𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 (𝐓𝐞𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

                     ✿ [Y/N] POV ✿

I took his hand in mine and gently stood on my toes to kiss him on the cheek. Then I directed my gaze to large clock in the center of the library. Almost half an hour has passed.

We had spent the better part of an hour talking—trading stories, hesitations, and glimpses of who we truly were beneath our titles. It wasn't just idle conversation; it was discovery, delicate and earnest, as though peeling back layers we hadn't allowed anyone else to touch.

I glanced over at Tewkesbury again, and to my quiet surprise, I found him already watching me. His expression was unreadable—something between awe and wonder, as if he were studying a portrait he was afraid to blink away.

Slowly, he raised a hand and cupped my cheek. His thumb brushed just below my eye, the gentleness of it unraveling my composure. He leaned in again, his gaze flicking briefly to my lips.

But just before his lips could meet mine, I lifted my gloved hand, placing two fingers—my index and middle—softly against his mouth.

He stilled.

"I'd like to know you more," I whispered, "before we kiss again."

His eyes searched mine, not with disappointment, but with sincerity. He gave a nod—one full of understanding.

"I'm afraid I can't help myself," he said, his voice just above a murmur, "you're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on."

I pursed my lips, my heart aching from the restraint. How I longed to throw caution aside, to kiss him again, to forget Phillip and the path already paved for me. But I couldn't. I would not be the kind of woman who betrayed her own heart—or someone else's.

"I'm sure you say that to every girl you kiss," I murmured.

He shook his head, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. His hand came up again, this time to gently tuck a stray strand of my [h/c] hair behind my ear.

"No," he said simply. "You're the only girl I've ever kissed."

I stared at him, blinking in surprise. Could that be true?

"It was my first kiss as well," I admitted quietly, my smile hesitant but real.

His warm brown eyes softened, a flicker of delight lighting them as he chuckled.

Before I could say another word, I heard my name being called—sharp and echoing through the quiet of the library.

We both turned, startled. The voice was drawing closer.

"I must go," I said hurriedly, already pulling my hand from his.

His expression fell, just slightly. "Must you?" he asked, and brought his hand once more to the side of my face. I leaned into his touch without meaning to, my eyes closing for a moment too long.

"I can't risk being seen," I told him, softly but firmly.

He gave a faint nod. Then, bending down, he pressed a delicate kiss to my cheek.

My breath caught. I could only stare at him as I began to walk away, still holding his hand. He didn't let go at first, fingers lingering around mine. And then, at last, his hand slipped from mine, and I was alone in the hallway.

I hurried back toward the ballroom, praying no one had noticed my absence. As I entered, I saw a few girls turning their heads, whispering behind fans, eyes narrowed in confusion—or judgment.

Then came Enola. She appeared as if summoned by instinct, arms crossed, lips pursed.

"And where, exactly, have you been?" she demanded.

"The bathroom," I said, too quickly. "Those crab cakes were rather—"

She cut me off with a single dismissive wave. "You were with the Basilwether heir."

My silence betrayed me. I couldn't meet her eyes. She smirked.

"I knew it," she said, sliding her arm into mine. We began walking back toward Phillip, Daisy, and Lorenzo. "Phillip's been worrying himself into a state. Daisy's trying to distract him, but it's not working. Lorenzo hasn't taken his eyes off the door since you left."

Sure enough, as we neared the trio, I saw Phillip pace toward us. He reached me first, taking my face in both hands with a rush of concern.

"Where were you?" he asked, his voice colored with his Italian accent, more evident now in his worry. "You've been gone so long—I thought perhaps—"

"I was in the bathroom," I said quickly. "Perhaps I had a bit too much to eat."

He didn't look convinced. I could feel his pale blue eyes trying to read the truth from mine.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, my stomach coiling with guilt. This isn't fair to him, I thought. This isn't right.

"I also stepped out for some fresh air," I added gently. "The ballroom was stifling."

His brows drew together.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He exhaled slowly, but nodded.

I looked back, scanning the crowd, heart still fluttering from the weight of what had happened. But Tewkesbury was gone. No sign of him, nor of the friend who had stood by him earlier. As if the moment we shared had vanished with him.

And though I turned my face back to Phillip, smiling sweetly, a quiet ache had settled in my chest.

I missed him already.

                                 —

     I spent the rest of the night of with Phillip. He never left my side and demanded he go everywhere with me. I thought it to be polite and somewhat sweet at first, that is until it just got annoying.

I laid in my bed, wearing my white long sleeved nightgown, made with the finest silk of course. I found myself staring at the white ceiling that has patterns carved into it, a large painting of angels flying in a blue sky, enveloped in clouds, in the shape of circle in the middle.

  I fiddled with the ribbon on my nightgown, as I thought back to Tewkesbury. Back to the kiss we shared, how I wish more than anything to be able to kiss him more.

   I quickly shook my head in shame and furrowed my eyebrows, I can't be thinking that!

I hate myself even more for crying after the kiss, but I couldn't help myself, as badly as I hate how Tewksbury made me feel in that moment, I still wish I had kissed him more.

  Then I thought to Phillip, my eyes rolling as I thought about him. I've decided I don't feel anything for him, I care about him but I don't like him as anything more than a friend. Even if he is incredibly handsome and caring.

  My eyes stared to droop and I yawned, clearly talking and dancing all night seems to have worn me out.

As I drifted into sleep, my lasts thoughts being of the boy who has made me feel like no other has.

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This chapter sucks. A little filler chapter but don't worry I promise the next one is where it gets better!

What are your guys thoughts on Tewkesbury and [Y/N]??

-ur friend sucks at dancing