tomorrow or the day after? Would he flirt with some fresh debutante come June and repeat their history with someone else? There was little hope for them, she knew, but that knowledge didn't inherently mean she wanted him to find love elsewhere.

Why insist they stay together if he wasn't even willing to try?

"You'll tell me when you do?" She asked, looking at him for perhaps the first time that evening. "I do want to...tonight was just a bit much..." Melody quickly added with a slight blush. Ben couldn't leave thinking she had no desire for him, as that would surely push him into the arms of another lover.

  

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"Yeah," Ben answered quickly, moving to stand. It seemed like this interaction had run its course, and he certainly didn't want to sit here and keep awkwardly talking about (but not engaging in) sex with her. Her comment did help orient him a little more optimistically, however. Maybe she wouldn't be this stiff and disinterested forever; maybe it was just tonight. She had been through a lot, what with his family and the stress of dinner. Not to mention everything that had changed for her in the past few weeks, which she probably still hadn't adjusted to. Maybe things could get better.

"I get it," he said with a shrug as he stood. "Tonight was... yeah." With a quick glance at the liquor bottle he'd left on the nightstand, then back at her, he added hesitantly, "Try to... take it easy with that stuff, alright?"

  

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A part of her wanted to ask him to stay — to hold her and pretend for just one night that they were okay. Melody had already grown weary of being of being alone — of being abandoned by those she thought loved her. The pnly person she had left to rely on was Ben, and even he didn't believe himself capable of caring for her once more. (His quiet and clear "I want out" echoed through her head for the umpteenth time. A haunting reminder of her mistakes.)

But, she didn't dare risk the rejection. Not tonight. Not after his sister so callously called her Miss Finch with no correction attempted. Not after the sharp realization that this was likely all she'd ever have. That any source of happiness would have to be found outside of her marriage like he wanted. Melody dropped her gaze back to the fraying string. Maybe this was all she deserved. Maybe this was her penance for all her mistakes.

She nodded silently, though knew taking it easy was far from her intentions. Sleep didn't come easy for her anymore, not since the other side of her bed remained cold as ice. Sometimes, the bottle was the only way she could forget long enough to dream. "Yeah, sure." She said still not looking up at him. "Good night, Ben."

  

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beautiful set by mj