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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 20:38:20 GMT
I'm not bound by Once more, he basked in the enjoyment of hearing her laugh; of seeing her so brightly smile. Pride and honor indeed so keenly felt for his words -- or actions -- eliciting such a reaction from her. Her touches on his skin, a hand resting upon his heart, or her finger moving over his lips . . . it was all such a warm sensation, unable to understand how someone's touch could be so soft. He looked at her with intrigue, a slightly raised eyebrow as he was quite keen to hear this secret, having to subdue his laughter when she revealed it -- if only to play along with his exaggerated interest. Though, it was quite enticing . . . incredibly enticing. To know that she could open her shop later, that there was no set time they needed to wake up to go back to their lives outside these walls.
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Though, hers just being that of downstairs. But his . . . his would start the moment he stepped out her door. And he was not ready for it. So to know that they would have tonight, and apparently tomorrow morning . . . brought him a further sense of ease, and excitement. "Ms. Delacroix," he began to say, the formality very clearly a playful tease. "Are you telling me that you may have some free time tomorrow morning as well?" He asked, evidently drawing out the time they could have together to not only tonight . . . but in the morning too. "Whatever will you do with said time?" He asked in the same tone, only this time perhaps more suggestive. Simultaneous to his words, his finger traced along her cheek, moving to her chin where he gently cupped it, letting his thumb caress the bottom of it. "Whatever will we do?" He added in in flirtatious jest.
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Hearing her state that she had not yet reached fatigue yet . . . oh yes. Excitement for all the night continued to hold was felt quite keenly by the male. His lips curved in a smile, enjoyed her attentions along his jaw, his hand on her chin slowly sliding to her neck, trailing behind it under her hair. His own lips sought out her shoulder, placing a few light kisses upon it as she continued to speak, inquiring as to whether a little fatigue caused any harm. How could he possibly disagree when she kissed him like this, and when he felt her warm body against him in such a way.
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"Most certainly not," he said between each kiss. "Particularly when the actions that may lead to such fatigue are quite worth it." Drawing his head back, breaking the contact of her lips on him and his on hers . . . the distance was short lived as he pressed his mouth against her, breathing into the embrace. "Insatiable indeed," he mumbled against her skin, lips lowering to her chin, to the column of her neck. His words repeated as he had stated how his need for her was insatiable. Desire for her seeming to constantly build within him . . . beyond physical desire. Simply, desire for her company. For any part of her she allowed him to have, to experience. "For how is one so, incredibly desirable," he said against her skin, a playful accusation in his voice. Though the question remained in his mind. How, was one so desirable indeed.
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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 19:39:30 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict felt . . . confused. Conflicted. Uncertain. The kiss had certain awoken something within him; something that he was unable to name and yet, dangerously curious to explore. But not now. Not like this. Henry's words of . . . reassurance perhaps, only further confused him. Had it happened under other circumstances-- no. Perhaps it would not have. Perhaps Henry's devastated state prompted such a thing and Benedict could not let his mind linger on any what ifs, when he himself wasn't even certain as to what was happening. As he himself was trying to come to terms with these, inner feelings. Thoughts. Desires. Henry told him that it would be best he be alone, and of course Benedict would respect that. Immediately.
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"Yes, of course," he told him, deciding that perhaps it was best -- safest -- not to remark on his other words. Instead, the younger male gave a small smile when Henry gently squeezed his hand, offering him to lunch tomorrow. "Perhaps the following day," Benedict stated. "I should imagine you require a great deal of rest tomorrow, particularly from company." Particularly from his company. So perhaps, in a few days time . . . they could meet. And, would they act as if nothing had happened or would this moment be remembered? Never the less, Benedict kept all thoughts, questions, and uncertainties in his mind. As he previously established internally, this was not about him. "Take care of yourself, Henry," Benedict told him, giving him one more small smile, before exiting the room and . . . exiting the party, for his desire to enjoy in its festivities, suddenly waned.
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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 18:31:03 GMT
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.
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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 17:15:59 GMT
Hyacinth Bridgerton & Eloise Bridgerton Eloise Bridgerton Daphne Bridgerton |
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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 2:18:53 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict's smile remained, though became a more relaxed one as Lewis told him that he was being too hard on himself, saying he preferred this subject rather than the boastful ones of other gentleman. Lewis certainly would not be the first to tell Benedict that he was too hard on himself. The Bridgerton hurt it from many a people: Henry, Eloise, Connor . . . would that Benedict only be of the mind to believe it. Perhaps that would help his art to flourish, the moment he was out of his own head.Over thinking it too much, judging it too harshly and . . . being far too detailed in his critique. Perhaps the day would come indeed. "You would not be the first to tell me as such," Benedict told him honestly with a smile, his words also holding appreciation towards Lewis for the . . . encouragement, perhaps he could call it.
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"That is a relief to hear," Benedict began to tell him. "That we are of a similar mind in that certain, common topics of conversation among gentleman surely are . . . perhaps a touch too boastful for our liking." It was in part why Benedict did not frequent the club as much as his older brother did. Of course Benedict enjoyed gentleman gatherings but at the same time, it could be too much. He much preferred when there was activity involved . . . be it fencing, horse riding, boxing . . . something to help distract and not let the entire conversation center around a man's wealth and material achievements. "With that in mind, I find our conversation to be most refreshing. So I thank you for that." For Benedict wanted Lewis to know that the feeling was mutual; and that he would rather hear about Lewis's tellings of anatomical histories, rather than estate purchases and the like.
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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 0:54:16 GMT
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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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 13, 2021 23:19:00 GMT
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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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.
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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 13, 2021 22:28:04 GMT
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.
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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.
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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.
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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 13, 2021 22:19:03 GMT
Eloise Bridgerton & Penelope Featherington Anthony Bridgerton & Benedict Bridgerton Penelope Featherington |
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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 13, 2021 20:14:43 GMT
I'm not bound by He could see her features ease when he offered reassurance, and had to fight back any words of apology for making her doubtful that he would be anything accepting of her words. Of her. Hearing the mutual like of this . . . situation, of them being able to spend the night together in a way far more intimate than any physical relations could ever be, brought joy to his heart. While he did not doubt he, knew that with his name -- Bridgerton -- came status. And with that, expectation and as he previously thought, entitlement. But they had never been as such; no distinction of class different nor rank. He was drawn to her because she was beautiful.
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And now, for far many more reasons than surpassed beauty. And she, wanted nothing from him because of his family name. It felt so simple; resorting to just base desire to be with each other and in one another's company. Company he found far more delightful than any ball or grand event he had attended. He enjoyed her soft kisses, each touch causing his body to warm and feel soothed. When she told him that she was the one who was honored, he could not resist the playful words that came after. "Hardly," he commented . . . though it was true. The honor was all his. "The honor is all mine." In this case, he was the one so deeply honored by her words and want for him to remain.
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Placing a light kiss on her cheek he moved an arm to wrap around her so that he could bring her even closer to him, not wanting even the slightest distance of the bed between them. "I shall ensure you receive proper rest tonight as well," he told her, flirtatious tease evident in his tone. "I would not want you to feel . . . too fatigued come tomorrow." His words holding suggestion as to what could possibly exhaust her so. For he was also keeping in mind her job. Her work. Her responsibilities to her shop. All things that he found quite inspiring and as he had said, admirable. Still, the words came out as his features held a bit of a smirk, allowing the continued comfort of their teasings to linger. It seemed that all types of conversation were so easily had with her.
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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 13, 2021 19:51:49 GMT
I'm not bound by Lewis explained that he had not had the pleasure of working with artists and Benedict's next question came out without too much thought. That is, until after he said it. "Do you wish to?" Work with artists that was. But the question suddenly sounded like an offer. And . . . that certainly was not Benedict's intention. Firstly, he did not wish to presume that -- despite what Lewis said -- that he may be very well interested in working with artists, which Benedict supposed was the reason for asking.
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But moreover, Benedict feared it may have sounded like an offer and interest on his own part. Which, was untrue. For the second son lacked the skills to be considered an artist, especially when it came to working with a well, accomplished surgeon. "I mean, not that I am suggesting anything . . . on my part." Did that sound as if he was insulting Lewis? "For I myself am hardly an artist." Damn it all he needed to stop talking. Glancing at his glass as if he was somehow willing it to fill up again.
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"I was, merely curious to know if it something you held interest in or desired." He needed to stop talking lest he sound more like a fool. But fortunately -- and unfortunately at the same time -- Lewis had asked a question, about Benedict's own start of his artistic path. "My interest peaked when I was a boy. I would often go on hikes and the colours found in nature most intrigued me." Benedict had initially started with landscape art but that was certainly worse than his current sketches.
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"My transition to the human form came solely out of habit and convenience. I found myself sketching images of my family during different events. Spectating and taking in every detail of expression and physicality." There was partial truth to his statement; for the deeper reasons for the transition were far too personal. Benedict paused for a moment, the subject of art not one that he so easily spoke of. But, he supposed that there had been certain . . . limitations lifted in regards to what he and Lewis could speak of considering the previous topic. "My apologies," Benedict said with a small, slightly sheepish smile. "My journey to artistic endeavors is hardly one of note." Benedict felt that it was perhaps as dull as some of the sketches themselves.
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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 13, 2021 19:23:04 GMT
I'm not bound by His eyes remained on her, studying her expression, and well . . . just simply enjoying the ability that he could watch her. That he did not have to quickly dress himself or keep reminder in the back of his mind that they had to part ways soon. Yes. This was truly a moment of peace and ease. But then her words came out that somehow made all of this feel even . . . better. Was that possible? Apparently so. For she was asking him to stay, for the night. Being invited to her home was one thing; being invited to stay was an entirely different privilege. An honor really. That she was allowing him in his home for more than just the physical pleasures they found within each other. It was about the company. Allowing him to lay in her bed, a place so personal to her.
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His eyes continued to watch her, softness behind them that touched his entire expression. So unguarded in this moment. But then, it was easy to find that feeling of not having to . . . pretend. Of just being able to himself. And to be someone at the same time. To not fade into the background nor be referred to as a number. With her, he was simply Benedict and it felt incredible to be considered such. And furthermore, to be desired as such. Desired, in a deeper way than -- as he previously thought of -- just physical. She leaned in to kiss him and he kept his eyes open, not wanting to shift his gaze from her.
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Though, he did realize that he had been simply staring -- in awe perhaps -- for quite some time without giving answer. And though it was subtle, he could see the slightest change in her own expression . . . awaiting his answer. Was it nervousness perhaps? He could hardly blame her. But nor did he wish her to doubt he could ever deny her, anything. So before being able to find the words, he leaned forward and place a light, soft kiss upon her lips. It was moments like these that maybe seemed more dangerous than the need driven ones. For they were far more . . . domestic. Born of emotion rather than physical need.
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Easing out of it, he kept his forehead close, this time his eyes closed as his lips curved into a small smile once more. "I would like that," he answered. Knowing that like perhaps was inadequate a word. "I would like that very much," he added on, hoping she was able to sense the sincerity in his words so that she did not understand it to simply be polite acceptance. No. It was something that he truly wanted.
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Opening his eyes, his hand went to the side of her head, gently tucking a loose strand of her curls behind her ear. "You are a most gracious host," he told her, playfully but also with truth. For he wanted her to hear not only hear how much he longed to stay . . . but also the gratitude that came with it. "And it would be an honor to stay," he said, barley above a whisper. Not taking it for granted. Not letting any sense of entitlement lead to expectation that he should be here. No. He was grateful, and honored to be here . . . with her.
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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 13, 2021 17:24:58 GMT
Bridgerton ◈Gifsets Hi All!! So I am making some gifsets to help advertise the site on tumblr! I thought I would just post them here ANDD open it up to requests/suggestions!! If there are any scenes that you would like me to gif or have any to suggest that would be good ones to post on tumblr, please drop them here!! It would be SUPER helpful since there are so many great ones!! hahah! I just started with a couple simple ones so far!
Benedict Bridgerton Daphne Basset Simon Basset |
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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 13, 2021 1:43:46 GMT
I'm not bound by Benedict was happy. Truly, deeply, incredibly happy. Today had marked the day where he and Sophie were married. After all the time that had passed, all the doubt, all the longing, all the heartache . . . they were now together. Sharing the sacred union of marriage, never to part. It was truly a beautiful thing and he wanted to take advantage of every moment, for he would not take a second with her for granted. Today had been wonderful as it was their wedding day, sharing it with their family. It had been a quick wedding, for now that he was able to be with Sophie . . . why wait? Why prolong it when they could start their forever together sooner. And the sooner, the better.
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Which is why they were going to celebrate their honeymoon at a place of great sentiment: My Cabin. Only this time, they were travelling in a proper carriage, not a phaeton. And this time, the weather was far more agreeable and Benedict did not have to worry about a head cold. This time . . . it was different. Even the carriage ride here had been wonderful, enjoying the teases, the playfulness, and just the joy of being together; now being married. Benedict did not wish to deal with the ton and the gossips they would inevitably spread about their union -- as his mother had warned him. He longed only for Sophie, to be with her and that was all that mattered. Holding her hand in his, they were nearing their escape from the world, and he could not help but lean in to place a few light kisses upon her cheek.
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"I should inform you," he began to say between each kiss, a smile upon his lips -- an expression impossible to fade considering how happy he was. "That I gave Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree the night off." So that they would have the place to themselves, just like they did the first night they'd arrived. Only this time, they could use it more productively for they would not be strangers, and Benedict would not be suffering from a fever. He assumed that the couple would have left dinner for them and would return in time for breakfast -- as he did not want Sophie working in the slightest. But tonight . . . he wanted her all to himself without any others about.
Tag ali Note: Better layout coming soon! Let me know if you'd like me to edit anything! Cue the honeymoon!!
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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 13, 2021 1:09:16 GMT
I'm not bound by One's sister was enough to lower any man's arousal, but an angry sister allowed his mind to get even more distracted as she stood there telling him off. Yes! Most excellent. Her presence and voice was certainly helping clear him of this . . . situation. Hopefully soon enough so that he may lower his pillow at some point in the near future. "My health is perfectly fine," he managed to get out, slightly clenching his jaw at his still dissatisfied state . . . no matter how much it was waning. It was still bloody uncomfortable.
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He knew that Daphne was far too innocent to understand these things, and a part of him hoped that she never did. Or at least not think back on this conversation and finally understand why he was acting this way. Why he felt the need to hold a pillow at his lower region. "What did you even hear that you claim came from my room?" He asked, wondering if that was even a relevant question. Or rather, whether he truly wanted to know the answer. Surely he'd been quiet. Had he knocked over something? Was she certain it was coming from his room? Perhaps if he just kept her talking -- and annoyed -- it would help his situation considerably.
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the rules of society.
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