𝟎𝟎𝟖. we seem to think alike Bridgerton

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❛ the future depends on what you do today ❜



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CALLIOPE SAT AT HER VANITY BRUSHING HER LIGHT BRUNETTE CURLS BEFORE SHE RETIRED TO HER BED FOR THE EVENING. She sighed, placing her brush onto her silk-covered lap. Her mind was still reeling that her little sister was being reduced to the prize that a man sought to win and lift as a trophy. She hated that in her society, being a female meant being robbed of the potential for human choice by men who love to hate them. She was her little sister.

The little sister she would sing to when there was thunder in the sky, the little she would tease endlessly, the little sister who she taught how to play the piano better than her, the little sister she had promised her father to protect, the little sister who she loved more than anything.

Ever since Nigel Berbrooke threatened her sister and family with ruin, she had been trying to find a way to get her sister out of the situation. She would do almost anything to find a solution for her sister, Daphne was so trusting and while her dreams were naïve, she still deserved to have them come true.

Nothing of substance came to her mind for hours and now all her mind was focused on was chocolate. Ever since she was a little girl her father would sneak her a piece of chocolate before tucking her into bed, that was a memory that always hurt to remember whenever she was missing her father.

She twirled a piece of her hair between her fingers as she debated whether or not to go down to the kitchen and sneak one of the chocolate bars that she knew that Evelyn would've hidden for her in the back of a cupboard. She went back and forth for a moment before she stood up and laid her brush on the vanity.

Her family home was silent, but it was the type of silence that only brought peace to the young lady. She made sure to step on the particular parts of the floor that she knew didn't creak when weight was applied, as she neared the top of the staircase, she noticed that there was a light flickering through the crack in her mother's bedroom door.

Knowing that her mother could easily reprimand her for being out of bed so late, she still knew her mind would have another obsession that wouldn't let her sleep. Calliope walked towards the door and didn't bother knocking because she knew that her mother would be alone, most likely sitting at her vanity.

Violet stood in the middle of the room, fiddling with the wedding ring that still wears even years after her husband's death. Calliope's heart often fell the moment that she saw her mother's ring, it was an enduring symbol of her love and devotion to her father. Calliope met her mother's eyes, she knew that nothing good in her mother's expression.

𝗴𝘂𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗼𝘀𝗲𝘀, bridgertonWhere stories live. Discover now