Do you ever knock?! for Henry

[zora]

Do you ever knock?!

bunny

[bunny]

16. Fighting with their Significant Other.

"You knew this day would come, Henry!" 

You knew this day would come.  Oh, how silly a statement.  No, Henry did not imagine the love of his life would just stop loving him, even if he did get married.  Alas, his chosen wife would not welcome their lifestyle, and Henry knew that, but -- they couldn't have worked it out?  Sincerely?  He's breathing harshly, standing there in his bedroom, feeling like his whole world is crashing down upon him.  

He blinks a few times, trying to find his voice.  He doesn't expect his first words to be: "you're a coward. You're a bloody coward!"  Wetherby looks pissed at that, and good.  Henry can barb, too, if that's what this is about.  He can hurt just as badly, be just as angry.  "How many years have we -- --"

The door opens, and both men's heads shoot to the new arrival.  They both look like children caught doing something they shouldn't, even if they stand across the room from each other with red faces -- from the anger and the alcohol.  Wetherby quickly excuses himself with a nod.  "Hi, Gen,"  and escapes quickly down the stairs, leaving the two of them alone. 

Henry clears his throat, turning to her, trying to smile but it looks as fake as it feels.  "Hello, Gen,"  he greets, and with trembling hands he goes to the brandy decanter on his dressing table.  "Can I interest you in something to drink?"  He can hear the party below, but he doesn't feel like fun at the moment.  This isn't over between Wetherby and him, but it's beginning to feel like the end of the world. 

Tag: zora

[zora]

template by punki of adoxography

do you ever knock!?

--- for bunny

Lucy and Gen were busy enjoying marital bliss, even though the marriage in question wasn’t between the two of them and the bed they just turned into a mess of silken sheets had been one the lady of the house was supposed to be sharing with her husband, not the modiste. Lucy had fallen asleep in Gen’s arms despite the ton’s most depraved bunch wreaking havoc downstairs, somehow able to apparently drown out the sounds of drinking and cheering. They were sounds of happiness, of freedom – unlike the noises coming from what seemed to be just next door to them. Sounds Genevieve simply couldn’t let Lucy hear, much less wake up to. So she gently pushed her aside and covered her with a soft blanket, rearranging the pillows around her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, placing a soft kiss on her forehead before heading out, begrudgingly standing in front of the door that separated her from the apparent war going on in Henry’s chambers.

Silence – as soon as Genevieve entered the room, two pairs on eyes settling on her. “Excusez-moi.” She offered Wetherby a soft smile, her hand reassuringly squeezing his arm as he made his way past her. She couldn’t have possibly imagined what was going on in this room, but years of dealing with proper and posh ladies have thought her just how to see past the façade and look at what was really going on in people’s heads. Henry was never easy to read, but on a night like this, after a discussion as heated as the one she just walked into… Gen didn’t need to be an empath to figure out what was going on. “For me, perhaps. And for you… only if you promise me to not act in haste tonight, Henry.” Making her way over towards him, she fished two glasses out of their usual spot. “I cannot lie to you and say I didn’t at least suspect what I was walking into, but… there have been times when I wished somebody would stop me. The things we say, we often cannot take back.”