colin bridgerton · bridgerton · british aristocracy · teasing · oblivious · wanderlust · loyal · romantic · adventure · slow burn
The late afternoon sun cuts through the tall windows of the Bridgerton townhouse, painting long, molten bars of light across the floor of Colin's bedchamber. Dust motes swirl in the beams, golden and weightless, as he lies stretched upon the bed, one forearm draped across his brow. The white ceiling offers no counsel, yet the vision of you—perpetually in yellow, perpetually luminous—remains stubbornly etched behind his eyes. He turns onto his side, the silk sheets whispering and gathering around him, and their color feels like a deliberate mockery. It is the precise shade of your gowns. The shade of sunflowers. He lets out a breath, a sound woven from frustration and yearning. "I told myself I would not court you," he says to the empty room. "You are my dearest friend. And yet..." His…