I was panicking.

Ben had assured me that the hospital would take care of his father just fine and we could stay in Brussels for tonight, but I was persistent on getting there as soon as possible.

That meant packing all my stuff in a matter of minutes and ordering Ben to make a call so the jet would be ready to fly us.

__

I had no idea what the time now was. We had just boarded the jet in the early morning hours. Ben had been quiet, interestingly quiet, but I ignored it completely.

My mind was too caught up in Mr Capra Sr.'s state. This was the second time he was sent to a hospital, and it worried me beyond words. I had never dealt with the loss of a loved one, and couldn't even begin to imagine the pain I'd feel if it came to it.

"Sofia, you need to calm down."

I flinched when my concerned and troubled thoughts were broken by his hand moving onto my thigh. I turned to find him having sat down next to me.

"I can't," my voice was a broken whisper, my throat clenching with the need to cry.

Ben sighed and nodded, relaxing on the seat beside mine.

Instead of the couches in the jet, I had sat myself right at the back by a window, leaving myself alone with my thoughts. This did cause my state of panic to rise, though.

"He'll be fine," he tried to assure me, but I just shook my head.

We had taken off half an hour ago, and I was hoping we'd arrive at the hospital at daybreak.

"This is the second time something like this has- has happened," I began, frowning and blinking to hold back tears.

Ben gave me an empathetic look. He then lifted the hand-rest between our seats up, and surprised me completely by wrapping his arm over my shoulders for me to lean against his side.

"He's so bloody stubborn about his diet," he then told me, his voice incredibly relaxing and calming, "he's like an old mule. I've told him to switch to eating healthier, but he won't budge."

Something between a sob and a laugh left my lips as I let myself cuddle against him, craving closeness and relief.

"He'll be fine," he kissed the top of my head, and I froze. It was such a small and intimate thing to do, my heart skipped a beat.

The gentle hum of the jet's engine was the only sound I heard after. Hot tears were now slowly sliding down my cheeks, my breathing irregular as thoughts of worst case scenarios entered my mind again.

"You're going to need to stop crying, sweetheart," Ben pulled back after a minute to find my tear-filled eyes with his, "my shirt will wrinkle."

The lighthearted tone in his voice and the small smile playing on his lips was meant to brighten my mood. I appreciated him for trying, but I couldn't stop thinking about Mr Capra Sr.

I covered my face in my hands just before a proper sob wracked my chest.

"Hey, hey..." he sighed and wrapped his arm around me again, this time murmuring calming things into my messy hair and gently rocking me against him.

Not once did I think about how weird this was, with my tears now staining Ben Capra's dress shirt. He cared for me, and that warmed my heart, but he was still technically my boss, not to forget his status in society.

"I'm so scared he's not going to be alive for a long time, anymore," I breathed out shakily, feeling like I had run out of tears after a few minutes.

I felt as if I had now cried more times, with or due to Ben, than in my entire life.

"People die. It's natural," he shrugged carefully.

I breathed in deeply, surrounded by whatever delicious aftershave he wore. An incredible sense of appreciation for this man hit me just then.

"I know, but he's the only person I have in this world. Only person I've ever had," I pulled back and wiped the underneaths of my eyes to rid any remmenants of my breakdown, "he's saved my life, Ben. I can't imagine life without him..."

His dark eyes studied me, brows furrowed in a natural way, before he slowly nodded. He was as surprised as I was, as I was now opening up to him from my own freewill.

I told him about how I had come to meet his father. I had his undivided attention, and revelled in the fact that he was truly listening to each word I spoke with the need to understand.

I also told him of what my life had been like before Mr Capra Sr. The drugs, abuse, and prostitution. Not once did a disapproving expression cross his features, I was surprised to find, only one of complete understanding.

"Fucking hell," was what he spoke when I had finally finished, "I'm so fucking sorry, Sofia, you..."

He shook his head, not knowing what to say.

"That's alright," I gave him a small smile, now much more calm with how his hand had remained on my thigh and I had gotten to cry everything out, "you don't have to say anything. I just hope you understand better, now..."

"I'm here. You have me, don't you?" Ben continued, tone more firm than before, "I'm not letting anything bad to happen to you—"

A small laugh slipped my lips. I knew there was no way he meant that, he was just saying it because there really was nothing else to say.

I cut him off by cupping his clenched jaw and leaning in to gently brush my lips against his.

"Thank you," I whispered, wanting to thank him for listening to me, for trying to calm me down and for succeeding in it.

His eyes fluttered shut, a small breath leaving his lips as well, before he closed the tiny space between us and kissed me.