The Rain Is Always Gonna Come

[lennie3]

There were many women whom would not have understood the meaning of Lewis' words, Genevieve was not one of them. Even as the polite smile on her lips remained she took a step back, her skin flushing warmly across her face and neck. She understood well enough the belief Lewis seemed to have formed of her relations with the man whose bedchambers they were currently in. Considering that was where he was examining her certainly did not do them any favours in making it appear as if they were anything but just friends.

Truthfully Genevieve was not even sure if her and Benedict were friends. If this had happened weeks earlier Lewis would have been right in his assumption, and yet now those strenuous activities he referred to were surely nowhere near in the separate futures her and Benedict needed to share. The two of them had shared so much, they had lives which were so very different, for them to simply be friends it was a development to what they had shared Genevieve was not sure she could take.

But she still acknowledged Lewis' instructions with a nod, "I will ensure to get the rest you have recommended," she said, not quite commenting fully on his words, it seemed unnecessary to provide detail or excuses as to how she would listen to what he had told her to do. For a moment the smile on her lips appeared amused, "in fact I believe the medical recommendation to avoid a corset for a while might be the most wonderful news I have received tonight," she mused. She accepted the little vial of laudanum with a grateful nod, "thank you," Genevieve hummed, "again, despite the misunderstanding of the extent of my injuries I appreciate the speed at which you were able to come," she said. It still felt as if the surgeon they had practically dragged from the comfort of his own home for not a very large reason deserved further thanks.

tag Benedict Bridgerton & Lewis Anwyl .

[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

Lewis nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she accepted his instructions without taking any offence. He had feared she might, given the obvious implication of his remark, but medical concern had trumped the usual delicate tiptoeing of social conversation. If those longing glances between Benedict and Genevieve were any indication, the two were a little more than just friends, and if that was the case... well, he had to point out that Genevieve would be doing herself no favours by exerting herself once he took his leave. He was grateful that she had taken that suggestion in stride without comment. 

Turning aside once more, he gathered up his bag, hat, and coat, then dipped into a slight bow in her direction. "I will take my leave then, madam." It occurred to him, only then, that he had no idea what her name even was. Well, no matter — he was not the gossiping sort, in any case, and he was hardly about to go around speaking of this to anyone else. "I trust you will feel much improved by morning." 

With that, he departed from the room. As much as he desperately wanted to slink his way out of the house as fast as possible and make his way back to the comfort of his own bed, he knew it would be incredibly unprofessional to leave without speaking to Benedict. He sought the man out, therefore, in the sitting room, hat and coat still in hand. "Mr. Bridgerton?"

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict had not in fact returned to the room with a glass of brandy whilst Lewis had been present. If the circumstances were at all different, it was rather . . . humorous, that Benedict be asked to leave from his own bedroom. Had the man been arrogant or proud, then perhaps he would have taken offense to it. But fortunately, Benedict was neither. And so he did not return to the room until he was certain the work was done. He had been sitting on the chair in the drawing room, his mind trying not to go over and over the actual incident that she encountered. Trying to keep his emotions that such thoughts provoked well contained, for he would be even less helpful if he allowed them to surface. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ And so, he tried to distract himself. He picked up the few things that he had left messy in the room, and gathered the man's payment. Such tasks had not taken long so he found himself sitting once more. It was either that, or pacing and Benedict presumed the less noise he made, the better. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Fortunately, he heard footsteps make their way down the stairs and Benedict immediately stood up from his seated position, making his way to meet Lewis by the time he reached the bottom of the steps. "It is done then?" He both asked and stated, referring to the examination and hopefully, medicine to help ease Genevieve's pain, his words an opening to find out as much as he could regarding her condition and . . . once more, if there was anything he could do to help. For being so . . . helpless, so useless, was quite unsettling for the Bridgerton nobleman. Tag Lewis Anwyl & lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

In spite of his earlier annoyance — which, admittedly, had not fully abated — Lewis could not help but feel some sympathy for Benedict. Even if his level of concern had been rather ludicrous considering the actual extent of her wounds, it was clear that the poor fellow's distress had been genuine. Lewis almost felt guilty for directing the man out of the room; necessary though he had thought it to be, he now had a rather sad mental image of Benedict pacing fretfully back and forth in this room with no news. 

With a slight sigh, he set his bag down at his feet. Benedict deserved more of an explanation than simply a quick word or two before a hasty departure, and if Lewis was going to stand here for a while, he was far too weary to keep his bag in hand as he did so. The initial adrenaline that had carried him through the journey here and the examination upstairs had thoroughly waned by now, leaving him more exhausted than he would have liked to admit. 

"It is done," he confirmed quietly. "I have given her laudanum for the pain, which should aid her sleep, as well. She has bruising, but no broken bones, and that cut on her forehead will not be deep enough to scar. She will be well in a few day's time." 

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict listened intently to every word Lewis said, attention completely fixated on news of her condition. The second son slowly nodded once Lewis was done explaining and . . . processed it all. He understood, of course he did. And while there was inevitable relief that she had no broken bones, nor marks deep enough to scar . . . that fact that she had any marks at all, was nothing short of worrisome. Concerning. Upsetting. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ With Lewis' thorough explanation, Benedict found himself without any further questions. Or, perhaps he did have them and they were merely numbed by the emotions brought forth from this incident. He had not even realized that his gaze had fallen to look past the man as he could not get the image out of his mind of a woman being beat by a group of men. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Of Genevieve being beaten by a group of men. While the anger remained within, the soft concern was still upon his face. Though, he supposed the worry somewhat waned in light of Lewsi' news. Finally, Benedict looked at the surgeon once more. "Thank you." His words were thick with sincerity; not words spoken in the typical, professional manner of a man who had called upon him. No. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ His gratitude for Lewis ran deeper, and while Genevieve's injuries were not life threatening . . . Benedict's words of gratitude made it sound as if Lewis had done far more for her that he could express. "Thank you, Lewis," he repeated, another slow nod to further express his appreciation. He knew that manners dictated he should offer him a drink, but considering the late hour and the fact that Benedict did not want to be from Genevieve for much longer, he did not make offer. Perhaps, another time. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "My driver will see to it that you return home promptly," he told him, so that Lewis would not have any expense from this trip, nor need to make arrangements for his departure as he had to for his arrival. But Benedict intended to compensate him for that too. Turning back into the drawing room, Benedict went to the desk where he had pouch heavy with payment. It was far more than the average amount any surgeon would charge but . . . Benedict was paying for more than just the services and medicine. He was paying for the inconvenience. The discretion. Though he knew that neither need be stated to the man. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ After all, there was no monetary value that could be placed on Genevieve's life. He walked back to where Lewis stood and extended the payment to him. He had called on Lewis not because he believed Genevieve would require a surgeon . . . but because he felt he could trust the man. Enough to come to his home and tend to her. "I will make arrangements for your departure," he told him. "Please, have a seat as it will be a few moments," he encouraged him, knowing the man must be tired. Tag Lewis Anwyl & lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[Lewis Anwyl]

THE   CAUSE   YOU   ARE   SUPPORTING IS  NOT  OUR  CAUSE,  BUT  YOURS tagged Benedict Bridgerton  & lennie3

Lewis could not deny that he was relieved at Benedict's assurance that the man's own private driver would conduct him home. Even in this part of town, getting a cab at this hour could be a bit of an ordeal. A sense of politeness urged him to put up at least some token protest, to insist that it was really too generous, but he was far too weary to think of that now. 

Speaking of generous, by God, the payment! Lewis had to make a conscious effort not to let his eyes fly wide with surprise as Benedict placed the weighty pouch in his palm. He had thought bitterly to himself at some point that the Bridgerton fellow had better compensate him well for such a late call, but he had not expected even half this amount. Again, he toyed with the idea of protesting against Benedict's generosity; in the end, however, he held his tongue. He was eager to get home and Benedict was no doubt eager to get upstairs to his... friend. Neither of them would benefit themselves by haggling over price. If Benedict could comfortably afford this much of a fee, so be it — Lewis would not complain. 

Putting the pouch into his pocket, he nodded his thanks. He did not quite feel right leaving without another word; so, after a moment's hesitation and with rather uncharacteristic softness, he said, "She is fortunate to have such a fine man looking after her well-being, Mr. Bridgerton. Rest easy." With that, he bowed, donned his hat, picked up his bag, and made his way out into the entrance hall to await the carriage. 

OWL

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Lewis's words lingered in Benedict's mind. He had offered a small, soft smile to the surgeon before he exited. Closing the door behind him, Benedict remained still for a moment. The surgeon's words truly . . . touching. Having touched Benedict's very heart. He did not have to say them unless he meant them and yet, it was indeed saddening to think, that it was no longer his place to look after Genevieve. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ It may be true that she had come here, and that inevitably involved him in ensuring her recovery . . . but it was not his place, nor his right. He could only help, as much as she would allow him to. Perhaps not tonight, but in the coming days when he knew that irregardless. . . they would be forced to go their separate ways. Taking a slow breath Benedict made his way to the glass of brandy that he had previously poured, and finally made his way back upstairs to see Genevieve. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He paused at the doorframe, first checking to see if she was resting, but as she seemed awake, Benedict proceeded to enter. "I was under direct orders to bring you a brandy," he said with half a smile. Someone else may have found it preposterous that someone of lower rank could order about nobility. And yet, Benedict never saw it as such. A man should be judged first and foremost by their character. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Approaching the bed, Benedict lay down the glass on the side table, his eye searching over Genevieve. "How do you feel?" He asked softly. Had the medicine helped? Was it starting to soothe the pain? Did she wish to now sleep? So many questions and yet, Benedict just asked the singular simple -- yet important -- one, his eyes never leaving her face. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Genevieve offered Lewis a small smile in thanks as he left the room, she knew she had already said her thanks but after the trip the surgeon had made it seemed he had earned her gratitude. Left alone in the bedchambers Genevieve uncorked the vial of laudanum before downing the contents of it. She sighed, setting the empty vial down on the side table before falling back to sit on the bed, hands twisted together on her lap.

For so many reasons Genevieve knew she should take her leave now, she could ignore her corset and slip back into her dress and catch a cab to get home. Benedict's home had seemed like the reasonable place to go as adrenaline pumped through her veins and now as the rush was dying down her own decision making no longer seemed so sound. Doubt rushing through her mind. She had no reason to believe he'd want her in his home. Benedict was kind, kinder than most men she had encountered in her life, him helping her was not proof he would not prefer if she left.

The sound of his voice was enough to break her from her train of thought. Genevieve swallowed. She wondered if there'd come a time when seeing him would not make her heart feel as if it was close to stopping. It was beginning to hit her how overwhelmingly his kindness had really been since she arrived on his doorstep. He had called a physican to his home in the middle of the night to inspect her injuries, a trip which it turned out Lewis Anwyl had mostly been forced to make in vain.

Her gaze followed him as he stepped into the room, setting the glass down on the table. At the time when Lewis told him to fetch it Genevieve had been ready to protest against him leaving the room; now that she saw the glass standing there it looked more tempting. She smiled softly, her eyes moving back to his, "I'm fine," she insisted, "merely a dose of laudanum for now, and a rather stern insisting I'll take it easy for a few days." Silence settled for a moment. She wanted to stay. But it couldn't be up to her and Genevieve stood, "do you want me to leave?"

tag Benedict Bridgerton & Lewis Anwyl .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict gave a small smile hearing that she was fine, that she had taken the medicine and been given strict instruction to rest in the days to come. That certainly sounded about right. He did not want her over exerting herself when she needed to recover . . . both physically, and mentally. For the effects of such an assault, surely were not merely of the physical nature. There had to be some emotional repercussions as well. Though -- as much as Benedict did not wish to think of it right now -- he knew that that part of her healing, would have little to do with him. As much as he wanted to help her. As much as he wanted to be there through her recovery. Even the physical . . . what right did he have to ensure she was resting, and checking up on her regularly. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ But before he could say anything else on the matter, she began to rise to her feet, asking him if he wanted her to leave. Benedict took the slightest step back at the sudden movement, though it was unexpected . . . perhaps he should have expected it. She had asked him to stay the night earlier, and he had merely assumed she would. But now, after she had been seen, checked on, and perhaps of a . . . clearer mind, she was readying to leave? "No," Benedict immediately said, his voice soft yet sure at the same time. "Genevieve, you have been through a terrible ordeal." His tone remained consistent. The thought of her leaving at this hour and being at her home, alone . . . did she prefer that? Did she no longer wish to be here? It would indeed make sense, considering her previous decision when it came to them. Maybe he had no right to protest, or convince her to stay. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He felt conflicted, wanting to continue to care for her and ensure she was well . . . yet knowing that he'd lost such a right and she may wish to reaffirm their distance. "I . . . " He paused for a moment, looking at her as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. "Do not wish for you to leave." He hoped she understood that he said it with his own understanding, that they were not together. That he would not do anything to make her uncomfortable. But . . . nor did he wish for her to feel trapped here. "But, should you desire to return home--" A thought that was most, unappealing. For her to home at this hour and be by herself after such a traumatic night. "I will make arrangements." He could not keep her here against her wishes. He would not. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You are welcome here," he continued, knowing that he should perhaps just have left it at that, but needed her to know that she was safe here . . . that she could continue to trust him. "You should . . . stay here." Allow him to care for her. Ensure that she is well for the night. Safe for the night. His gaze holding soft intent, held onto her face as he continued, knowing his voice dropped a little lower and that he should perhaps give her more physical space. "I will not do anything to betray your trust." He had to say that; he had to tell her that he would respect her decision, and would not do anything to compromise her or her previous choice. Fighting against the very temptation to even touch her . . . because as he had to keep reminding himself, it was no longer his place to do so. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Even this, standing a few steps away from him both of them speaking in a tone of voice which lacked the simple teasing which always had seemed to be there felt wrong. From that first conversation that had turned out to change so much Genevieve had always found it so easy to talk to him. Now, their words sounded so very carefully strung together, conversation no longer flowing like it was no big deal, like there was nothing which could ever come between them. She wanted that feeling back, more than anything did Genevieve wish for things to be simple between them again.

She was the one who had ensured simple was not possible. But ignoring the inevitable ending of what they had shared had started to feel impossible. For her entire life she had looked after herself, and ending her affair with Benedict had been nothing more than that. She had made the decision to put herself first no matter how much it pained her to do so when that decision meant she wouldn't get to see him again. At least she had thought she wouldn't get to see him when she made the choice; Genevieve hadn't planned on being mugged and him being the only one she could think of to turn to.

Just as she was about to insist she'd leave Benedict spoke and her shoulders sagged in relief, revealing to herself just how much she had hoped he wouldn't ask her to leave. Despite all thoughts of rational thinking telling her she should ask him if he could arrange a way for her to go home Genevieve wanted to stay. The small smile on her lips twitched slightly, threatening to grow larger and Genevieve pressed her lips together tightly to stop it. Reaching for the glass of brandy he had set down on the table Genevieve took a rather generous sip of it before setting the glass back down. She had never felt the need for liquid courage before around him, but quite obviously things had changed.

"I do not wish to leave," she exhaled softly, emotion swimming in her dark eyes as they met his. She knew she did not have the right to stay, but as he told her he wanted her to stay her confession seemed impossible to hold back. Benedict was right, regardless of her injuries the experience had still taken place and that was enough reason for her to want to stay somewhere safe. He made her feel safe. Even if nothing about what they had shared had turned out to be safe for her heart Genevieve felt safe in his company and now it was a feeling she wanted to cling to more than ever. "So, if it is not a bother I... I believe I will stay."



He spoke of trust and Genevieve's blood ran cold as ice. Without closing the distance between them fully she stepped closer, close enough to reach out for him, only stopping herself as she curled her fingers into the sleeves of the shirt she wore. "Of course you wouldn't," she insisted, "you could never do anything to betray my trust, Benedict," her voice was soft, but the sincere passion burned in her eyes, no matter what had happened between them she needed him to know this was the truth. It all may have changed but the faith she had in him, in the person he was, it was still there. Genevieve let out a small breath, fingers unclenching as she relaxed and her hands reached for his, holding it in both her own as she said in a quiet whisper,  "I trust you."

tag Benedict Bridgerton & Lewis Anwyl .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict's eyes followed her movements as she took a drink of the brandy -- rather glad he had brought it if had indeed been wanted by her. He releasesd the breath he had not even realized he had been holding when she said that she did not wish to leave. Relief washing over him that she would remain here. That he need not worry about her being alone tonight. That there would be someone else around to aid her. To . . . comfort her. Even if was merely be presence or the knowledge that there was another in the house. He locked eyes with Genevieve, taking in the emotion he saw in it, met with his own. As they were so careful with their words . . . it was far less easy to be guarded with their emotions. Especially when the joy of being together had been the fact that they need not be so guarded. The joy, and yet the ultimate reason for their relationship ending it would seem. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Very good," he said quietly, trying to think of a safe verbal response to her saying that she did not wish to leave. One that was not too . . . revealing of how he truly felt upon hearing this. Though he supposed it was futile as regardless of what was said, their emotions betrayed any attempt to keep conversation casual. "It is never a bother," he continued to assure her, genuine in his claim. "You are never a bother." Never wanting her to think that she was a bother nor inconvenience. So long as she desired it, or was at least comfortable with it . . . her company was welcome. Though, Benedict knew at the back of his mind that this did not mean the repair of their relationship. No matter what he longed for, or what his heart may have ached for . . . eventually, she would leave, and the painful separation would need be endured again. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ But still. It was worth it, if it meant she was here, safe, with him. He watched her step closer, and while his eyes never left hers . . . knew that her hand had nearly reached out. He had to fight every urge, every instinct within him not to do the same and to hold her hand . . . yet, it seemed he would not need to fight it for long. She was strong in her belief that he would not betray her trust, and it truly meant a great deal to him. More than perhaps he was capable of expressing. And then she held his hand, and just like that, he felt his body warm with the sensation of her familiar touch. Though despite its familiarity, one that he had not felt in longer than he would have liked. He didn't dare to move, afraid of ruining the moment should he be so bold and to return his own touch somehow. Instead, his mind absorbed her words, grateful for them . . . honored by them. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "That means a great deal. I will cherish that." And her. Yet that remained unspoken. But her trust, meant a lot. Her faith in him, meant a lot. Unable to resist, he reached out the other hand to place on hers so that her hand was in between both of his, offering a small smile and letting his eyes speak what his lips could not. Knowing he had to break the moment before he did infact betray anything . . . he slowly -- not out of will but necessity -- released her hand. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You should lay down," he gently encouraged. "I can only imagine how tired you must be." After all she had been through. "And if you would permit me to remain for a little while, I can ensure you are . . . comfortable. And not in need of anything." The need to hold her threatening to burst from within. The desire to ask her if he could at the tip of his tongue but swallowed back. So instead, all he could do was offer his presence, and would remain respectful of what his words assured her of. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

It seemed the one thing they were still able to do was communicate in a way which was so very undeniable. Their words may have become more guarded, carefully selected as to not complicate anything further. But while they were going through all that effort to do such their emotions were betraying them through looks and the way they simply moved. Genevieve sucked in a shallow breath as Benedict placed his other hand over hers, clasping her smaller hand between his as he looked at her, emotional intent in his eyes seemingly impossible to look away from. She could spend a lifetime looking into his eyes, and she would have been happy had it been her place to do so.

Genevieve understood why he let go. She understood and knew if he had not done so she would have needed to find reason within her to do it. They could not stand there not speaking and holding each other's hands too afraid of what their next actions may be. It still brought shivers down her spine as his skin brushed over hers as their hands parted, slowly dragging away from one another and Genevieve's hands fell back to her sides.

Her eyes never left his. The magnetic attraction between them remained even now and the way he looked at her told her he wouldn't reject her if she decided she wanted him again. If she told him she still wanted him. Now it seemed there would not be a time she did not want him. She couldn't want him. Wanting Benedict was dangerous and it was a risk she could not allow herself to take, she could not allow her heart to go on this way, putting herself on a path which would inevitably end as he decided to accept the duties society placed upon him. Their fates would never be joined, and so Genevieve needed to remain strong in her decision; she needed to protect her heart.

"Quite," she admitted with a small laugh, she hadn't realised it before but as the adrenaline which had pumped through her veins as a result of the attack faded she was left feeling drained, limbs and head feeling heavy and the soft bed in the room looked more and more tempting. "I can't keep you from your own bed, you've done too much for me already..." Genevieve shook her head, yet despite her words she looked longingly towards the bed, turning away from him to sit upon it, curling her legs up beneath her and a soft sigh passed her lips.

But it seemed rather than being prepared to guide her to another room Benedict sounded as if he intended for her to stay right where she was. It sounded more like he was asking her for permission to stay. The idea of him needing to ask was a painful reminder of the ruined relationship they had shared, of how what they had shared had broken, how he no longer just knew she desired his presence. No matter what happened between them Genevieve meant every word she had ever told him and even now she wanted nothing more than to be near him. If what he wanted to do was ensure she was not in need of anything all he had to do was stay. But how could she ever ask that of him? How could she possibly make that fair?

Her brows furrowed, jaw clenching tightly for a moment before she spoke, her voice a soft whisper to barely break the silence settling between them. "Stay," Genevieve murmured, "if you want to ensure I am not in need of anything... stay."

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

The small laugh served as a . . . relief. To hear that her spirits were well enough for even the smallest indication of amusement. He had always quite enjoyed hearing her laughter, taking pride in being the one to draw the reaction. But now, that sense of pride was . . . numbed. For it was not by his doing, no tease he could offer to watch the way her features changed into ones of amusement. The way her eyes brightened and lips curved upwards. So all he could do was give a smile in return, finding almost every detail of how . . . different things were to be agonizing. But not strong enough, for him to forget his place, nor the promise he made to her to take care of her. She spoke of how she could not take his bed but fortunately, did not protest the subject too long as he sat upon him. It was at least a start, and Benedict was stubborn enough to not have her remain on her feet whilst attempting to convince her to be more comfortable. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He felt as if he had not done nearly enough, wanting to do more and yet, knowing that what more he could do went beyond the limits and confinements of their relationship dynamic. "Yes, you can," he assured her with a continued small smile. "It will be most comfortable for you," he continued. "And I assure you, that even if you were not in it, I would not be sleeping in it out of guilt alone." The small smile remaining. The words were almost . . . playful. Guarded still, for often with their playful remarks, lay an undertone of flirtation and suggestion. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ This time, it was merely an attempt to convince her to lay in it. "So please, make it yours tonight." How odd, to be 'arguing' about a bed when there had not been a single night they spent together where they had not shared one. The thought of her being in his bed . . . well, perhaps it best he told her to make it hers. To consider it her bed tonight, and not his. It was safest to think of it in such terms, at least that was what Benedict was telling himself. "This is the least I can do for you." After what she had been through. This, was all a part of her allowing him to take care of her. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Her next words brought further relief to him. She was allowing him to stay. And while the relief was there . . . he also knew that it would draw further emotion . . . to be in a room with her in such platonic terms. "Thank you, for allowing me to." She spoke of her trust for him, and allowed him this that further demonstrated that. Not that he doubted her words or actions. Trying to break his gaze from her, his eyes no longer trusted as they conveyed far too much, Benedict casually looked around, trying to see if she had everything she could want. "Are you in need of anything?" He asked her, trying -- wanting -- to be helpful. Was she hungry? Did she require more drink? An extra blanket? His mind racing with all the possibilities which . . . served as further distraction for the current situation. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

It was strange how not so long ago neither one of them would have doubted their place in each other's company. Only weeks earlier Genevieve would have known her place to be in his arms to exchange soft kisses and playful words filled with emotion they both ignored. She was sure Benedict had sensed it too, how their playful remarks had become so much more than just that, heavy with emotions that had ultimately been impossible to deny. Her inability to deny it had caused her to push him away and as much as Genevieve wished any other course of action had been possible she knew it remained the only plausible option. Even now as she wanted to seek comfort in his arms she knew she needed to let logic dictate her decisions.

Before she never would have insisted she could not take his bed, she would have just known she would share it with him. But they did not share things in such a way now, she had insisted such could not be the nature of their relationship, of their friendship. "If I did not know how stubborn you can be I would argue with you," Genevieve hummed, letting her lips curl into a slightly teasing smile, "but I only will if you let it remain yours as well for the night," her tone grew more sincere, not quite serious, but close as her fingers played plucked at the sleeves of the shirt she wore, far too long for her.

She could not deny she had not missed the tease in his voice. Could not deny she had not missed the way they would flirt and tease with one another. In a way which she knew to be far too dangerous it felt so very comfortable returning to something so familiar. "After all, you would not make me beg after I have already asked you to stay, would you?" she mused, sighing lightly, and while her words were playful her stomach clenched as the nerves settled heavily in her gut, no longer sure of the faint tone of flirtation her words held around him anymore.

He had done so much for her and the fact he did not seem to believe he had done enough caused her heart to ache. The last thing she ever wished for him was to doubt himself. During the time they had spent together he had never made her wish for anything whether it was pleasing her physically or satisfying her mind. Even now Benedict was not leaving her in need, at least not on purpose, he was giving her the comfort she needed of being in his presence so freely, his kindness, his hospitality, his protection, his aid. For him to feel as if he needed to do more seemed preposterous and she wished she could reassure him somehow of just how enough he was.

Genevieve shook her head, "I'm fine," she insisted. It was the truth. Mostly. She needed him to stay, it was not just the yearning in her heart screaming at her mind for permission to allow herself to be held by him once more. In this moment Genevieve could not imagine closing her eyes and not seeing the faces of those who had attacked her. The thought was naïve but somehow she wanted to believe the safety of his embrace would chase away any haunted dreams sleep may bring. "Just stay," she repeated, her voice trembling slightly, lower than normal, a vulnerability clear in her voice that seemed so strange for her when she so often spoke so courageously. Her mind and heart were fighting a battle to decide what would be best but with a shaky exhale Genevieve spoke, letting her heart decide the words, "stay and hold me."

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict smiled at the tease, the naturalness of it a welcome . . . relief. Was that even the proper word to use? While their previous teases had come with so much ease, hearing her tease him now, made him smile. "Then I am glad, that you need not waste any breath," he told her. For, she knew him. She knew him rather well . . . more well than other woman knew him. At least, intimately. Romantically. The amount of time he had spent with her was clear indication of that. That not only had he allowed himself to be relaxed enough for her to know him, but that she even wanted to know him, with no ulterior motive or hidden agenda. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ She spoke of how she would accept it . . . if he made it his too. He watched her carefully, understanding and yet, wondering if he misunderstood at the same time. Her next words of not making her beg caused him to speak, breaking out of whatever state of contemplation he had been put in. "No," he almost immediately said. "I would never wish for you to do such a thing." Beg for anything, for he knew he could not deny her anything. And despite what others may say, he saw no problem with that. She assured him that she was fine . . . asking him to stay, but it was her latter words that prevented him from saying anything further for the moment. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "stay and hold me." It made his heart swell with emotion, and ache at the same time. It was after all, what he wanted . . . more than anything in this moment. And while he knew it was not his right to even want to put his hands on her, he could not help it. As he had said before, he lacked the ability to deny her anything . . . even if what she had wanted was to end this. But now, it was also because he had wanted it to. Selfish perhaps, but felt nonetheless. He found himself taking a small step towards her, growing dangerously close and yet . . . she had granted him permission to hold her. And so, he owed her honesty. "I was . . . " Yes, dangerously close to her indeed as he could almost feel her breath upon him, the significant height different having him tilt his head down to meet her gaze, his own through somewhat heavily lidded eyes. Emotions overcoming him, and yet, struggling to still maintain the trust and respect. "Trying to find a way to ask you if I could." His admittance coming with a bit of a smile, wanting her to know just how much he wanted to as well, as if she didn't. It felt odd, to have his confidence in such a thing so waned that he would not even be able to touch her without trying to determine how to ask her. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Yet, it also made all the sense . . . considering the nature of their relationship, or former one. He was not even certain right now. Losing the battle against better judgement, he raised his hands, gently resting them on her upper arms in a comforting manner, not quite holding her yet, but rather, caressing her in a soothing manner. "Lie down," he encouraged in a quiet voice, his tone lacking any demand, but an urge for her to get more comfortable and a promise . . . that he would join her. Tag lennie3

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