They had spent the morning hanging out and shopping so when Abby reminded her about her rehearsal at the theater Ophilia offered to come as well, as long as having an audience didn’t bother the younger Evans that was. Of course Ophilia went and sat quietly in the auditorium as Abby danced across the stage. The director did what every director did, which was stop and start the whole thing dozens of times. It was both fascinating and boring as hell, to the point that the dark haired woman even took the various ‘breaks’ the director provided in the dancing to check her phone.

She was replying to an ill timed email about the market when someone settled into the chair diagonally behind her. The woman pointedly ignored the muttered question, focusing on her phone, at least until she hit the ‘send’ button and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know… when they're done.”

Ben had strode into the theater, not even hesitating in the front of the building before making his way into the auditorium itself. After a pause, noting the man in dark clothing talking to a crowd of people on the stage, he made his way down the aisle and slid into the row right behind a familiar figure. He wondered why Ophilia was there but considering how protective the elder woman Ben wasn’t all that surprised. Instead he settled down behind her and asked when the rehearsal was going to be done, they had a dinner reservation after all. He was not surprised by the ‘you don’t exist’ reaction, honestly when she did answer he was much more surprised. “Aww, you warming up to me ‘Ophie’?” He was yanking her chain, especially by using the nickname he knew only Abby was allowed to use.

“Like a plague…” She spat, glaring over her shoulder at the irritating man. Why her Aunt and Uncle chose him of all people she would never understand. “Only one person is allowed to call me that and you are not her. The next time you use that name I will make you regret it.” She couldn’t castrate him, Abby would be heartbroken, but she could dump him in the Rift, it would be an ‘accident’ of course so who could blame her. Little old her, she couldn’t have done anything to the ‘big strong Ben’, definitely couldn’t have. She would have the perfect alibi too. “Actually, you know what… call me ‘Ophie’ again,” She grinned but it wasn’t a nice grin. “I dare you.”

Ben eyed her, that look in her eye wasn’t sane, but then again he wasn’t exactly either. The itch to actually call her bluff was strong so it was a good thing that a clap and a raised voice from the stage drew his attention. He eyed the space, wondering if the rehearsal was done for the day, only to be disappointed when the director climbed down and everyone but two people cleared the stage. One was Abby, in her skimpy little practice outfit. The one he liked to watch her in, and loved peeling her out of, even more. It covered everything and yet, left very little to imagination. Add in that thin little skirt and it was just a pleasure to watch her. The other dancer however…. Ben didn’t like him. Not one bit.

It was the same guy from the last ballet. The one who was all over Abby. Logically Ben knew that the damn man was just doing his job but that didn’t mean Ben liked it. He dug his fingers into the chair in front of him, holding back the desire to just leap on the stage and rip the man away. Breaking each and every bone in his body in the process of course.

Ophelia was enjoying the dance, even though she winced each time the director had the duo on stage repeat certain moves with ‘more passion’. It was just bizarre watching her cousin dance such a suggestive scene. She knew it was just part of the ballet but still… It was her little cousin. Her sweet little cousin. It felt icky in a way that Ophilia was not a fan of so instead she turned back to her phone.

It wasn’t until the ominous sounds of creaking wood had her looking up that Ophilia realized that she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t all that happy with the dance on the stage. Bennett seemed to be digging his fingers into the chair in front of him so strongly that the poor seat was groaning at the stress. “Down boy,” The raven haired woman hissed, “If you go running up there like a bloody fool she will not thank you. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she skinned you alive.” No one interrupted her when she was dancing! Not on a stage. “Besides,” Ophilia glanced back at the stage where the director was once more having the duo run through a particular turn, “She is just the understudy this time. The Prima is currently in a meeting and couldn’t come today.”

Ophilia had heard all about it from Abby. All gossip and all malicious. Ophilia didn’t particularly care but after she looked up the story of the dance and the position that Abby was currently understudy for, she was rather happy her little cousin wasn’t going to be dancing as Mary Vetsera. She was still going to be in the ballet, just not as the ‘mistress with a bad ending’. “If you can’t keep yourself in check, go wait outside. Do not ruin this for her,” She ordered him, ready to actually put him out if he crossed the line. It might not be possible but she damn well would try.

Ben growled and made some rather rude remarks, both about the situation and about Ophilia’s comments. He really wanted to storm the stage but he also knew that Ophilia had a point. Abby would have an absolute litter of kittens if he broke up the practice, or whatever they called it. It grated on him, especially when the guy put his hands all over Abby. It absolutely galled him to no end. Rather than caving to his base desires the man stood with a grunt and made his way out of the auditorium. It was best he waited for the end of the practice out of sight or things might get messy.

Strange. Ben normally had better control. He didn’t use to care who his girlfriends spent time around… not that he particularly cared if they got their panties in a twist if he was seen with someone else. They were just part of his life, a background character that filled his more base desires. Abby on the other hand was his. He loathed it when others touched her, male others. Especially when they had their hands all over her like right now. It galled him.

He wanted to put a sign around her neck that screamed, ‘Don’t touch’. A mark, or something. Anything. A hickey was useful in keeping the more pushy men away, as long as it was visible but they faded over time. The man paced back and forth in the lobby, only pausing when he received a text. There was already a thought forming, one that wasn’t really part of his life plan just yet but… it would keep her all to himself.

They would just have to move up the wedding.

((Just in case anyone wants to watch the ballet here is a performance - Link))
[Ben wordcount: 640 ; Ophilia wordcount: 614]