Ben was known for being a roughless brute who didn’t care that much about other people. If anything, many would consider him a soulless monster who only had his personal business in mind, which was rotten by substance abuse. He wasn’t a good guy, even though he was supposed to be the nation’s hero who helped bring World War II to an end — but even that was just nothing more than a marketing stunt, and he never actually did anything.

But that didn’t dishearten you. A part of you believed that there was something worth paying attention to. After all, you were a firm believer that everyone deserves a second chance and a lot of things can be somehow explained — or simply, you were just that blinded by him.

For some reason, he was the only person you could count on. You knew you should’ve stayed away from him, keep your distance. But it was hard — you wanted it all, flaws and all that. The fact that he was treating you like his little ray of sunshine didn’t help at all. He might be a dick to everyone else, but something just prevented him from being mean even in the slightest to you. As if he was afraid that even one nasty look your way would be enough to make you cry. You were his precious sweetheart, and that was final.

This was why when you ended up in a certainly messy situation, he was the first person who came to your mind to ask for help.

It was the middle of the night when you appeared in front of his front door, knocking softly but loud enough for him. You could hear him cursing and grumbling as he made his way to open the door. And when he finally did and saw the state you were in, it was enough to make him want to go on a killing spree. You were shaking, your lower lip was busted and not only did you have a small cut on your cheekbone but a black eye as well.

He was fuming, his fists clenched tightly, and his whole body tense. He knew who did that — your ex, who, for some reason, wouldn’t leave you alone.

“You wait here, sweetheart. I’m gonna find him and I’m gonna kill this motherfucker.”