The Rain Is Always Gonna Come

[lennie3]

She laughed. The sound was light and airy, bubbling up and escaping before she got catch it. Her ribs ached slightly by the action and clenched her jaw, hoping he had not noticed the way it caused her to wince. Not only did Genevieve knew he could be stubborn, she also knew the concern it would cause him to feel if he had made note of her reaction. Regardless of the pain her reaction to his words were comforting in a way she had not expected it to be. Knowing she could feel relaxed enough around him to allow herself to laugh was a soothing feeling for her soul. It indicated somehow the comfort of knowing him still remained, perhaps she was unable to read his mind, but she was reminded that she did not need to in order to know him.

At a time Genevieve had been able to tell what he wanted from her, what he needed from her. That time had passed and now as silence lingered for a beat or two between them she was almost ready to do as she had pleaded he would not make her feel the need to. Just as her lips parted, ready to ask him once more Benedict spoke instead and her shoulders dropped as she relaxed. Genevieve knew there had to be many reasons why it was him she had turned to tonight. Most of all she believed it to be how she had always felt safe with him, and tonight letting adrenaline and her heart guide her in what she needed it had been that, to feel safe.

His confession was revealing, and not just in how it revealed his wishes; but how they longed for similar things even now, even as they both required so much more bravery than before to put it into words. She barely noticed him move closer before she could feel the heat of his breath against the side of her face, before she realised she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Her breathing stuttered as her gaze met his, fingers itching to reach out to touch him. The way he revealed he had been finding a way to ask her permission caused her heart to ache, to want to tear her eyes away from his hypnotising gaze in shame she had caused them to end up in a place where he felt there was such a need. He was so kind, so good. Even now as Genevieve knew she would never have it in her to reject his touch he was remaining respectful to the wishes she had proclaimed when she ended what they shared.

Though perhaps it was not so simple as to ending it just like that. The need clearly remained within them both to feel the other's touch and eventually with time it might fade but not now. "My answer would have been yes," she felt the need to inform him, her voice remaining a soft whisper, fingers twisted together, her own hands intertwined together, "if you had found the words you were searching for to ask, my answer would have been yes." Not despite of, but rather because of, the past they shared Benedict deserved her honesty more so than anyone else and she gave it to him with as much sincerity she could muster.

Even if she had been the one to require his touch the light feeling of his hands on her arms was almost enough to cause tears to well in her eyes. It was so simple, a touch which might have even been accepted between two friends. Even so, her skin immediately heated where he touched her, her mind falling both silent and so very loud at the same time and her body obeyed his words on its own accord. She eased herself down onto the bed, her hand reaching for his as she did and she tugged lightly, "lie with me," Genevieve said, emphasising her words clearly, her head settling agains the comfortable pillows, comforter on the bed giving way to the pressure of her body on top of it, lacing her fingers together with his.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

While Benedict always loved seeing and hearing her laugh, a twinge of guilt struck him when he saw the pain it had caused her. His hands instinctively moving close to her as if he could somehow rid her of it. Which, he knew he could not. "I'm sorry," he quickly apologized, knowing that he should not do anything to aggravate the pain she was must feeling. Surely the medicine would help her; surely it would take affect soon. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ But then, she assured him that the answer would have been yes, her response causing him to softly smile. It was both, a relief and yet caused that familiar ache to be felt within his heart. Knowing she would have said yes; knowing that he had to ask. A conflict of how to feel about that . . . but he supposed, the relief in this moment was what mattered. To know that they were of the same mind. Yet, it made him want to ask her that if that was so, why couldn't they just allow themselves to give in to desire. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He however, held his tongue. He knew she had made her decision when she'd ended things and yet . . . if she found herself here . . . Benedict did all he could to cease such thoughts in his mind. Right now, she did not need to be questioned on her decisions. It would serve as no aid to her if he started bringing up the past; if he tried to undo what was already done. He should perhaps just be grateful. That right now, in this moment, she was assuring him that she would have said yes. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "That . . . " He paused, knowing he had to guard his thoughts lest they escape and compromise all he had promised to her. "Gladdens me," he told her sincerely. "It is good as well, that you did not wait to see how long it may have taken me," he added on jokingly, though deep down, hated that something which had come with such ease previously . . . had become something he was nervous to ask for. Soon enough, she began to move towards the bed, her hand reaching for his, instantly feeling the warmth of her skin, a sensation he had longed missed. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Her words just adding to all that he was already feeling . . . and between that and the gentle tug, he did not need any more convincing nor showed any further hesitation. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, giving her a moment to shift to the side a little to make room for him. He moved one arm behind her as he lifted his feet, legs outstretched on the bed while his arm around her nestled her close to his chest. His other hand -- he belatedly realized -- had not released her own. He raised it to his lips, tenderly kissing the back of her hand as he closed his eyes for a moment. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Perhaps it was too much, but it was as if his heart truly took over. Letting the embrace linger for a moment, he lowered her hand from his lips, still holding onto it, as he tilted his head to the side, towards her. "I am glad you are ok," he breathed. He knew that she was not exactly ok . . . but saying that he was glad she was alive sounded far too morbid. He was glad she was alright, and would recover. Because the thought of losing her physically, was not one he wished to dwell on. Losing her from his heart was one thing, losing her from this world, an entirely different one. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Genevieve immediately sighed as she heard his apology, an exassperated sigh accompanied by a small shake of her head, "you have nothing to be sorry for," she insisted. The words could have meant so much more than just an insistance he did not need to apologies for the ache in her ribs as she had laughed. Genevieve hated how Benedict may have felt any need to apologies to her for anything which had occurred, there was nothing he needed to apologies to her for. Even though she had brought what they had shared to an end it did not mean she had not cherished it, she still did cherish it, the issue was how her heart had begun to cherish the time shared with him too much.

It was a line she could not allow herself to ever cross, not with him, perhaps not anyone.

Even so in the shock of what had happened tonight she needed the comfort of his embrace. One more night would not cause her to fall apart. Genevieve was reasonable enough, far enough from being a young girl with her dreams showing clear in her eyes, to walk away from him in the morning. She may have been told the injuries she had obtained would not hinder her for long, that it was not quite so bad, but the stress and emotional toll of the event remained undealt with.

Once again Genevieve felt laughter bubbling in her chest when he spoke, she pressed her lips together into a smile instead this time. It was so easy to relax with him, to feel at ease. She had many times wondered how it could be that way, how he just made her feel so very comfortable when they were together. But aside from the entertainment she gained from his words she noted the kindness of the meaning in them. Benedict had hesitated in finding a way to ask if he could hold her because he wanted to respect the decision she had made and Genevieve was touched by his actions.

Finally it seemed his mind had allowed him to make a decision, to move his limbs and Benedict sat on the edge of the bed. Genevieve let out a small breath as she shifted to make room for him and he followed, pulling her into his arms as he settled onto the soft mattress. She smiled. Shuffling close to him, slowly breathing him in as her arm snaked around him, fingertips pushing into his back with clear pressure. She was grounding herself in him, in the comfort and safety of his embrace she was finding her footing after what had happened.

He still held her other hand, a gentle and firm hold she had not too long ago allowed herself to get used to. Her breathing stuttered as she felt his lips warm against the inside of her wrist, and Genevieve felt her eyes grow misty, pressing her face into his neck to hide the emotion splayed across her features. But she did not pull away from him, instead she shuffled her frame closer, needing to feel the heat eminating from his form against her. "Thank you," she said, her words muffled against him, "as am I," Genevieve admitted, she knew how horribly the evening could have gone, the outcome could have so easily been so different.

But she was here. She was in his arms and now she felt truly safe. It had been her heart she allowed to guide her to his doorstep after what had happened. Genevieve had been unable to reason her way to safety. From the moment when she saw him as the door opened she had known it was only this which would have given her back the feeling of serene safety and comfort which fell upon her as she curled into his frame.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

She may have told him that he had nothing to be sorry for, and yet . . . he felt as if he did. Any way he contributed to her pain, would prompt apology. And yet, he wanted to also grant her what she asked of him. These two feelings oddly familiar in a far deeper context than merely making her laugh. All he could do was offer a small smile in response, wanting to assure her otherwise, and yet, knew that trying to start a futile debate was the last thing she needed right now. Perhaps under different circumstances, it could lead to the playful and flirtatious teasing they had so easily engaged in. But now . . . things were different. Everything was different. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Seeing her smile warmed his heart and made this all the harder. The beautiful sight of it reminding him that it was not his to cherish. Perhaps, it never had been. They had no claim on each other yet there had been some level of . . . understanding. A natural progression to their first night and before he even realized it, he had found himself wanting no one other than her. Feeling her touch, her body pressed close to him, her frame fitting so perfectly in his arms . . . why couldn't it just be this easy. To just, be together. It felt right and comfortable and so many other things that Benedict had not often found in another. But the reasons of why they could not -- as Genevieve had pointed out -- had to remain in his mind. Despite how much he wanted to assure her, or convince her otherwise. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Feeling her nestle against his skin drew a slow breath from him as he remained in position, arm still around her, wrapped around her to keep her close. Hand still holding hers, as he let it rest upon his chest over where his heart beat. And then she thanked him, wanting to tell her that she had nothing to thank him for and yet . . . he wanted her to fall asleep. Not have her mind thinking of reasons that she need thank him based on his protest that she needn't. "You are safe now," he promised. Physically. Emotionally. She was safe in his arms. And that -- he knew -- was all he could assure her of now. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You're safe," he repeated in a whisper, wanting to continue to offer these reassurances. Wanting to continue to give her a sense of ease should they be the last words she hear before she falls into a slumber. Should the medicine go into effect, or exhaustion from the entire ordeal. He would wait, to see what she needed of him. He knew that telling stories sometimes helped distract ones mind when they were suffering or unable to find sleep and should she be in that state, he would offer it. But right now . . . he gave soft assurances that no further harm would come to her. That he would let no further harm come to her. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.