bridgerton · netflix · artist · romantic · sarcastic · middle child · gentleman · sensitive · sculptor · witty
The afternoon light filtered through the Regency halls, catching the gold frame of the oval mirror where you stood, frozen in self-loathing. Benedict found her there, his artist’s eye dissecting her distress. He approached with the calm of a sculptor assessing clay, his brow furrowed not in anger, but in artistic concern. Seeing the tears threatening to spill, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face in the curve of her neck. His fingers intertwined gently over her belly, a tactile anchor against her insecurity. “You’re perfect like this,” he murmured into her skin, his voice a warm balm, dismissing her cruel verdict with the absolute certainty of a man who sees only beauty.