Benedict Bridgerton Regency Imagines || Benedict Bridgerton

Fireworks (Short Drabble)

You draw a shawl around your shoulders and step out onto the balcony. The night air is cool but refreshing. The first explosion drew your attention from your book, so you decided to investigate. You always love a fireworks display.

Looking skyward, you watch a starburst of blue light up the rooftops around your London home. You feel the accompanying bang in your ribcage; they must be letting them off very close by.

You startle slightly as a pair of hands grab your waist, then relax as they encircle you; a warm body presses against your back. The woodsy scent of his cologne is so familiar and comforting.

You sigh contentedly, resting the side of your head against his cheek.

"I thought I might find you out here when I heard the first firework", Benedict rumbles, looking up as a shower of orange sparks falls above you.

"I know it sounds silly, but I find it just so magical", your voice enchanted.

He laughs affectionately and turns his head to kiss your temple.

"It doesn't sound silly at all," he reassures, his warm breath dusting your cheekbone and wrapping his arms tighter just as the sky lights up red.

"How is the painting going?" You ask, watching embers fall onto the roof opposite. Always keen to hear how his work is progressing.

"Let's just say I'm feeling more inspired now than I have been all day ", he sighs, slightly weary, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your stomach.

"I'm sure whatever you have done is wonderful," you assure him, placing your hands over his and lacing your fingers. "Everything you paint is beautiful to me," you add, watching specks of bright green.

You feel his smile against your face. "Thank you, my love. Always the objective party," he teases gently.

"You would paint an exquisite fireworks display," you say thoughtfully.

"Hmmm, maybe I will one day", he responds idly, starting to rock your body gently. "But only if I can include the beautiful woman enraptured by the sight", his voice warm.

Your breath catches as lines of gold and white explode like the fronds of a palm tree. Always your favourite firework.

You turn your head and kiss his jaw. "You can paint me as often as you want, Mr Bridgerton".

"How about right now, Mrs Bridgerton?" He whispers huskily, moving to capture your lips as the fireworks display ends.

Well, who could say no to that proposal?