When Karen was little, a pack of stray dogs had cornered her near the barn. But Benjamin had thrown himself between her and the animals, taking bites on his arm and leg.
Blood had soaked his shirt, but he hadn't let go of her, shielding her, until the dogs ran off. From that day on, he had become something close to God in her eyes.
But all her advances on him had come to nothing. Only his gentle refusals and kind smiles that never felt genuine when she confessed.
She had tried everything in the book; writing letters, apologies, even painting desperate words on his bedroom wall: "Forgive me, I only want us to be closer!"
Her father had seen it and exploded, banning her from going near him.
She disobeyed, of course.
But after the graffiti incident, she pulled back. With only soft confessions now, mostly whispered when they were passing each other, and that was once in a while.
However, tonight she went with the contingency plan.
***
Knock, knock!
