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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 20:04:17 GMT
I'm not bound by Following his departure from Henry's home, Benedict had promptly withdrew himself to My Cabin for the next few weeks, requiring time to himself. Time alone. Away from his family. Away from the ton. Just, simply away from everything. Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree seemed to notice that he was of a mood, but fortunately, did not overly pry. Truth was, Benedict wished to limit his social interaction as much as possible, even with the elderly couple. His relationship with his brother was of course strained, the two of them barley exchanging words before Benedict had packed his things from his family's estate in town. Anthony knew what had put him in such a mood, and now knew that Benedict knew what had prompted it. So yes, the second son needed time.
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Not accepting visitors, nor returning to the city for any reason -- save for a family emergency which, fortunately, there was none -- Benedict remained in as much solitude as possible. He was uncertain how he even passed the time, for his sketch book was untouched. He hardly felt any inspiration these days and would not force it out of him. He required time to heal. To allow his heart to heal . . . if, it would ever. But a Bridgerton could not remain in hiding for long. Soon enough, his family sent word -- not that they had not before. They had wished to visit, but Benedict discouraged them from making the wasted trip. But this time, his more with great . . . authority, the kind that Benedict could not refuse, demanded he return home for they were invited to a royal event. Benedict knew he could not deny his mother his presence for much longer. And so, begrudgingly, he complied.
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Packing lightly for he did not wish to prolong his stay in the city for too long, he readied his phaeton, which would also give him some control on when he returned. Informing his housekeepers that he would return in a couple days time at the most, Benedict set off . . . returning into society and bracing himself for all that would come with it. He was fairly quiet as he entered the house, questions of his absence filling the air, but Benedict's responses were unrevealing and laconic. He instead, focused on his purpose for returning: for the event that his mother was so adamant about him -- or, the entire Bridgerton family rather -- attending. Perhaps she knew that this had to do with heartache, but he doubted she was aware of with whom he'd been with . . . or was no longer with, to have caused it.
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Arriving at the tea party was everything that should be expected. Many greeted him, speaking of his absence, asking if he was well, if he was recovered. There was either an assumption that he was ill -- an assumption that he would not be surprised if his mother did not seek to correct -- or that something else drove him out of town. Benedict refused to give fuel for their gossips, so he merely remained polite. Cordial. And longed for this day to be over. Fortunately, his mother knew better than to attempt to have him speak to young women in the hopes of him marrying. But eager mothers were not of the same mind. So more frequently than not, he would leave Colin at their mercy and attempt to sneak off. With his elder brother married however . . . Benedict was expected to follow, yet he would not hear of it. He refused to commit his heart to another when it was still healing. If ever a time would come that he was truly ready.
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Finding it all too much, he decided to find a place of quiet seclusion, perhaps deeper into the gardens. The general location seemed like a damned one, considering what happened last time he was at the garden at a public event -- or more so, the aftermath of it. But never the less, it did not seem heavily populated, so Benedict quietly slipped away, if only for a few moments. Upon arriving, he had to suppress a groan when he saw Ms. Cow-- Ms. Wetherby approaching a man. Benedict would have simply walked by the two but as he was attempting to, he couldn't help but casually glance, wondering who she would be speaking to that was not her husband . . . and that was when Benedict finally recognized him. Henry Granville.
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The younger male froze with surprise, not only by his unexpected presence, but also by the fact that he hardly recognized him. Realizing his lips were parted and that Ms. Wetherby was now looking at him, perhaps even having said something to Benedict . . . the Bridgerton decided to do what he could to help the situation. Help, or hinder. The consideration of what he was doing potentially causing more harm coming at a later time; not in the moment. "Ms. Wetherby, I do believe your husband is looking for you," he told her. A small lie, but no doubt, Alfred would not reject his wife's company . . . at least not in public anyway.
Tag bunny Note: Better layout coming soon!
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 19:45:21 GMT
I'm not bound by The change in her expression was nothing good. That smile . . . was hardly reassuring. Benedict knew something was coming, but what that something was, he had no idea. When she stepped forward, he took a small step back, needing to maintain the distance between them for good reason. And then, as quick as anything, she grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. Reflex kicked in and Benedict caught the pillow as it went against his face. This action, causing him to drop the one that he had protectively been holding over himself.
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"Damn it, Daphne!" He cursed with annoyance, his voice not raised but clearly agitated. "Have you lost sense." And suddenly, he felt more exposed than ever, distracted by the attacking pillow and realizing, that he had nothing on his lower body, to which he quickly lowered the pillow she had throw at him. It was far less of a . . . casual action. Before, he could nonchalanty hold it but now, it made it as if he was hiding something. With any luck, his body was . . . settling. Still. The embarrassment of being potentially exposed was enough for him to clench his jaw and slightly twist his features in a cringe.
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 19:23:32 GMT
Updated to include Lucy Granville & Lady Danbury!
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
|
euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 18:20:12 GMT
Headcanons continued . . .
- Benedict initially started his artistic journey with landscapes, feeling inspired by all the colours found in nature; his frequent hikes also helped to inspire him and translate these visions onto paper. However, when his father passed away, Benedict found his inspiration shift, for two reasons. He realized how precious life is, and how important it was to capture moments within it to forever be remembered somehow. The other reason, is that he held a fear that he would start to forget what his father looked like, his expressions, his demeanour, etc. This was a realization that it could be the case of losing anyone he deeply cared about. This was when Benedict started sketching the human form, starting with drawings of his father, progressing to sketching basic forms, outings with his family, and so on.
[/font][li] Benedict has never had a mistress before.[/li]
[li] Benedict has never been with a virgin, until ali [Making a book assumption here so let me know if you'd like me to edit][/li][/ul][/blockquote] |
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 2:59:28 GMT
I'm not bound by Lewis may have thought it unnecessary for Benedict to thank him, but never the less . . . he still felt compelled to. He knew that this was Lewis' job -- at least in part -- to tend to the wounded and ill. But, there was a great deal more that Benedict had gratitude for, knowing that his specific reason for being that night was just one of the many. Discretion, mostly. And for allowing Benedict to place his trust in the man. One that did not seem to be misguided for nothing had spread among the town. It was not Benedict's reputation he worried for; it was Genevieve's. Especially since what they had would result in her being named a mistress and . . . that was not what this was. It was never what it was.
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"Yes, indeed," Benedict said thoughtfully, taking another sip of his drink and knowing that he had to give Lewis some semblance of explanation. Brief, or detailed, he was unsure. But he owed it to the man. Or at least, an apology. "I must admit that night I was quite, disturbed to learn that a group of men would assault a woman in such a way." He was not naïve nor an idiot -- contrary to what some may think. He knew it happened. But, he had never witnessed the aftermath. "I know that it does indeed occur. And you, I am certain, have seen your fair share of injury inflicted upon others." Benedict paused, this being part of the reason he had been so . . . emotional. That, and of course the deeper reasons due to the complexity of their relationship, or former one but this was a safer part of the explanation to offer to Lewis.
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"However for me, it was the first time someone . . . a woman I know, had been injured in such manner." Benedict took another drink not for liquid courage to continue, but to cease the images of the men surrounding her and attacking her from entering his mind. Images, that quite honestly continued to disturb him. "I fear I did not handle it well," he added with a bit of a smile, though not jovial, it was his own admittance that he was quite out of sorts that night, and his tone held apology towards Lewis, before Benedict knew he would need to actually say the words to the surgeon. It was after all, the reason he was even offering this information instead of simply accepting Lewis's words and moving the conversation along. Benedict had far too much respect and gratitude towards the man to be dismissive.
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
|
euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 2:21:12 GMT
I'm not bound by Brandy. Well, at least Benedict knew the man to enjoy the common drink. It was something at least, though quite minimal. The second son proceeded to fill both cups, passing one to Anwyl before taking a seat in the chair across from him, cradling the drink in his hand. Lewis's question should be of no surprise and yet . . . Benedict paused for the briefest of moments upon him asking. It would seem so foolish, not to give a name to the patient. And perhaps sounded even more foolish that Benedict did not know of her full recovery. The distance had been once again forced between them. So before responding, Benedict took a sip of his drink, swallowing as a small smile returned upon his lips. Fortunately, he was in far better control of his emotions this time.
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"Ms. Genevieve Delacroix," he responded. There was no shame in revealing who she was. A working woman. The Modiste. Yet, Benedict could only assume what Lewis may have thought with . . . everything. Clearly friend was a disbelieved term. Hell, Benedict hadn't even believed it when he described her as such to the surgeon. "Yes, she is recovering well," Benedict said politely, of course not knowing the details. He had attempted to listen to his sisters' conversations regarding going to the Modiste; a subject that had never been of any interest to Benedict prior. Nor could he overly inquire about it.
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So, all he could do was make an assumption, and felt the tightening in his chest that he was unable to see for himself. "It is kind of you to ask," he added, genuine in his words. "I greatly appreciate you coming that night," Benedict told him. "And examining her." Benedict had been . . . an emotional wreck, perhaps is what could be best described. There was still some embarrassment over his demeanor that night, now that rationality had set back in. Now that reality had set back in.
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
|
euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 2:11:22 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict could not resist a smile that came upon witnessing the flush of colour that touched Lewis's cheeks. A bit of embarrassment no doubt, for Benedict's remark on what Lewis must have thought of him prior to meeting him. Usually, Benedict's reputation was hardly specific he imagined. He was merely, a Bridgerton. Number two. Assumptions made of him as they were of all nobleman. Where his brother was a Viscount, and each sibling held their own identity . . . he often held none. So perhaps it was why Lewis's words meant a great deal more to him than the other may realize. It was touching, to know and hear that he could have formed an opinion of Benedict that wasn't laced with disinterest.
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Benedict's smile remained, giving a nod of understanding upon hearing Lewis speak of how many did not share such a sentiment. "It is truly a shame for them," Benedict told him, sincere in his words. "For engaging in such diverse topics is truly enriching and enlightening." Because it went beyond the confines of what others may deem acceptable or expected. Benedict liked that. Learning more of this world where there were indeed no confinements . . . where they could just speak freely, unguarded. It was liberating. It felt as if Benedict was able to breathe in a populated for the first time in a long time, even if said population was among Granville's home, or in this case, an acquaintance of Connor's.
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It certainly beat the population at balls, and extravagant events where Benedict spent the time dodging eager mothers, and being told to dance with Wallflowers by his mother. "Perhaps Mr. Morrison made introduction with that in mind; that we both enjoy conversation that perhaps steps outside the societal confines of expectation." Clearly, Morrison knew that about Benedict considering where they had met. And it was rather clear, that Connor knew Lewis well enough to know that much about him.
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
|
euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 1:53:28 GMT
I'm not bound by Once Lewis returned the handshake, Benedict removed the hold, listening to the surgeon speak of intrusion. "Not at all," he assured him. "You are most welcome here," he further added. Of course the reason for Lewis' presence was indeed a curious one, but hardly one that Benedict would immediately question upon his arrival. "Please have a seat," he said, motioning to the sofa and chairs, whichever the surgeon was most comfortable sitting upon.
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Once he was seated, Benedict remained standing for a few additional moments. "Would you care for a drink?" He asked, motioning to the brandy as it was a little too late to offer him tea. Truth was, he was uncertain as to what Lewis' drink of preference was. A realization that Benedict was unsure of a lot of Lewis' personal likes and dislikes. It should not come as a massive surprise considering they had met only a few times but still. Benedict made it a point to try and learn more of this man so that he would know how to better accommodate him in times such as these where he stopped by.
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 1:34:26 GMT
I LOVE THEM ALLL L !!! BRILLIANT!! They are officially added to the master list!!!
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
|
euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 1:16:01 GMT
Benedict Puns SO, because I love punglish, I have decided to create a list of Benedict puns!! To be used either for future threads or . . . just to see how many we can come up with!! I welcome you all to reply here and add on to the list which I will be frequently updating!! Anything crossed out means I managed to make it a thread title hahah!
Goal: to have allll of them as thread titles . . . eventually!! ALRIGHTY . . . let the punning begin!!!
Never Ben Better
Ben Meaning To See You
- Friends With Benedicts
- Benedick [which I learned tonight is actually a word!] | credit to L
- Bend Over, Here It Comes | credit to L
- I've Ben A Little Naughty | credit to L
- Like A Bridgerton Over Troubled Waters
- Ben There, Done That
- What Could Have Ben
- Could Have Ben Worse
- Ben A While
- Benediction | credit to L
- Ben Here Before
- I Ben a Bad Boy | credit to L
- Ben Missing You | credit to L
Beneath The Surface | credit to L - Look Beneath The Surface | credit to L
- The Benefactor | credit to L
- The Ben-factor | credit to L
HellBent | credit to L - I Can Be Your Bench | credit to L
Benevolence- Backbencher | credit to L
- Benign and Neglect | credit to L
- On A Bender | credit to L
- Fender Bender
- Wind Beneath My Wings
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 1:03:55 GMT
I'm not bound by To hear the man return the gratitude was most . . . kind. Yes. Perhaps that was the best word to describe it, and Benedict found himself flattered that he too thanked him for such a conversation, and that Lewis had appeared to be enjoying it. Such was a relief to the nobleman . . . especially as he knew all too well what Lewis had touched on before. Some nobleman, whether conversing with those of equal or lower ranking, often had a way to speak only of their gainings and accomplishments, hardly paying attention to others and their work. Those who were not of like mind found such conversations to be tedious, and painful. Fortunately, this had been neither.
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Besides, it had been Lewis' passion for his work and interest that drew Benedict to the conversation and topic, more so than the actual content itself. Not that it wasn't . . . interesting. The second son could certainly say it had been enlightening in ways he had not expected. Benedict let out a small chuckle at Lewis' honestly, glad for it. Grateful for it. "I imagine not," he accepted. Being a Bridgerton, and one of the more notable families of the ton . . . Benedict could only imagine what Lewis may have assumed. Though seeing that opinion shift and . . . the almost smile that formed on the man, Benedict was reassured.
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"You must have thought I would be among the worst of them," Benedict said with clear amusement, welcoming Lewis' continued honestly for he would take no offense. Worst of them, referring to being among the most boastful gentlemen of the ton. "But I am glad to hear otherwise, Mr. Anwyl. For a man who holds such strong passion in a field of his work or interest, is always welcome company." Speaking aloud his earlier thoughts that he enjoyed the zeal in which Lewis had spoken about subjects that, well Benedict was presuming were not exactly commonly broached among many outside his medical field.
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
|
euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 15, 2021 0:37:02 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict knew that he should return to his family's estate, but the past several days had certainly been a bit of an emotional whirlwind. His mind often lingered to Genevieve, having to fight every urge within him to visit her. To check on her. To see if she was well. To see if she needed anything. None of which was his place or offer or tend to her . . . yet, the desire to do so remained. So he had spent the time at his bachelor lodgings, deciding that he would return home when he was able to keep himself composed and not carry every conversation with such strong emotions.
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Eloise was far too . . . perceptive. In fact, most all his sisters were. Hell, even his brothers. So yes. Benedict had decided to remain just for a shorter while. But of course, to avoid any suspicions or rumors throughout the ton, he had eventually set out, making public appearances where necessary. Joining his family for various outings and finding -- as he always did -- comfort in their company. That did not mean recent events were quickly forgotten. Quite the contrary. Benedict had found himself in need of distractions during the day and at night . . . it was most difficult as his mind tended to wander.
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But today, he happened to be home in the evening, sitting in his study with a novel in hand, his sketchbook set to the side. He had given up on trying to sketch for while he craved the creative outlet, he also could not focus. A strange contradiction yet only that was only increasing his frustrations. It wasn't until he was told that Mr. Lewis Anwyl was here to see him that Benedict immediately rose to his feet and urged for them to let him in. The second son quickly picked up both books, and set them on the table, just in time for as he turned, he saw Anwyl at the entrance of the drawing room.
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"Anwyl," Benedict greeted warmly, approaching him with an extended hand. "It is good to see you." And he meant it. Benedict had never had a chance to have proper conversation with the surgeon after the events of that night. Emotionally, it had taken a toll on Benedict and he felt the need to recover from it and of course . . . Anwyl had seen Benedict at a time where most many didn't. Emotional and vulnerable. It left the second son almost . . . embarrassed for it.
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
|
euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 14, 2021 23:25:10 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict let out a huff of amusement as Henry spoke of being encouraged to stop. "Far be it from me to deter you from such . . . actions," he said with clear suggestion in his voice, a smile remaining in place. An expression that came with so much ease when in the company of Henry Granville. Benedict parted his lips to give the other access to him, drawing back only when he felt the wet sensation of more paint across his chest, causing a small chuckle to escape from the younger male. And not only there, but his neck as well, uncaring of whether it transferred onto Henry as he returned to kissing him.
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In fact, he hoped it, for Henry was doing a far better job of smearing him with paint that Benedict was painting the other man. "I hope you know . . . " Benedict began to say, pausing only to kiss Henry again, the words practically spoken against his lips. Eventually, drawing back to continue though he spoke instead between kisses along the man's skin. "That I hold every expectation for you to clean up this mess that you made," he told him with playful flirtation. The mess, being the paint on Benedict's body. The ability to form words however, became increasingly difficult as Henry rolled his hips against Benedict, causing the Bridgerton to let out a deep moan of both pleasure and building need.
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His head tilted, burying his face in the crook of Henry's neck. His hands fell to Henry's side in encouragement as Benedict felt his desires taking on a rather physical form. In his current position, Benedict kissing the skin of Henry's neck, caressing it with his teeth, soothing it with his tongue as the man's motions against his hips further build his need. Benedict's hands moved to Henry's breeches, quickly untying them if only to skip a hand inside, lips curving into a smile between each tease of his mouth against his skin as he began to stroke his length in drawn out motions, slow enough to be more of a tease rather than an aim to reach him to his release.
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
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euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 14, 2021 23:11:21 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict took in his words, letting them sink in . . . knowing that, it was a losing battle. Neither of them would come out of this happy or content. But as Benedict had previously accepted -- or perhaps acknowledged -- the decision had been made. Without his knowledge. Without his participation. Without his involvement. The decision had been made. He would have offered more words, unsure of what would even come out at this point but apart from Henry's words, he noticed the man's state. He knew Henry well enough to reocgnize that the man did not look well at all. Regardless of the hated, intense conversation . . . it seemed to be taking a physical toll on him. And before Benedict could ask, he watched the man collapse to the floor. Benedict hurriedly rushed to his side.
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"Henry," he said, trying to see if he was alright or even conscious. He seemed to be half away, and Benedict gently took him by the arm, putting it around his neck and leading him to the sofa where he urged him to lay down. Benedict crouched down next to it, his eyes quickly assessing the man to see his condition. It seemed futile to ask him if he was alright. And Benedict doubted there was anything he could fetch him that would help.
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"I'm sorry." So all he could do was apologize for pushing him to this extent. Taking responsibility for the escalation of conversation. Benedict gently touched him on the cheek, using the excuse to see if he was warm at all but really, it was just an offer of comfort . . . though the younger male did not let it linger too long. "I shall . . . call for someone to tend to you." Because as much as Benedict wanted to, he knew it was not his place anymore. He no longer had the right to be the one to take care of Granville . . . and he knew he had to accept that. Though, with how fresh the entire circumstance was . . . Benedict didn't know how, or even if he could.
Tag bunny Note: Better layout coming soon!
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the rules of society.
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Second Son
Free Spirit
"Should I not have a friend?
I'm not bound by
the rules of society.
Please do not tell mother."
Personal Text
Nobleman
Rank
Aspiring Artist
Occupation
|
euphoria
Offline
Tag me @benedict
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Post by Benedict Bridgerton on Apr 14, 2021 23:04:23 GMT
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.
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"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.
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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.
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"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.
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"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.
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the rules of society.
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