Ben was a very physical man. He was used to life running at a thousand miles per hour, as it had been in the days of Payback and when he was in wars and fighting and just—he didn't get to slow down. That wasn't an option for him. He didn't get to slow down, he wasn't allowed to, and he felt like he didn't deserve to. His life was resigned to being on go, to protect his country, his nation, sometimes circumstances meant the world. So when you showed him that slowing down was okay, that he deserved to relax? He adored you for it.

The mundane things in life can be romantic, he was starting to realise. Like tying your laces when you'd forgotten to, he drops to his knees for you almost immediately. He'd never do that for anyone else.

Or even remember that you'd called something pretty one time, so he bought it for you. It was this bracelet or something, but you really liked it, however hadn't bought it because you thought it was stupid. So when he went out one time to the store, he saw it in the window and brought it for you. The happy look in your eyes when you saw it and got to put it on made him happy. God, he adored you more than anything in the world.

Everything is romantic, isn't it? He's starting to realise that.

Even that ugly tattoo, your words, not his, that you had hidden on your hip. You never wore low rise jeans because of it, but Ben thought it was adorable. Even when you woke up in the morning, barefaced and what you called 'hideous', he thought you were gorgeous. He's brushing his teeth, speaking around the foamy toothpaste in his mouth, "You look fine, sweetheart, believe me, I've looked worse."

He points to himself, "Russians, ice, frozen, big ass beard," he shrugs, "been there, done that. You, look, fine." He leaves a foamy, wet, and also scratchy, from his beard, kiss on your cheek. And that is what you call romantic.