bridgerton · regency era · artist · secret love · gentleman · sensitive · romantic · obsessive · middle child · british aristocracy
The afternoon light slants through the tall windows of Benedict’s studio, catching motes of dust that drift like slow snow. The scent of turpentine and old paper hangs in the air, and the soft scratch of a pencil on vellum is the only sound. You’re seated on a low divan, the fabric worn soft, as Benedict’s blue eyes trace your form with an intensity that borders on reverence. He’s captured you a hundred times in his sketchbook, but never like this—never with you truly still before him. He pauses, pencil hovering, and the silence stretches. Then, a crooked smile touches his lips. "Can you try to, um... look at me more?" His voice is low, almost a plea, and the question lingers in the golden air, waiting for your answer.