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Post by Rose Fletcher on Oct 10, 2022 22:49:50 GMT
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Oct 10, 2022 22:46:12 GMT
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Oct 10, 2022 22:42:47 GMT
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Oct 10, 2022 22:39:49 GMT
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Oct 10, 2022 22:33:39 GMT
[ ● ] my muse catches yours snooping through their belongings.
@eloisebridgerton |
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Oct 10, 2022 22:30:14 GMT
[ ➤ ] my muse accidentally punches your muse in the face.
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Jan 9, 2022 22:41:05 GMT
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THEY'RE SO HAPPY AND INNOCENT! | It felt like such a pity to spend such a beautiful day cooped up inside the house. Yet that was how she had been destined to spend the day, working on a small pile of clothes that had seen better days. It was dull and repetitive work, but brought in a meagre income that made life a little more comfortable.
Only when her fingers had started to hurt from the continual stitching had she decided to break from her work. Her mother would surely be home soon from working in the shop, and she had to make a start on tidying up the house before she returned- or she would hear no end of complaints, about how she treated the family home as though it were a pigsty.
Rose cleared off the table, folding the garments and tucking them safely out of the way. Humming to herself as she went through the motions, and considered walking to meet her mother on her way home from work. It was a good day for a stroll and possibly the only opportunity she would get to appreciate the good weather.
She gasped when someone placed their hands over her eyes. Her initial reaction was to jab them in the ribs with her elbow, but she stopped herself when they spoke, revealing their identity.
"You think I wouldn't recognize your voice?" she asked, reaching up to pull his hands away. Rose turned to look at him and couldn't keep from smiling as she did "what are you doing here? Besides giving me a fright" she hadn't been expecting him, but wasn't displeased by his arrival. Bellamy was the only unexpected guest that she ever truly hoped for on a day like today, when she was looking for any excuse to take some time away from work.
She guessed that whatever his reason for dropping by unannounced, it would make her day infinitely better. |
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Jan 9, 2022 1:43:11 GMT
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TELL HER THE TRUUUUTH |
Rose had never been a runner, her mother had not raised her to think it appropriate to flee when things got tough, but in that moment all she wanted to do was to push past him and find the nearest exit. She still had to finish fixing that poxy gown though, but she couldn't imagine completing such a task when she felt sure her hands would be shaking if she attempted to take up the needle again.
She tried not to meet his gaze, that seemed so intense and yet comfortingly familiar. His eyes, they were the one thing that had stayed the same. His clothes, posture... Even his hair, had all changed, groomed to perfection to meet with the standards of high society. But nothing could be done to change those eyes.
She almost smiled. But then the heaviness in her heart eradicated any chance of that. It had been so long since she'd smiled at him, the times where they'd spend all day in each others company, laughter and conversation flowing so easily between them, was far behind them.
He stepped closer, closing some of the distance between them and when he next spoke, his voice was lower; secretive. Rose swiped a hand over her cheek in frustration at a stray tear and forced herself to look at him once again. A knot seemed to form in her stomach at his words, how honest and sincere they sounded while her mind told her that they simply could not be true.
"You-" she almost cut him off but stopped short, forcing herself to hear him out. She still believed that she owed him nothing, but was compelled to listen- part of her hoping, praying that whatever explanation he had, would be enough to mend things.
Wishful thinking. She was a fool.
Bellamy glanced towards the door, and then lowered his voice further, causing Rose to have to lean forward slightly to hear what he had said.
"Taken?" her own voice mimicked his whisper, brow knitting together as she tried to make sense of what he was telling her. It was difficult to believe, and her first reaction was to think the information false, that he was just attempting to make an excuse for discarding her.
She exhaled. It was exhausting, caring for a man who would go to such lengths and spin such lies, in an attempt to make himself forgivable. It would be so much easier if she could just turn her feelings for him off, it would make walking away so much more bearable.
"Bellamy, I don't..." she sighed, keeping her voice low. But maybe this was her only chance to learn the truth, because she doubted she would see him again after she left his house. "You must promise to tell me the truth, all of it" she pressed, unwilling to accept anything less from him, not when this was hard enough.
"If you promise me the truth, then I will hear it" if he denied her that, then there was nothing left to say.
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Jan 4, 2022 3:04:54 GMT
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oop | London wasn't what she'd envisioned. When she'd first pictured what her life would be after moving to the city, it was far from the reality of the situation. Drinking alone in a crowded bar while she contemplated all of her decisions that had led her to this point.
The city was dirty and crowded, the people rude and self-involved. She missed the quiet community of her hometown, where the people cared for their neighbours as if they were family. It was easy to feel alone in a place where everything moved so fast and no one spared someone like her a second glance.
She beckoned the bartender over and ordered another drink, grimacing after the first sip. They definitely watered their shit down here. It almost wasn't worth paying for, but she was trying to wallow in her own self pity and sure as hell didn't intend to do that sober.
Rose didn't hear the door open, too focused on the brown liquid in her glass to pay the comings and goings of other patrons much mind. She barely glanced up when a man stopped beside her, leaning against the bar and calling loudly for the bartender in a way that spoke volumes of his entitlement.
She cast a sideways glance towards him, he was dressed in fine clothes, the sort that made him stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this. That explained a lot about his actions and they way he carried himself. The unrivalled confidence of a nobleman who believed he was Gods gift to humanity.
He glanced her way and their eyes locked briefly before she had a chance to look away. That was the only invitation that he needed, and she felt him lean towards her. The closeness was uncomfortable and she felt the urge to move away, but remained in her seat and continued to stare into the depths of her drink.
He said something. She wasn't listening.
"-hello, are you deaf?"
Lowering her glass to the bar, she sighed. Apparently nobles weren't capable of taking a hint, and she had been so looking forward to spending the evening alone. "Not deaf, just not interested" she said, hoping that the frown on her face would be enough to persuade him to move onto an easier- and more willing target.
"At least let me buy you a drink?"
"I have one, buy me another if you'd like but then you can leave" she wasn't the type to turn away a free drink, but the company that came with it? That, she was not interested in.
She'd been told that she was hard to get along with, that wasn't news to her. It seemed that nobles took rejection harder than the lads back home though, because this apparent gentleman looked as though she'd slapped him in the face. Was he such a stranger to the idea that a woman might have more productive ways to spend her time than with him?
Rose wondered if he would stay to pester her further, or leave her alone. But before she could find out, another man approached the bar and abruptly interrupted their conversation. He had a rather unconventional way of helping the man to admit defeat, but his methods still had her reeling from the sudden escalation of events.
The noble was sent tumbling to the floor from the mans kick and Rose practically slid from her stool in an attempt to remove herself from the middle of what could potentially be a rather hazardous situation.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" she demanded of the stranger who'd initiated the apparently unprovoked attack. Did the two men have history that she was unaware of? Could it not have waited until they were outside to start some kind of brawl? Men, honestly could they never resolve matters with a conversation? It was always about whoever could throw the first punch.
She almost thought about helping the man up from where he had fallen, before remembering that she didn't care for his comfort.
"Is that how you solve all your problems, by throwing your weight around?" whatever it was, she wanted no part in it and wished she had been left alone to finish her drink. |
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Nov 18, 2021 14:25:20 GMT
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| Rose didn’t know what he had expected. Was she supposed to greet him with jubilation, and open her arms to him as if nothing had changed. As though no time had passed and they were both the same people as they’d been the last time they saw each other. That wasn’t true. Too much time had passed between them and now she was standing in a room with a man who felt like a stranger.
She glared at the servant when they dared to protest her actions. She felt like telling them that no, she most certainly could. Because all of her fondest memories were of him, and she was so desperately angry with him for causing her so much distress.
Rose had forgotten that they could not simply exist in the same space anymore. There were rules and etiquette that got in the way and complicated things. Of course, she was not permitted to lay her hands on him; It surprised her they even allowed her to breathe the same air as his Lordship. He was the son of a Duke and she, well... She was nothing.
He requested the servant leave the room, and then they were alone. The buffer gone.
“I never forgot about you”
“I thought you were dead” her voice wavered, hearing the apparent sincerity in his own, and almost believing it. “I grieved for you” one day he had been there, and the next he was gone. No goodbye. No explanation. “But you weren’t gone, you left” that realization was perhaps the most painful of all.
He had been her best friend, the one person she thought she could rely on no matter what. Only he'd proven her wrong, because he walked away to embrace a whole new life, and he hadn't looked back.
“I missed you,”
She desired nothing more than to believe him. That she had not been just a forgettable chapter in his life, but how could she trust his word.
“You left me” the retort was sharp, bitter that he spoke those words as though he meant them. "You have no right" no right to say such things, to try to convince her that they might be true. He had obviously been so wrapped up in this masquerade that he had not spared her a second thought.
Now he felt guilty. Faced with her standing there, it was unexpected. She'd caught him off guard and he was looking for forgiveness.
And she was furious. Because she wanted nothing more than to give it to him, despite the hell that he'd put her through.
"I missed you too" she almost choked on the words, hating to admit it. To allow him that glimmer of hope that maybe she still felt something other than anger and frustration towards him.
But he was standing in front of her now. Different. But alive.
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Nov 16, 2021 1:29:34 GMT
Accepting!
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Nov 16, 2021 1:29:22 GMT
Accepting!
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Nov 16, 2021 1:28:44 GMT
Accepting!
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Nov 16, 2021 1:28:11 GMT
Accepting!
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Post by Rose Fletcher on Nov 16, 2021 1:27:57 GMT
Accepting!
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