Seeing is Bellieving

[Rose Fletcher]

source tagged Bellamy Talbot words 622 notes REUNION!!!!

The idea of finding herself in London would have been something to laugh about when she was a child. It was a world apart from what was familiar to her in the quaint little town that she’d grown up in.  London was busy. It was loud and disruptive and the air somehow felt dirty- not like the fresh country air back home. She felt certain that she would hate it in the city. The people seemed unfriendly and insincere compared to the neighbour’s back home that surrounded her. But she did not need to enjoy the company of those that inhabited the city. She just required their money. She had a few loyal clients in her hometown that would come to her to mend ripped garments and tailor items that required it. This income had been enough when she also had her mother’s wages coming in, but since her mother’s passing, she had been struggling to make ends meet. The decision to travel to London in time for the upcoming season had been a difficult one. However, the logical part of her brain had won the battle. She needed the money and although nobles were among the most arrogant and dry people imaginable, they would offer more coin for her services than her social equals. Business had been slow, though. There was more competition in the city than she was used to. Most noble families already had a preferred business that they turned to when they needed a garment altered or mended.  Rose was actually beginning to think the situation quite hopeless and perhaps she was better off returning home, at least then she could be broke in familiar surroundings.  It was a stroke of good fortune indeed when a young maid had contacted her with- as she’d put it, an emergency. It sounded as though she had ripped the dress that she intended to wear that very night at a most important event. Such a pity. Did nobles really not have more important things to worry about? Their biggest concern was not having an outfit to wear to the next ball or dance. Of course, she had accepted the challenge of mending the dress in time for the party. She was the only one available at such short notice, and maybe if she did a decent job, they would be more likely to use her services in the future. Upon her arrival at the townhouse, Rose definitely felt out of place. The house and everything within it felt extravagant... And she was the peasant who was to keep her hands to herself and not touch anything, in case she left a layer of grime behind. They soon led her through into one of the many ground floor rooms and presented with the dress- which had a pretty severe tear in the seam. She wondered how it had happened, but kept the question to herself, smart enough to know that it wasn’t her place.  Nor her concern. She was there to fix the damned thing, not investigate how it was ruined in the first place. They left her in the room alone to get to work, or mostly alone. There was a servant in the corner of the room, no doubt left behind to spy fetch someone when she had completed her work. The sound of the door opening made her pause, but she did not look up from the task at hand. “Ten more minutes, then I’ll be out of your hair” she tried to keep her tone professional and polite, though it was becoming increasingly difficult when there seemed to always be someone hovering over her when she was trying to complete the job they were paying her to do.

template by kitty

[Bellamy Talbot]

[nospaces]

rags
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to riches

living
[break]

a lie

TEXT

laurence

There was another ball this evening and Bellamy was already trying to mentally prepare for it. One of his sisters was in an absolute panic for her gown had ripped and it seemed to put the entire household in a commotion. Bellamy didn't have time to deal with it though and . . . there was really nothing he could do. It was not as if he could sew, and he doubted he could say anything to calm his sister down . . . so he decided to stay out of it. He hid out in his chambers for most of the outburst and when things sounded as if they calmed down, he poked his head out of the door. It was quiet. Perhaps a little too quiet but it was a welcome relief from the alternative.
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Deciding to change his view, Bellamy made his way through the hallway, mouthing to himself all the things he needed to remember in order to be prepared for tonight. He mouthed the guests names that would be there and that he was expected to know. He mouthed practicing how to introduce himself, titles for each role, how to ask a woman to dance. He had been so caught up in his mind attempting to remember everything that he had not realized he found himself in a room. He had apparently opened the door without realizing it and that was when he saw . . .her. He had to blink a couple of times to really believe it. Was he seeing things now?! Figments of his imagination?! Were dreams now becoming so life like? Was he . . . losing all sanity?!
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But then he heard her and she sounded so real. And . . . so exactly what dear Rose would sound like. That tone, with that subtle touch of annoyance he was able to detect just because he knew her so well. Oh how he had missed her and thought about her often. It was like a piece of him was incomplete without her by his side. "Rose," he said in a low voice, as if saying it out loud would make it more real. This was impossible! And incredible! And . . . perhaps the first wonderful occurrence in this household.
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"Rose!" He greeted, exclaimed, this time more excitedly and he rushed towards her. He could think of nothing else but the excitement and relief that came with seeing her and so, threw his arms around her to huge her, despite whatever she was working on. He even ignored the servant in the corner who expressed their own shock by exclaiming My Lord! but Bellamy didn't care. All he cared about in this moment, was that he had a piece of his heart back.
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tag: Rose Fletcher --- notes: 

MEL @ ADOX

[googlefont="Dancing+Script"]

[Rose Fletcher]

source tagged Bellamy Talbot words 619 notes Help me this hurts and I'm sad!

She expected to hear the sound of retreating footsteps, followed by the sound of the door closing as whoever it was that checked in, left her to continue in peace. The last thing she needed was someone watching over her shoulder while she attempted to fix this complete wreck of a gown that some spoilt child had somehow managed to near destroy.  Instead, the person seemed to linger in the room. Hovering, probably anxious that she was not doing an adequate job. There was nothing she hated more than a hoverer, this was the reason she preferred to work from the comfort of her home- where she had the benefit of banishing all potential hoverers.  "Rose" She froze when she heard her name softly spoken. The voice so familiar, so comforting but she knew that it simply couldn't be. Somehow her brain was playing some cruel trick on her, because it simply could not be him. Glancing up from her work, she felt her throat catch upon seeing the man standing in the doorway. He looked different. More put together, the picture of nobility. Not like the man she knew, or thought she knew. He had certainly landed on his feet, going from that tiny home he'd shared with his mother, to this extravagant townhouse.  Rose stood, every instinct in her body telling her that she needed to leave. Now. Before she had the chance, he had crossed the room and embraced her in the first hug that she'd received in months. The dress and needle remained gripped in her hands, unable to drop them. It was almost as if all of her resolve crumbled in that moment, and for the briefest of moments, she was without the strength to pull away. Then the moment passed.  "Bell-" his name caught in her throat, leaving her unable to finish her sentence. "Let go-!" she pushed him off of her, knowing without having to look him in the face that he would respect her boundaries, even if her rejection caused him upset. But what reason did he have to be upset? He had left her. One day he had been her best friend, and the next he disappeared to live this new life of riches and privilege, without so much as a goodbye. He hadn't even thought to write, and now he wanted to act pleased to see her? Her chest ached. Like her heart was reaching out to him, whilst she placed the dress on her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Closing herself off from him, perhaps for the first time since they'd known each other. She forced herself to hold her head high and look him in the face, because she had no reason to shy away or feel shame for pushing him as she had. She had done nothing wrong. The fault lay with him, and he would know so unless he was completely clueless.  "You remember I exist then" she said dryly, trying to keep her voice steady but it trembled with barely concealed emotion despite her best efforts. "Then I assume you have an explanation, for not sending so much as a single letter?" it hurt, to be discarded by the one person she thought would be there for her no matter what.  An entire year had passed since she'd last seen him. "You can't just go a year without so much as a word and then run in here and look at me like I'm your favourite person in the world" because it hurt too much. And it would hurt more the next time he decided to leave her again in favour of a lifestyle that she simply did not fit into.

template by kitty

[Bellamy Talbot]

[nospaces]

rags
[break]

to riches

living
[break]

a lie

TEXT

laurence

Bellamy was not entirely sure what he had been expecting. He had been far too overcome with excitement over seeing his best friend that he really, thought of nothing else apart from the comfort of her embrace. Perhaps it was selfish . . . no. It was most definitely selfish. But emotions had taken over and, were met with a harsh awakening. She pushed him off and Bellamy staggered back, staring at her as his smile vanished and his eyes widened with confusion.
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Was she doing this because of the witness in the room? Potentially deeming this as 'inappropriate'? He almost didn't hear the servant in the room gasp at the seamstress's action and say "Miss! You can not do such a thing!" But Bellamy was not focused on that. He had momentarily forgotten about rank, status, expectations . . . everything. He thought only of Rose. When Rose continued, clarity was sinking in and Bellamy just wished to blurt out everything. The truth, from beginning to end.
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Truths that he had been forced to suppress and keep only to himself. Yet, he could not hide this from Rose. She knew him from before and now . . . she was in London. In his home no less! Was this fate? Perhaps. Perhaps it was his chance to explain to her what she now held against him. Unable to contact her, unable to send word that he was even alive. And well, he knew her thoughts on nobility. Taking a slow breath he turned to the servant. "Can you please give us a moment?" His voice lacked any authority and instead, the question sounded like he was asking for a favour rather than expecting her to simply comply.
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He once had been a servant too. So commanding them was not within his capabilities. "But my Lord--" "Please." His pleading tone seemed to have convinced the servant as they reluctantly went outside, though Bellamy knew without looking that they were right outside the door. The household staff in here surely had more loyalty to the Duke and Duchess, leaving Bellamy with no one to trust.
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Looking back at Rose, he hoped to explain, even minimally what happened. He did not feel safe within the the household to divulge everything. The walls had ears and the last thing he wished for was for Gerard or Lydia to lay threat upon Rose as a . . . 'complication' from his past. He most certainly would not put it past them. "I never forgot about you," he began, his voice filled with vehement sincerity, practically begging her to believe him.
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"I would never," he added on, as if the very thought of forgetting about her existence was sheer impossibility -- which it most certainly was. "I was . . . " brought here! "They . . . Took me! "I did not . . . " Have chouce! "I missed you." Every other sentence seemed impossible to finish because all he could manage to get out, was how incredibly much he had missed his best friend.
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tag: Rose Fletcher --- notes: 

MEL @ ADOX

[googlefont="Dancing+Script"]

[Rose Fletcher]

source tagged Bellamy Talbot words 479 notes

Rose didn’t know what he had expected. Was she supposed to greet him with jubilation, and open her arms to him as if nothing had changed. As though no time had passed and they were both the same people as they’d been the last time they saw each other. That wasn’t true. Too much time had passed between them and now she was standing in a room with a man who felt like a stranger. She glared at the servant when they dared to protest her actions. She felt like telling them that no, she most certainly could. Because all of her fondest memories were of him, and she was so desperately angry with him for causing her so much distress. Rose had forgotten that they could not simply exist in the same space anymore. There were rules and etiquette that got in the way and complicated things. Of course, she was not permitted to lay her hands on him; It surprised her they even allowed her to breathe the same air as his Lordship. He was the son of a Duke and she, well... She was nothing. He requested the servant leave the room, and then they were alone. The buffer gone. “I never forgot about you” “I thought you were dead” her voice wavered, hearing the apparent sincerity in his own, and almost believing it. “I grieved for you” one day he had been there, and the next he was gone. No goodbye. No explanation. “But you weren’t gone, you left” that realization was perhaps the most painful of all. He had been her best friend, the one person she thought she could rely on no matter what. Only he'd proven her wrong, because he walked away to embrace a whole new life, and he hadn't looked back. “I missed you,” She desired nothing more than to believe him. That she had not been just a forgettable chapter in his life, but how could she trust his word.  “You left me” the retort was sharp, bitter that he spoke those words as though he meant them. "You have no right" no right to say such things, to try to convince her that they might be true. He had obviously been so wrapped up in this masquerade that he had not spared her a second thought. Now he felt guilty. Faced with her standing there, it was unexpected. She'd caught him off guard and he was looking for forgiveness. And she was furious. Because she wanted nothing more than to give it to him, despite the hell that he'd put her through. "I missed you too" she almost choked on the words, hating to admit it. To allow him that glimmer of hope that maybe she still felt something other than anger and frustration towards him.  But he was standing in front of her now. Different. But alive.

template by kitty

[Bellamy Talbot]

[nospaces]

rags
[break]

to riches

living
[break]

a lie

TEXT

laurence

Bellamy kept his eyes fixed on her, feeling his heart ache as she spoke of how she left him. Oh how he wished he could tell her everything! Tell her how much she truly meant to him. That he wanted none of this! That he would gladly return to his previous life because it was there he found true happiness. Now of course, he knew some would appreciate the ease that came with rank and wealth . . . but Bellamy preferred the freedom of life. Not the constant suffocation of being a prisoner within this one.
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He remained silent, his eyes slightly widened as he let the emotion appear on his face. Something Gerard told him to not do as men were meant to be stoic and refined. But he could not help it. Rose knew him better than anyone else and she was the one person he did not have to hide from. The one person he never wanted to hide from. But . . . what if she never forgave him for this? What if he had hurt her beyond repair? What if she never trusted him again? The panic of these thoughts making his lip ever so slightly quiver in sheer fear that he had truly lost his best friend, when he had only now been reunited with her.
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Though it was as if she somehow silently heard him . . . or perhaps it was just fate. Either way, she told him that she missed him too. It was all he needed to breathe a sigh of relief. He knew they were far from forgiveness, that she was perhaps far from forgiving him. But her words gave him that hope. Hearing her say it and he feeling encouraged to make this right. He wanted to hug her again, to hold her close but . . . he also knew he had to respect her boundaries. So he went with the less sentimental alternative and stepped closer to her so that he may drop his voice and not be over heard.
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"I did not leave you." He didn't want Gerard or Lydia to hear how much she meant to him. "I would never leave you." His voice thick with the utmost sincerity and sureness in these words. "I was . . . " He paused, turning his head to the door to see if anyone was peeking through. To see if anyone else was present. He could not trust the staff in this household; for their loyalties were surely upon the Duke and not him. Turning back to her, he lowered his voice even more as he spoke the next words.
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"I was taken," he whispered, perhaps a bit too dramatically but he could not bare the thought of her thinking he had left her of his own volition. "We have much to discuss Rose," he told her. "I ask only for the chance to explain. Should you permit me to." Because he had hurt her and he wanted to make this right once more. The responsibility rest upon his shoulders and she, was of paramount importance above all else in his life.
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tag: Rose Fletcher --- notes: 

MEL @ ADOX

[googlefont="Dancing+Script"]

[Rose Fletcher]

source tagged Bellamy Talbot words 509 notes TELL HER THE TRUUUUTH

Rose had never been a runner, her mother had not raised her to think it appropriate to flee when things got tough, but in that moment all she wanted to do was to push past him and find the nearest exit. She still had to finish fixing that poxy gown though, but she couldn't imagine completing such a task when she felt sure her hands would be shaking if she attempted to take up the needle again. She tried not to meet his gaze, that seemed so intense and yet comfortingly familiar. His eyes, they were the one thing that had stayed the same. His clothes, posture... Even his hair, had all changed, groomed to perfection to meet with the standards of high society. But nothing could be done to change those eyes. She almost smiled. But then the heaviness in her heart eradicated any chance of that. It had been so long since she'd smiled at him, the times where they'd spend all day in each others company, laughter and conversation flowing so easily between them, was far behind them.  He stepped closer, closing some of the distance between them and when he next spoke, his voice was lower; secretive. Rose swiped a hand over her cheek in frustration at a stray tear and forced herself to look at him once again. A knot seemed to form in her stomach at his words, how honest and sincere they sounded while her mind told her that they simply could not be true. "You-" she almost cut him off but stopped short, forcing herself to hear him out. She still believed that she owed him nothing, but was compelled to listen- part of her hoping, praying that whatever explanation he had, would be enough to mend things. Wishful thinking. She was a fool. Bellamy glanced towards the door, and then lowered his voice further, causing Rose to have to lean forward slightly to hear what he had said. "Taken?" her own voice mimicked his whisper, brow knitting together as she tried to make sense of what he was telling her. It was difficult to believe, and her first reaction was to think the information false, that he was just attempting to make an excuse for discarding her.  She exhaled. It was exhausting, caring for a man who would go to such lengths and spin such lies, in an attempt to make himself forgivable. It would be so much easier if she could just turn her feelings for him off, it would make walking away so much more bearable. "Bellamy, I don't..." she sighed, keeping her voice low. But maybe this was her only chance to learn the truth, because she doubted she would see him again after she left his house. "You must promise to tell me the truth, all of it" she pressed, unwilling to accept anything less from him, not when this was hard enough.  "If you promise me the truth, then I will hear it" if he denied her that, then there was nothing left to say.

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