People Who Hate Happiness For Henry

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

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                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

#48: Your muse comes to mine after being assaulted. 

THE HOUR IS LATE. Henry hears the knocking upon his door after the second round of it. He's alone in the studio -- Lucy had long since gone to bed. He yawns, gripping a candle and -- for caution -- the fireplace poker. It is not entirely strange that someone shows up late in the night because of the nature of artists, but usually there is some notice beforehand. Henry is comfortable, missing his shirt at this hour and instead only wearing his trousers and a silk robe that hangs open over his frame. He is in the comfort of his home, and it shows in his appearance in spite of the late night guest. 

"I am coming," he says at another bout of knocks, glancing up the staircase to make sure Lucy has not been woken; he would hate for her to lose sleep. They really are partners, two like-minded individuals who have so much in common. They may not be in romantic love with each other, but they do love each other deeply. Henry really does only want the best for her, for her to feel freedom in this stuffy life. He does not hear footsteps from above -- she must be still asleep. Good. He places down the candle by the door and holds the poker close as he goes to open the door -- --

And he gasps at the visage before him, dropping the poker. "Benedict," he says, and he forgets himself. This may be the first time he's used the man's given name, but Benedict Bridgerton is standing there in the dim light of his home with blood on his person. Henry immediately reaches for his face, cradling it to check him for further injury. He cannot see well in this light. "Come on, come in." He says quickly, moving his hands away, feeling some blood on his hand from other's busted nose. "Easy," and he goes to support Benedict by the waist after closing the door behind him. "Easy now. We will get you right as rain." He already is considering the possibility of calling the doctor, but he will examine Bridgerton himself first. He leads him to the only lit room in the house at the moment, the studio, and guides him to lay on the chaise lounge. "What has happened? Where does it hurt?"

Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict was trying to piece together what had happened once he rejoined the conscious world. Had he even been fully unconscious? He was not entirely certain. All he knew was that he could taste blood, and feel the intense throbbing on his chest, undoubtedly bruised. His vision was blurred and he felt a similar ache in his face. Perhaps, bruises touched his skin there too. And the fall on the ground may have contributed to his blurry surroundings as well. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He remembered a few figures suddenly surrounding him, an immediate punch to disorientate him and perhaps blows to his chest to hinder him from being able to follow. Not that he would have. But the assault had been enough to make him unable to move for some time. Gaining what strength he could, he staggered to his feet, groaning in pain at the movement and tried to focus on taking one step at a time. Glancing around him, his vision was slowly starting to clear just enough to get his bearings. From what he could tell in his spinning mind, he was not far from Henry's house. How he hated to do this, but his first instinct of the closest place that he felt most safe . . . was Henry Granville's residence. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ With that destination in mind, he travelled the distance, adrenaline coursing through him to get to his desired location. Knocking on the door, he leaned against it, closing his eyes for a moment, desperately hoping he answered. Immediate relief flooded through him when he did, feeling his hands which provided a soothing sensation and immediate comfort upon his skin. Yes. Benedict felt safe. He brought him in, and once Benedict felt Henry's arm around him to offer support, Benedict leaned into his touch, the ease of his support to help him towards somewhere more comfortable much welcome and needed. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Once they got to the studio, Benedict lay where directed, slightly cringing at the shift, and taking a moment to catch his breath. Henry was asking him what happened, but he knew his first words needed to be ones of apology. "Apologies," he breathed, knowing that once this wore off, he would feel both embarrassed and ashamed for arriving at Henry's at this hour, and in this state of bloodied and bruised skin and torn clothing. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "For this, inconvenience." The word sounded almost humorous . . . but Benedict needed to apologize for all this, which he was certain he would reiterate when in a better state. Yet, he continued to selfishly bask in the ease that Henry's voice and presence provided him, working to continue to answer his questions. "It was a mugging," he explained, knowing that much without checking for his belongings. "It is just my chest and, whatever is evident on my face," he said, letting out a slight huff of amusement though it was strained. He tasted the blood, and knew it stained his clothing . . . not to mention what he saw from where Henry touched him. Tag bunny Note: Hahha I made him get mugged again! Cause . . . I'm just that nice to my muse!!!

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

IT WAS A MUGGING, Benedict explains, and Henry sees red for a moment. How vile. How dishonorable to take advantage of a man just walking down the street. Benedict did not deserve such treatment; he was a good man. No, a great man. And this is how he is rewarded? With blood and bruising? Henry reaches down to brush some hair away from his face, trying not to hurt further what has already been damaged. "I am sorry to hear it," Henry says softly, unable to keep himself from trying to soothe him with light touches, carding his fingers through Ben's hair. "Just rest." He urges. "I will take care of you. You are safe now, Bridgerton." 

Ah, he has fallen for him. 

It is the first thought that crossed his mind as he stared down at the beaten Benedict on the chaise. . . the fear that had surged through him upon seeing him in such a state. . . he wanted to protect him. Henry was not a man of violence, so what good could he have done? Perhaps talked his way out of pain with just giving away the money. . . alas, he was not there, but he can pick up the pieces. He pulls his hand away, pressing his lips together thoughtfully as he realizes how familiar he is being. 

He will dwell on that later. "I will return momentarily." Henry promises, and he leaves the room. The servants are sleeping as well at this hour, so he must go to the kitchens on his own. He grabs a bowl of water and a cloth, and he goes to his stash of opium; it will dull the pain. Henry returns shortly to the room and drags over a chair, putting the bowl against it. "Let's get you cleaned up," he murmurs, soaking the cloth in water. He also goes to pour some of the liquid opium into a spoon before holding it to Benedict's lips. "Do you trust me? This will ease the pain. Not too much of this, or you'll be flying into tomorrow." He teases with a sad smile. It really does pain him to see him like this.

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict wondered if it was wrong of him to feel such intense . . . comfort from Granville. His hand gently brushing away Benedict's hair from his face, his calming voice. Perhaps Benedict was a bit delirious and disoriented, but he could not deny how . . . good it felt. How it brought him to ease and allowed him to steady his breathing. To relax himself. Knowing that he was indeed safe and selfishly soaking in each tender touch and soothing word. Perhaps it wasn't just close proximity that brought him to Granville's house, but something more. Something deeper. And hearing Henry assure him he was safe . . . Benedict knew as much. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Yes. He felt safe with the man, constantly. "Thank you," he breathed again, continuing to express his gratitude to the other male. He closed his eyes as Henry told him that he would return and could hear his footsteps fade. Slowly opening them once more, heavily lidded through the grogginess he still felt, Benedict attempted to sit up a little, hating how helpless and immobile he was. When Granville returned, Benedict was only further recognizing the inconvenience he had posed, for Henry himself had gotten the necessary items to clean him off. Guilt weighed at the Bridgerton's heart yet he lacked the strength to . . . deny himself. Yes. Quite selfish indeed of him. When the older male asked him if he trusted him, Benedict's response was immediate. He didn't even know if Granville expected an answer but something in Benedict made him want to -- need to -- answer. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Emphatically." Because yes, he trusted the artist. Perhaps more than he was capable of expressing. And so, he parted his lips, welcoming the liquid to help soothe the throbbing and thus, not be such an invalid. Benedict swallowed the liquid, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before reaching out, his hand resting on top of Granville's that held the spoon. Benedict locked eyes with the man, wanting him to know just how much he appreciated this and hoped it was evident in his expression -- despite the evidence of recent events. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "I appreciate this, and you . . . " Benedict paused, hating that he felt so dizzy that stringing words together proved to be a bit of a challenge. "For your hospitality and care." For the way he immediately took him in and helped him. Realizing his gaze was lingering as was his hand on Henry's, Benedict quickly lowered it and instead, reached for the cloth, indicating that he could -- and should -- be the one doing this. Granville had already done too much. "Flying does not seem like such an unwelcome thought right now," Benedict said with amusement in his tone, referring back to the opium that Granville had given him. Words meant to help ease the . . . situation. Tag bunny

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

HENRY PAUSES as Benedict meets his eyes. Oh, such a pained look from him, but there's something else. Henry wets his lips. "Of course, Benedict," he says softly to his appreciation. He lets out a breath he didn't know he held when Ben pulls his hand back. And then he realizes that the cloth has been grabbed. "Hey," he says, giving his hand a little slap. "Allow me to do that. You are in pain and bleeding, dear."

The dear slips out, but he is so fond of Bridgerton. "Just relax and let me. Please." And he takes the cloth from him, gentle with it. The first thing he does is clean the blood on his hand, slow and soft. He meets Benedict's eyes as he does. This is... so very intimate. "Keep still." He whispers softly, reaching for his chin, holding it. Henry dips the cloth into the water and squeezes it out. He brings the damp rag to a cut across Benedict's face. "Just like that. Good." Henry doesn't realize he's brushing his thumb gently along his skin. 

He takes care in cleaning the rest of the cuts until Benedict is free of blood. . . and then Henry remembers himself, pulling his hands away, embarrassed. "How are you feeling? Is the tonic working? Do you still feel... pain?" 

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict smiled, slightly wincing in pain at what the expression had made him feel, though he couldn't help it upon Henry practically shooing his hand away. He younger male made no second attempt to try and clean himself, being in compliance with Henry's words. Instead, he followed direction, remaining still as he felt the tenderness in which Henry began to clean his face. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Benedict could not help but feel it wrong of him to be so . . . comforted in this moment. To selfishly bask in the attentions that Henry gave him, and allow himself to drift into a sea of ease. Feeling cared for. Feeling safe. Those previous feelings of selfishness for taking advantage of a man as kind hearted as Granville drastically increasing in the young Bridgerton and yet . . . he did nothing to change it, nor reveal it. He merely stayed still, the refreshing water and caress of Henry's fingers, and the comfort of his soothing voice encouraging him, talking to him. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ His latter question pulled Benedict back to the present -- a good thing before he got too lost in all sensations within him. Benedict felt the immediate deprivation of Henry's hand upon him when he pulled away after presumably the blood was cleaned. How was he feeling he asked. "Safe." The word escaping his lips before he had a chance to stop it. Though he knew that was most probably not what Henry was asking. Did he still feel pain he asked. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "No," Benedict breathed, though whether it was due to the tonic or the comfort of the artist's presence, he was unsure. "No, I believe it is helping ease the pain," Benedict added on, as it was not a total lie. He attempted to sit up a bit more, taking a slow breath once he shifted. "I suppose the rest will just take time to heal," he added on, trying to break free from this calming lull he had been entranced in. Tag bunny

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

SAFE. Henry blushes, halting in his washing. He watches as Benedict tries to get up and gently places a hand on his shoulder. "Rest." He urges him quietly, squeezing. Though, he considers for a moment. . . Benedict should not go home like this, especially after taking morphine. He may need more of it. What can he do? He will send word to Lord Bridgerton and the Dowager Viscountess in the morning to alert that Ben is safe, but he must urge the second son to stay here for the night. He rubs circles into his back as he thinks. . .

"Do you think you could make it up the stairs with some help? I can boil some water for a bath for you." He's not completely useless. "And then, Benedict, I strongly urge that you stay here tonight and rest. We may need to call the doctor if your condition does not improve, and I would not have you die in the streets like a beggar." Henry squeezes his shoulder again, guiding Ben to look at him with his other hand. Oh, god, he feels the urge to kiss him -- but their friendship is not like that. He wouldn't dare push the barriers. Not when he was unsure of Benedict's feelings toward men. He tolerated Henry's presence, and for that he is grateful. 

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Henry asked him if he felt he could make it up the stairs with support . . . offering to boil some water . . . and then, encouraging him to spend the night. Oh how terribly selfish of Benedict to have taken advantage of him. The reason of his coming here quickly recalled in his mind as the guilt set in for how Henry tended to him, and how generous the man was being. Benedict looked at Henry, the younger male's eyes heavily lidded. A combination of the ordeal, exhaustion, the previous pain, and the opium. A terrible combination indeed. Perhaps making him slightly delirious as the adrenaline truly started to wane and the fear of incoherence starting to sink in. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Have I not inconvenienced you enough?" He asked him, somewhat rhetorical but the truth was in his words. The touch of Granville's hand directed him to maintain eye contact, to look at him, was another added sensation that Benedict was basking in. "Your home was not even close." Guilt in his words for he knew now that it was not proximity that brought him here. Yes, it had not been terribly far but Benedict surely could have gone elsewhere. The truth of the matter was that he did not want to. He wasn't even certain if his words made sense for all the inner thought that went along with it. Nor, did he care. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "I can walk upstairs," he finally said. Unable to debate the matter even though he knew it was terribly wrong of him to take advantage of Henry like this. Benedict huffed with amusement at his latter words, processing in his slow mind. "Let us hope, it would not come to that," he said almost jokingly. To die in the streets . . . a terrible outcome that would be. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "If you are certain, that I am not imposing." Benedict wasn't even entirely certain what the altnerative was. He did not wish to alarm his family at this hour and . . . would it not be a further inconvenience to ask Granville to take him back to his home? No. Benedict knew that either way, he had dragged Granville into his . . . situation. "I would be indebted to you. As I am now." Yes. The delirium was slowly making its way to cloud Benedict's mind of better guarding his words. Tag bunny

                        the rules of society.

[bunny]

HENRY STARES. "Inconvenience?" He asks incredulously. "You think you are imposing on me, Bridgerton?" Henry shakes his head softly, giving him a tut. Of course. He reaches to gently brush his fingers through Benedict's hair -- a fond and soft gesture. "I am happy you came to me in your time of need. It means a great deal to me that you trust me this much." He does not let his touch linger. "I am glad to help you; it is my pleasure. You are never an inconvenience to me, so do not fill your head with such lies." 

He is relieved that Bridgerton will stay the night as well. Henry will watch over him to make sure these are only superficial wounds. He still may call the doctor in the morning as a precaution, but for now. . . "All right. Let's get you upstairs." He says softly and goes to lift him up onto his feet. Henry will support him with an arm around his waist, encouraging Ben to put his arm around his shoulder. "Let me know when you feel steady, and we will make the trek." 

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict did indeed feel as if he was imposing on Henry, but he would dwell on that when he was more clear of mind. Right now, he could not help but selfishly bask in the offered comfort. Of remaining here tonight . . . of his hand running through his hair. "Thank you," he said again, unsure how else he could truly convey his gratitude -- perhaps words were not enough. "That is . . . this is all very of you." To say the very least. And it was indeed true, he did trust Granville. His place one that Benedict knew he was safe in, company he knew he was safe in. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Perhaps I will argue that in the morning," Benedict said jokingly with a bit of a smile, trying not to laugh for it caused an intense pain to shoot through his chest. When Henry offered his support to help him stand, Benedict willingly took it, moving an arm around Henry's shoulders in return, while Benedict's other hand went to his chest, over his ribs as if that would help cease the pain. Which, it did not. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Perhaps it was merely instinct. He swallowed and gave a couple quick nods as if to indicate that he was ready for the movement, focusing his energy on making one step at a time . . . just as he had done to get here in the first place. "I hope that this has not . . . woken Mrs. Granville," he said with sudden realization of how much a commotion he feared to cause in Henry's home. But alas, he also needed to focus on something else, the movements leaving him more winded than he would have liked yet refused to slow to a halt. Surely, he could make this short journey to a room. Tag bunny

                        the rules of society.