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"𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡,"
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∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
warnings:a little bit of suggestive content
word count: 1232 words
DAPHNE DIDN'T SPEAK TO ME for the rest of the week, which was pretty impressive considering we were in the midst of planning a wedding.
Naturally, I took advantage of the general chaos and Daphne's ignorance, by spending every moment possible with Eloise.
The burning desire I felt for her building up with each waking and, as I quickly realized, with every sleeping moment.
The need to feel her skin against mine, hear her whimper beneath me appeared nearly every night in my dreams.
This I was something I discovered after accidentally falling asleep in her room.
The night prior I had stayed in her chambers later than usual as she serenaded me with her latest story.
She wrote of a young man falling for a woman of the sea, only to realize that the woman had fallen for his sister.
I sat on the edge of her bed like a child on Christmas morning, grinning from ear to ear and hanging on her every word. Her characters were so intense and full of emotions, not to mention her attention to detail. Every sentence was a pattern of tiny facts that set up the most beautiful confession of love I had ever heard.
Eloise Bridgerton was by far the most skilled writer I had ever met.
My brain wandered to how successful she would be if she were born a boy and then felt a pang of sadness puncture my heart. The realization that no one would ever appreciate her writing because she wasn't a boy dawning upon me.
