Work Text:
She hates that he was always on her mind.
Scraps of conversations floating through her head as she tries to concentrate, tries to breathe, tries to forget. His words bouncing through her head, his smug face burning behind her eyelids.
He had always been there, from this first fleeting conversation in Cincinnati he had been stuck in her head, gotten under her skin in a way no one else ever had and if she was honest with herself, from that moment on, he had never really left again.
Beth sees things the same way I do.
She smiles at her opponent - the old man in the park, so excited to play chess with her - and tries to ignore his voice like she had always done. And yet she couldn’t. Something had changed. From the moment she had heard his voice through the receiver - that familiar voice giving her clues how to beat Borgov - something had shifted, and she just couldn’t ignore it. Not anymore.
A floodgate had opened, a door she hadn’t even realized she had held shut, until finally she couldn’t do it anymore. Feelings she had kept buried rose to the surface, and there was nothing Beth could have done to stop it.
Why was he so infuriating, Beth thought as she moved one of her pawns, the audience that the game had gathered murmuring in approval. Why couldn’t she forget about his stupid words and his stupid arrogance and his altogether stupid act.
And yet she knew the answer. Had known it since the ruined afterglow they had shared. She had never cared for snuggling or for a heartfelt exchange after sex. Hadn’t she actually preferred to keep her distance after sex? Wasn’t that what she had done with Harry? Burying herself in a magazine as soon as it was over? Ignoring his attempts of a more meaningful encounter?
And yet, Benny’s behavior had stung. And even though she had felt ridiculous for being upset, she couldn’t have helped it, because deep down she had known why this time was different. And she had been so furious with herself and with him that she hadn’t even tried to understand him, even though she knew that he was doing the same thing she would have done in any other interaction. Deflecting and protecting. Playing it safe.
Tough game.
Beth was so lost in her thoughts that she lost one of her knights accidentally. It was no problem. She was far from losing, but it was displeasing. She knew that normally she would have defeated the old man in 20 moves or fewer, but she was distracted and on edge, and she just couldn’t focus.
Usually this was when she longed for her pills. Embarrassed to be so distracted, she would swallow some just to get her thoughts back on track, but she didn't. Because Benny wouldn’t want her too, would be disappointed, would look at her with those dark eyes full of disappointment and wasn’t that just pathetic. That one of her main reasons for staying sober wasn’t her health, or her mind, or even her recent win, that she managed without any drugs but a guy thousands of miles away and the possibility of disappointing him?
Don’t call me anymore.
But, dammit, hadn’t that hurt? She hadn’t cried, there had been no tears left to cry. And yet, she had felt herself break.
Break differently than when she had lost in Paris, and yet ultimately worse. Because this time she hadn’t just disappointed herself, but everyone else as well. She had let them all down, hadn’t she? Mr. Shaibel and Harry, and worst of all: Benny. And she had been so angry with him. Not because she hadn’t understood his reaction, but because she did.
She did understand why he was so angry with her, she had wasted all his generosity, his help, every single thing he had done for her when she had gone hungover to the chess game against Borgov. Weeks of training for nothing. And then she hadn’t even had the guts to face him, had hid in her house far away from him, never the first to reach out, never the one to call and with that she had probably given him the feeling of being nothing more than a pawn. Means to an end and nothing more.
And she should have seen this coming, should have anticipated this move in the complicated game they were playing, but she hadn’t. And he should have been able to see that. He should have been able to anticipate her obliviousness in the grand scheme of things, but he hadn’t either and now they were both hurt.
And he should have seen this coming, should have acted differently. He should have stopped being so stubborn and should have reached out to her once more. He was supposed to be the one teaching her how to play this game, and yet he hadn’t, and she was angry. But worst of all, she felt guilty, and she could do nothing about it. At least not from here, sitting at a chess board thousands of miles away from him.
Her opponent cleared his throat, and Beth realizes that she had been staring at the board for longer than necessary. The crowd was murmuring, and her opponent was staring at her peculiar.
And for the first time in her life, she felt out of place sitting in front of a chess board. She wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else, but preferably in a shabby basement apartment with lousy furniture and a shower in the living room.
You will have to get through me first.
And wasn’t that the painful truth.
She focused her eyes on the chessboard and let her mind float, banning every thought of Benny from her mind with a one-minded determination. She needed to end this game as soon as possible. She needed to leave and catch her flight, and then she would go to him. She would go to him, and she would tear down every single wall standing between them.
With that thought, she was finally able to focus, clearing her thoughts and reaching that special state where she could anticipate every single move her opponent could possibly make. She would need eight more moves to win.
Do you still like my hair?
Her own hair was blowing in the wind as she sprinted towards the main road, focused on hailing a cap and getting towards the airport. She would need a flight to New York as soon as possible. She would go to his place, and she would be brave, because yes, she loved his hair more than he could probably ever know.
And she was finally ready to give him an answer because she was Beth Harmon, upcoming world champion, and she finally knew what she would do after she had achieved that. She would do the one thing that was more difficult than beating Borgov. She would open herself up to rejection. She would make herself vulnerable. And she would finally say it back. Because the quiet confession, murmured into a telephone rang loudest of all through her head.
I miss you
The most jarring sentence of them all. An opportunity handed to her on a silver platter. An opportunity to let herself fall, to let herself be, to finally open herself to someone and let herself be vulnerable. A missed opportunity, she thought while looking out of the window of the plane.
How she had hated herself in the following weeks, hated herself and yet couldn’t identify the feeling. She just felt so lost, so tired, and her cravings had gotten the better of her. How easy it had been to let herself fall, fall in a different sense altogether. Falling and crashing and drowning.
She had missed him as well, but she would never have been able to admit it. To proud, or to frightened, she didn’t know herself. But it didn’t matter now. None of it mattered, because he had called, he had extended an olive branch, and now it was her turn.
She could finally see it, the little staircase leading to an inconspicuous doorway. Invisible and insignificant. And yet, behind that door, was everything Beth longed for and also everything she was afraid of.
Her fingers were frozen, and her body tired from the long flight to New York, and yet she was hyperaware of every little sound coming from his apartment. She knocked, and for a few frightened seconds there was only silence. What would she do if he wasn’t there? She hadn’t prepared for that outcome, and she didn’t miss the irony of that.
But then there was a shuffling sound, and the door was finally pulled open and there he was, sans his ridiculous coat and hat, only wearing jeans and his dressing gown, his chest bare. And all the careful constructed arguments, all the apologies and realizations and declarations that Beth had thought of during the endless long day just left her head when she stares into his surprised face and the only thing leaving her lips is a quiet: “I miss you, too.”