Love and Honor

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict found himself frequenting Henry's house more and more often. While he hosted such incredible parties, that was not in fact what brought Benedict to Mr. Granville's house tonight. His invitation was similar to the first one he had ever extended to the second born. An invitation to his studio to practice and be around like minded people. So, Benedict went with the intention of practicing his sketching as well as conversing among good company. The artist's room had a few others in there, enjoying drink and smoke with the models positioned in the middle. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ An easel awaited Benedict as he removed his petticoat to get comfortable and start on his sketch. Time seemed to pass without any thought, and hours flew by in what seemed like a blink of an eye. Benedict had been so engrossed in adding the details to his sketch, that it was finally frustration that pulled him out of this artistic trance. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he dropped the charcoal and ran his other hand over his face for a moment as he slightly leaned back from the paper pinned upon the wooden board. The models had left not too long ago and the room had emptied out, leaving only Benedict and . . . upon looking up, noticed that Henry was still there too as he came to stand next to him. Benedict was almost embarrassed to show the man his drawing, completely dissatisfied with it. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ While he knew Henry had never judged him, Benedict still wished for it to be perfect. A seemingly impossible aspiration as he was quickly learning. Emptying what little drink he had left in his cup he then spoke to Henry. "My apologies," he began to say. "For it seems I have once again overstayed my welcome," he said with a slightly sheepish smile, now embarrassed over not only his horrid sketch -- avoiding the topic by quickly shifting it -- but also for making himself far too comfortable at Mr. Granville's. Benedict was uncertain as to what it was, but it was just far too . . . easy to be in his company. A chance to be away from the pressures of societal expectations and as Henry had once told Benedict . . . here, he could be himself. Tag bunny

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

HENRY ENJOYS HOSTING. That much is certain. He enjoys the parties - the laughter, the booze, the opium. But sometimes, he prefers the more intimate affairs, where it is just a few artist types with some models in the center of the room, where they drink by candlelight and discuss music and art and politics. . . They are less wild and more personalized. He usually hosts them when Lucy has other affairs, because he likes to keep himself busy without going to the men's club all the time. Another reason he has enjoys these more intimate gatherings is that he continues to invite Benedict Bridgerton.

Ah, Benedict. How fascinating a friendship. What started as a snarky remark at a gallery has turned into a beautiful relationship between them. A platonic one, of course, though Henry has been processing that he may... perhaps... be too fond of him. It's troubling. Not that he and Alfred aren't open to that kind of thing, of course. They are quite free, not bound by the rules of society, but at the end of the day... it should perhaps only be them. 

Oh dear. What to do with these feelings. Though, he is thoroughly convinced that Benedict is not like him, that he prefers the company of women. Especially since he discovered what occurred among Benedict, Miss Delacroix, and his wife. It seems he has a continuing flirtation with Miss Delacroix -- at least, that is what Henry sees at his parties. So he must push aside his feelings and see Benedict for what he is: a dear friend.

But they had locked eyes that night, and Benedict had not immediately run away. They stared at each other, and for fuck's sake, Henry couldn't stop thinking about it. 

The gathering has continued late into the evening as it usually does, and Henry rises from his seat, admiring the final touches he's made to his sketch. He tilts his head thoughtfully and makes a mental note to fix something in the morning. For now, he is more interested in the only other patron still there: Bridgerton. His brow raises at the frustrated sigh, and Henry makes his way over to the easel. He stares at it quietly for a moment, letting Benedict brood. "Apologies?" he asks, moving his gaze from the easel to the artist. "I would like to remind you that you are never imposing, Bridgerton. I rather enjoy your company, even this late in the night. You should know that by now." He teases, giving him a warm smile before turning back to his sketch. "What pains you about this? It's perhaps the best I've seen from you yet. Even the hands are better." What? He enjoys teasing him.

Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Though there was some relief that Granville assured Benedict that he was never imposing . . . Benedict did know that he was often overstaying. There was just such a strong sense of comfort and serenity he found here, among the company. Among Henry's company. "Perhaps," he said a bit jokingly when Henry said that he should know that by now. "But my appreciation for it remains." For Granville never seeming to grow tired of the younger male's company. Benedict's smile remained, appreciation evident in his features as he looked at Henry who now moved closer to look over his sketch. It was also difficult to draw his own gaze elsewhere when the man was near. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ There certainly was something magnetic about Mr. Granville. Besides, it was far easier to look at him than the work Benedict had produced, the same displeasure at his attempts still evident. But hearing the praise that the successful artist gave him caused Benedict's heart to swell a bit with pride and appreciation for the words. As underserving as they were . . . to know that his mentor approved, he could not help but feel flattered by it. For he knew that he would otherwise be brutally honest. Benedict certainly had been in the past. He couldn't help but slightly chuckle with amusement when Granville mentioned the hands on his previous work. But, to answer his question more seriously . . . ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "The proportions. There is something off set about them," he began to analyize. "And it lacks depth." At least to Benedict. He only hoped practice would cause him to improve. Practice, and the fortunate guidance he had of Henry Granville. Turning his head to look at Henry, Benedict continued. "Do you truly believe it shows progress?" He asked. He did not inquire for praise -- he was terrible at accepting praise for his work. He merely wished to know if he was on the right path of improving. So his eyes remained on Henry after asking the question, as if Granville's approval truly meant everything to the second born Bridgerton. Tag bunny

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

"KNOW YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME, BRIDGERTON." Henry responds to Benedict's appreciation. He goes so far to put his shoulder on the other's arm for a moment, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He finds that desire to touch him, to be closer to him -- and Henry knows he must be careful. He pulls himself away, creating a brief distance between them as he goes to get his cigarillo in an ash tray by his station. The closer he is to Bridgerton, the closer he wishes to be. Still, he returns as he takes a drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs as he listens to Benedict's harsh critiques of his own work.

His brow raises curiously as he leans forward to the parchment. Henry's free hand measures out the distance between the body, the head, the arms. He blows smoke from his nose. "Art is an interpretation," he begins, looking over the shading. "This is not a complete work of art, of course, but that is not the goal of the night. It is to practice." Henry straightens his back, but he keeps his hand close to the sketching. "You do have a keen eye, because there is some disproportion between the neck and the torso, and the right leg is extended too far. The right foot also looks broken in its current position." He points it out. "The depth is there, you have done good shading around the face. Remember to focus on a singular light source. Do not be afraid to have them adjust their position for your purposes." He takes the charcoal from the bottom of the easel and lighting sketches some lines in the empty space that coincide with Benedict's shadows. "Imagine that this is where the sun is in the drawing. Let it define where each shadow would fall, what part of the skin it will highlight and what part it will hide." 

Henry puts the charcoal down and turns to meet Benedict's eyes. "These are all easily fixable. You are not hopeless, Bridgerton. As I said, your hands are much better than they were the first night you trained here. But if you are this dedicated to perfecting your craft, perhaps you should come on as my true apprentice. We can set appointments around my schedule." Hadn't he just told himself to keep distance between them? Alas, his mouth spoke before his mind could stop him. This does not have to be a bad thing. "And we can train in the daylight, when the mind is sharper. I do enjoy these parties because it allows me to be free, but I did the bulk of my training at all hours of the day while at the Royal Academy. You are serious about this, I can tell. Take this next step, and we can work on portraiture. Painting. How these can be fixed with a swipe of a brush. The beauty of paint is that it can be painted over when we make a mistake -- or what we perceive to be a mistake. Remember: Rome was not built in a day. You have such great promise. Let us bring you to the next level." 

Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict felt the instant comfort of Henry's hand upon his shoulder, as if to reassure him but the feeling was fleeting as the accomplished artist moved his hand away and started eyeing Benedict's work. If only the Bridgerton son had something he produced that he was actually proud of. Despite Henry's success as an artist, he never harshly judged or criticized Benedict's work. It left him feeling both . . . nervous and keen at the same time, to hear what he thought when analyzing his sketches and offering feedback. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He listened to him as if hanging on every single word; taking all of it to heart, concentration upon his features when Henry explained the areas that needed work. That Benedict's own dissatisfaction was with truth . . . but Henry did not criticize him as much as he criticized himself. Perhaps the younger male knew he deserved much harsher words, but selfishly, he was relieved that Henry was gentle in his approach. Very gentle indeed. It was incredible really, how the man was able to fix such a lingering problem with a simple, effortless stroke . . . having been able to quickly assess both the problem and solution. The mark of a great artist indeed. "Incredible how you do that," Benedict praised, allowing his thoughts to come to voice. For, Henry was indeed deserving of such praise. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Thank you for your notes," Benedict told him with the utmost sincerity, his voice evident that he had taken them to heart. Taken them rather seriously. "It allows me to understand which areas are in dire need of improvement, if not the entire thing," he said with a bit of a smile. A joke at his own expense. He was about to continue when Henry then offered him something that caused Benedict to pause in surprise, locking eyes with him. He was offering him to officially become his apprentice. To learn under the tutelage as someone as talented as Henry Granville was truly an honor -- which only constantly reminded Benedict of his humilation when critiquing the man's work. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You would do that for me?" Benedict paused, realizing how the words may have sounded and how . . . in awe he was of them. Of the entire idea of being able to learn from Henry and have more sessions. "I mean . . . " He paused, knowing he couldn't exactly fix the words he said for they were not untrue and the tone was not something he could now fix. "It would be an incredible honor Granville, truly. To learn under you." He paused again. "As your apprentice." Benedict was unsure why he was suddenly rambling. "I am truyl grateful that you would take the time to teach me." His lips curved into a smile, one that held the excitement that he felt over working with Henry and the learning opportunities that would come with it. Tag bunny

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

"It will soon come just as easily to you," Henry promises, giving Benedict a warm smile. It is full of pride and affection for the younger man. "You don't need to scrape the entire thing. Like I've said, Bridgerton -- you've made quite the progress. Though your starting point was not as abysmal as one would expect from a new artist with harsh critiques." He teases and rubs at his shoulder a bit. He finds he doesn't want to stop touching him. Being this close to him felt right; something in his body was telling him that this is exactly what he wanted. No, what he needed. 

They meet eyes, and Henry is silenced for a moment, staring at his beauty. What had he said? Right, apprentice. "Of course it will, Bridgerton. I'm one of the leading minds in painting in the country." He grins mischievously; he likes the teasing, the flirtation. Oh, his smile shines as bright as the morning sun peaking across the horizon, illuminating the world in a soft and mystical glow. He may make a painting emulating just that. He imagines the layout now; it would be more experimental in technique, but Henry thinks he could swing it. . . However, he will think about it more later. 

"Good. It will take a lot of time and dedication. So I hope you are willing to put in the work. It also means you'll be seeing a lot more of me. I also hope you'll be ready for that." He chuckles, and finally he pulls his hand away. (And finds himself disappointed in himself for the act.) "Now, it is late. The models have left. Let your eyes rest for the night. Come, have a drink with me. Lest you want to run out like you do most nights, avoiding me as a conversation partner." Henry takes another drag of his cigarello, tapping some ashes into a tray. He moves to sit in one of the more comfortable chairs, reaching for the nearest half-empty bottle of brandy. 

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton 

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict listened to Henry, taking in every word. Every encouragement. A kind of encouragement that he was unsure he had ever experienced before . . . for it came from someone who understood him in ways that many did not. If any. And so, he found himself continuing to feel flattered, and honored that Henry spoke highly of him, where Benedict failed to offer himself any praise. Though his remark drew a chuckle from the younger male, his words of never living that down holding true. "Our first meeting will perhaps be one of the most embarrassing moments I shall forever remember," he told him honestly, a bit sheepishly, but there was a humour in his tone all the same. And to think, how eagerly he wished to impress Henry now. Where his tongue had been so loose to offer critique over a man as well accomplished as he. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Locking gaze with the man though caused Benedict's smile to slowly fade, not due to any difference in emotion but rather . . . a deep feeling that stirred within him. One that so often did when in the presence of the man, and one that Benedict did not yet know how to name. How to define. Fortunately, Henry spoke and Benedict once again was able to smile with ease. "This is true," he agreed wholeheartedly. "Makes me feel all the more honored to be the student of such brilliance." Words spoken in earnest for he supposed he could not give enough praise to the man, now that he knew him much better than by a mere painting presented at Somerset. And the thought of seeing him more sounded . . . most appealing. A little too appealing perhaps. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You make it sound as if that would be a bad thing," Benedict joked when Henry spoke of seeing much more of him. He knew that he had to tease the situation, lest he say anything too revealing of this . . . eagerness he felt over the thought of it. "You have given me such an incredible opportunity. And I would not wish to disappoint you or give cause for you to regret it." He was dedicated, perhaps more than ever. Eloise once suggested to him to hire a drawing master but Benedict was far more fortunate than that. And he would not take this for granted. Standing up, he reached for his coat which came off as he had become more comfortable throughout the evening . . . preparing to make his leave. As he always did when he was the last one present. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ But he paused when Henry suggested having a drink with him. Benedict just stared at him for a moment, the thought a tempting one but . . . he also knew that art was the excuse he used to visit Henry, and remain in his company. And yes, it was perhaps true that he often fled once that portion of the evening was over. For reasons that he still did not fully comprehend, but all of them were certainly not because he did not wish to be in the artist's company. He knew he could easily come up with an excuse of how he would need to return home, how his family was expecting him . . . but instead, he set down his coat, making no move to put it on. "I'm not -- " He began to say, trying to figure out how to phrase it politely, and truthfully. "I mean, I do not intend--" To avoid him. Giving up on what he was even trying to say, he made his way to the chair near Henry and seated himself. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "I would merely have thought you'd grow sick of my presence, after overstaying my welcome on numerous occasions." He decided to respond with a joke -- somewhat of one. It was better that than try to explain why exactly he left so quickly. For the same reasons he could not help but look at the man longer than he should. Or enjoy the casual touches he offered and feel the immediate deprivation of them when he pulled away. Or reasons that his mind often went to him even when they were not in each other's company. Drinking with him, was either quite a brilliant idea . . . or a dangerous one for the Bridgerton. "You are a most gracious." Generous with his time and resources that he offered and . . . a great deal more. The sentiment strong in Benedict's words and knowing that he would need to restrain emotion from his voice so not to let whatever felt within him, come to surface. Tag bunny

                        the rules of society.