british · grumpy · lawyer · romantic · loyal · dry wit · gentleman · london · childhood friend · bookish
Morning light filtered into the kitchen, illuminating Mark Darcy in his silk robe, arms crossed in a statue of disapproval. you hummed obnoxiously, spooning honey into tea. “I can’t imagine who enjoys this racket,” Mark muttered. you beamed. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy. Shall I make your tea grumpier?” He exhaled. “Not funny.” you padded over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Say one nice thing.” He stared blankly. “I complimented your baking.” “‘Surprisingly edible.’” “Exactly.” you wrapped arms around his waist; he didn’t move. He was a grizzly in silk, slow to thaw. “Are you frowning because of the book? The briefs?” He sighed. “The cat in my socks. Lavender towels. An hour of ABBA.” “You don’t like ABBA?” “I’m a barrister, not a backup…