People Who Hate Happiness for Emily

[Anthony Bridgerton]

💔

Emily Davenport

[Emily Davenport]

source tagged Anthony Bridgerton words 531 notes It's 3am, but I tried. Poor Anthony!

The actions of men had long been a topic of great confusion for Emily. The way they jumped to resolve their issues with violence and sparring, rather than civil conversation. It was a wonder that there were any men left to make the big decisions. They insisted women were incapable of comprehending, as they seemed so eager to kill each other off. All this talk of honour and the act of defending it. As if it was worth the effort in most cases, it was a ridiculous and outdated notion. When she’d first heard rumours of a Bridgerton scandal and whispers of a duel circulating, she hadn’t imagined them to be true. Having practically grown up alongside the Bridgerton’s, she knew those boys were capable of some fairly stupid ideas, but she hadn’t thought them completely void of common sense. So imagine her shock upon approaching Anthony Bridgerton himself, and discovering the rumours were true. She had attempted to change his mind on the matter, to talk him out of rushing into potentially deadly situations- but had received only the usual scripted response of how it was a matter of honour. What would she know? She was only a woman. Everyone knew they knew nothing of honour. Emily had to agree with that. Women knew nothing of dying for such trivial matters. If she could not talk him out of such a feat, she made it clear as day that she would be in attendance- to witness his stupidity Watching the men raise their guns, she felt nauseous with anxiety. Though was certain that neither man would hit their mark, the idea of taking a life was not one someone entertained lightly and she had to believe that neither would want to make themselves a murderer over something as trivial as wounded pride. The sound of the pistol firing caused her heart to drop into her stomach. Her eyes screwed tightly shut as she heard a body crumple to the ground, followed by deathly silence. Against her better judgement, she opened her eyes to look upon the grisly sight before her. It was only when she saw Anthony lying on the ground, that she realized that she’d been silently hoping that the other man would be the fallen one- let it be the man she had no connection with, the one she didn’t care for. Don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. “Anthony-“ she choked his name. Stumbling forwards, she dropped to the man’s side. Shaking hands pressed down on the place where the bullet had entered his chest, the red stain steadily expanding from around her fingers. “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?” She spoke the words to herself, unable to think clearly through the haze of panic and confusion about how quickly the evening’s events had escalated.  “You’re okay, you’re okay...” she didn’t know whether she was saying the words to the man bleeding out in front of her, or if she was speaking them to herself in some attempt at reassurance. “What are you standing there for? Help him!” why wasn’t anyone sending for a doctor, or trying to help them?  He needed help. 34 - Your muse dies in my muse's arms.

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