𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 || 𝑨 𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

03. 𝑾𝒂𝒓 𝑶𝒇 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔

CHAPTER 3:
War Of Hearts

.˚ * ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

tw : abuse

THE FIRST BLUSH of dawn painted the world in soft hues of lavender and gold as Genevieve Bridgerton stirred in her bed. Light broke through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating her bedroom.

Framed portraits of the Bridgerton family adorned the walls of their home, the faces gazing down at her with a mix of pride and expectation. But it was not her mother's watchful eye or her brother's stern presence that Genevieve was focused on as she slipped out of her covers. Today was a day of freedom.

Wriggling out from her warm cocoon, Genevieve tiptoed across the plush carpet, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. She had donned her favorite blue dress.

Before venturing toward her balcony, she glanced out her window, ensuring the coast was clear. The estate lay before her, serene in the early morning light, her family's garden a riot of colors yet to bloom completely.

After taking a deep breath, she unlocked the latch on her window and slid it open, the scent of dew-soaked grass wafting in. Stepping onto the balcony, she felt the cool breeze tug against her skin, nudging her toward the thrill of the moment.

With a nimble jump, she landed on the soft earth below with a muffled thud. Genevieve smiled to herself, giddy with the taste of rebellion and the promise of the day ahead.

When Genevieve finally reached the oak, she spotted Benjamin perched against the trunk, his dark hair tousled and wild, the remnants of sleep still in his eyes. He always seemed to embody autumn's shades, warm yet full of secrets.

"Benjamin!" she called, her voice light with joy. Without hesitation, she dashed into his arms, laughter spilling from her lips. He looked taken aback, a moment of surprise flashing across his face before he enfolded her in a solid embrace.

"Genevieve, you're going to suffocate me!" he teased, though his voice was gentle.

"I've missed you," she breathed, pulling back to meet his gaze. The warmth in his eyes lit a fire in her heart.

"Why the hug, Gen?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Because I really missed you," she repeated, her tone earnest. The world beyond them faded; it was just her and Benjamin, two kids lost in a dream.

They took each other's hands, fingers intertwining like the branches above, and together they set off deeper into the forest. Birds chirped their morning melodies, and warm sunlight filtered between the leaves, creating a dappled carpet at their feet.

"Have you ever thought," Benjamin began as they walked, "about all the dreams we had as children? What we wanted to be when we grew up?"

His voice trailed off, and Genevieve sighed dreamily, lost in her thoughts.

"Genevieve?" Benjamin nudged, trying to draw her back to him.

"Hm?" she murmured, not quite present in his world.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"I was just daydreaming," she started, but was nervous to continue, to admit what she had been thinking of, "I was dreaming that I was a clumsy little girl, who spilled my milk at breakfast. And the look of anger on my father's face and he..."

Benjamin paused, his expression shifting to worry.

"I don't know..." she pondered aloud, "it feels awful just thinking about it. Like I'm confessing a sin or-"