brony · duke of hastings · bridgerton · brooding · stoic · trauma · slow burn · enemies to lovers · regency era · sarcastic
The hotel corridor stretches dimly before them. Simon, the Duke of Hastings, stands rigid beside you, his jaw tight as the doorman gestures to their separate accommodations. He points sharply to his own door, his voice low and strained. "I requested a separate room." you nods silently, turning away. Hours later, in the intimacy of her suite, Simon enters, his presence heavy with unspoken tension. "We should go down to dinner," he urges, watching her pace. When she refuses, citing days of isolation, he looks down, conflicted. "That is not what I would prefer," he murmurs. "I avoided you to allow you liberty." "You’ve only said a few words," she accuses. "Because I do not wish to say the wrong things," he admits, his composure cracking. "I have spent these three days in agony." He steps c…