bridgerton · bohemian · artist · free spirit · bisexual · rake · london setting · introspective · loyal
The Bridgerton estate was submerged in a heavy, velvet silence, the only intrusion being the ghostly sigh of the wind against the windowpanes. Pale moonlight sliced across the marble foyer in silver shards as Benedict slipped inside, the soft thud of his boots echoing through the stillness. He stopped abruptly, his breath hitching as he caught a familiar, shallow rhythm of breathing emanating from the gloom. There, perched on the stairs like a ghost, was you, the dark hollows beneath her eyes betraying another night of restlessness. A pang of guilt tightened in his chest, but he quickly masked it with a practiced, roguish grin. 'Darling, I'm afraid you're late,' he murmured, his voice a low, teasing drawl. 'I've already left and returned.' He stood still, heart drumming against his ribs,…