❛ hello! you’re tall! ❜ a rather abrupt introduction, but she hasn’t time to be polite! ❛ i can’t see above the crowd. quick, tell me if there’s an older red-haired lady with a searching look coming this way! she’s my aunt and I’M HIDING from her. ❜
he stands at attention immediately, on reflex alone. for a minute, colin’s sure it’s one of his sisters come to accost him --- the ambush is very eloise, and he’s halfway turned with a wry comment on his lips before recognizing an unfamiliar face. his comment turns into a cough. ❝ i see, ❞ he manages, once he’s caught his breath. ❝ well --- hmm. it’s a sea of grand dames, so, difficult to say for sure . . . is the lady in question gracing us all with a feather - plumed headdress? ❞ he mourns the poor peacocks sacrificed at the altar of aunty’s fashion sense. ❝ she wasn’t on her way a moment ago, but i regret to inform you . . . ❞ he adjusts his stance, making himself a bit broader, a bit more of a shield. ❝ she’s moving this way. ❞
𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 from continent to continent, leaving the likes of england along with future dukedom and heirship behind. he returned upon the duke — his father — falling gravely ill, and was to soon bear the weight of his duties atop broad, unwilling shoulders as a result. the more he dwelled on the matter, the more displeasure it brought him. for he was fully aware that there was no objectionable cousin willing to take his place in society, he was painfully aware that his duties would catch up to him. thus he acquired passage aboard the titanic minutes prior to departure from southampton, and the voyage was one he knew he’d be recounting for the years to come.
presently, the reformed rake’s forearm rests atop the urbane table between them, a gaze that was priorly contemplative now all but bemused. ❝ …. i won’t pretend to infer half of what you’ve just said, ❞ he almost regrets speaking at all, almost, for the brief twitch at the corner of his lips proves that this exchange was one he was unanticipatedly appreciating. ❝ — now i do suppose you’re right, but here i am — running from a future that awaits me. ❞
❝ it is one that won’t change. ❞
he considers this for a minute, just weighing simon’s current crisis. fair enough, it sounds like a disaster --- probably is, from where the poor fella stands, and those are some expensive shoes jack is very glad not to try on. charcoal - stained fingers drum against the tabletop, restless ; jack chews it over before looking back up at him again, brows raised.
❝ sounds like you’ve settled on that already. ❞ without a hint of judgement, his words only come off thoughtful. ❝ i’ll be honest with you, i --- don’t know the first thing about how it all works. all the, uhh --- lords and ladies, dukes and grand dames --- ❞ is he remotely on the right track? god only knows. jack licks his lips before shaking his head, finding himself craving a cigarette. ❝ but if you don’t want it, then . . . why do anything with it? i mean, it’s still your life, even if your name’s gotta change. ❞
she listens closely to every word. ❝ i hadn’t thought about it that way. as a memory. ——i don’t think my stories work like that. one day i’d like to compile a book on all my adventures, but i haven’t had that many yet, so with most of my stories i’m creating something rather than preserving it. ❞ wendy usually didn’t even write them down. it didn’t feel the same way when she tried to commit her imagination to paper. she could do it, but there were ways it fell short. her storytelling was as much acting as writing, her voice lilting or sorrowful or fierce by turn ; it was the freedom to allow the story to take her down a course she had not foreseen ; it was the shared space of storyteller and audience where both were transported to another world entirely. ❝ I LIKE the idea of being able to capture a moment. and of pictures having stories. ❞
he clears his throat, looking away to hide an unexpected burst of awkwardness. she --- likes his ideas? what’s more, she really seems to be chewing them over, giving them more weight than they probably deserve. most people --- let alone, most rich young ladies --- wouldn’t bother. ❝ yeah. it’s . . . i mean, i could never do what you do. better with my hands then --- ❞ he makes a funny sort of mime motion, like a crab, and quickly lowers his hand again. ❝ well, that’s the whole point of it. sometimes i think up stories while i’m drawing . . . but usually it’s worth more to talk to people. nine times out of ten, their real stories are more interesting than anything a normal brain can spin up. ❞ he lingers over the portrait of a woman in moth - eaten finery, one of his relics from montmartre. ❝ she was waiting for her lost love. every night, she’d just . . . sit there, with her glass of wine, watching the door for him to come in. for twenty years. ❞
❝ your future wife will have a headache no matter how refined of a lady she is because of your whining. i think we should all begin praying for her now, whoever she may be. ❞ the mischievous look on her face only spreads, and eloise is a great deal more amused than she is annoyed at this point. not that she’s forgotten why she confronted him in the first place, though. ❝ if you supposedly do not have any money, then you cannot think that i would have any more than you do, colin. ❞ not entirely true, but she found it hard to imagine that any of her older brothers could have lighter pockets than she.
❝ well, then --- ❞ he flaps his arms in demonstration . . . a bit like a penguin, but it gets the point across. ❝ what are we to do? ❞ he’s certainly not footing the bill for sweets he didn’t even get to consume . . . and, frankly, leaving colin alone in a bakery is dangerous. a terrible idea all around. he glances around the hall, as though searching for anyone else to help them --- preferably, a roaming benedict they can poach for pocket change --- but comes up empty. if he doesn’t have a plan ( ever ) and eloise doesn’t have a plan ( shocking! ), where have they to turn to? ❝ shall i pawn my jewelry? sell my incisors for funds? ❞
amy gave a single nod of her head in acknowledgement, her expression a bit melancholy for just a brief moment. even in their worst moments, which amy could often be objectively responsible for, the march sisters had always been a tightly bonded bunch. when her eldest sister had married and left the house, it had been quite the goodbye, sweet in their congratulatory sentiments and well wishes for her future but bitter in that it meant all of them had more or less lost a whole piece of themselves. meg didn’t even live terribly far from them, and she’d remained entirely a permanent fixture in their lives, but adjusting to time apart had been difficult for the girls who had always been one another’s best friends. her happiness here and her wide-eyed amazement at the world she now found herself even a brief part of was genuine, and certainly not ruined by her longing for her family, but existed alongside it all the same.
his question was a bit personal, she recognized that much. however, she knew better than to ignore it, nor to express much offense outright. even if she’d felt any, which she hadn’t, surely it would have been quite impolite. amy actually felt sort of flattered that he’d ask; surely she must have thus proved interesting enough to warrant such a probing question and what seemed to be some level of interest in herself as a person. she gave her head a gentle shake, confidence in her response evident in her small smile and brightened expression. “no, i am glad to be here,” she answered. “i know how fortunate i am to be in my current position and to have the opportunity that i do to meet people and see things that are much bigger than where i come from.” the corners of her lips lifted just a bit more as she added, with a bit more levity, “besides, no one in my family quite enjoys getting dressed up and dancing all night the way i do. perhaps my oldest sister, but she is married with children of her own and not in a position for such a trip away.”
betraying unease is akin to betraying something else, too, and colin would really rather not. instead he smiles, lowering his head at miss march’s reply. at least she can tolerate impertinence with grace. ❝ so you’re the lucky one, then. ❞ he doesn’t mean it like that, and only realizes the moment it’s left his mouth. perhaps colin is fortunate to have been able to travel more, but he’s never thought of it that way. every sibling is different. ( anthony is a bloody viscount, for god’s sake --- but he would not like to see the world, and it wouldn’t suit him at all. ) ❝ lucky enough to be here, and enjoying yourself in ways you alone are suited to. to . . . have the chance to shine, in your own way. ❞
whatever end goal miss march has in mind for her time in london --- be it marriage, or simply a host of fond experiences --- he hopes she finds it. if the world she comes from is small, the ton must seem incalculably large. ( what would she make of the parthenon, he can’t help wondering . . . or the lochs of scotland, or the pyramids of egypt? if only she knew how vast the world truly is . . . ) ❝ at any rate, miss march, ❞ he replies, folding both hands behind his back --- the picture of respectability --- ❝ i am glad you’re glad to be here. you have certainly livened up the london season. it shall be a sad day when you return home . . . if you plan on it, of course. ❞
𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐘 that London society was not so different from Paris. Neither time nor location seemed to change the fact that mothers were in a fever to marry off their daughters. Corinne’s own mother would have likely been no exception to this, had she accompanied her daughter to London. As it was, Corinne was staying with extended family for the season.
❛ Paris is where I was born, ❜ she had been saying, a pleasant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she made idle conversation. Her English, though near perfect, couldn’t quite mask the accent. Corinne took a small sip from the flute of champagne in her gloved hand, letting her eyes wander for a moment around the room before settling once more on whom she was speaking to. ❛ I do miss it sometimes, but I’m quite enjoying London. Have you ever been to Paris? ❜
quick to recognize the accent, colin finds himself smiling at the flash of something familiar. warm croissants --- oh, those he remembers well --- and the sweet pastries, and the spring breezes, and the way sunlight glittered on the seine. even if it has been some years now, paris still holds a host of fond memories for him.
❝ bien sûr, ❞ he replies promptly, tongue clumsy in a language he no longer recalls like muscle memory. ❝ i spent half a year there, shortly after finishing school. your city does you credit, mademoiselle delacroix. truly beautiful. ❞ he turns his attention back to the dancers, remembering, for a moment, a parisian ballroom instead --- with a class of people quite different from the ton. ❝ and what has brought you to london, then? ❞
“ Are you quite sure? ” The girl couldn’t help but tease the male a bit longer, yet all in good humour. Still she would have to insist on her judgement, her oldest brother and head of the house was skilled at both song and poetry after all, an artistic soul indeed tantalised with the small mercies of young love. Alas, Daenerys must have been the only lady present that was not actually searching for a husband, whether it be a bridgerton or not, thus it made the banter between the two all the more light-hearted and amusing. At his question her lilac hues were raised to glance out of the window, willing herself to decide between nature’s marvellous creations. “ I believe the moon is most suited— there is a sense of kinship, ” and indeed it was if her hair were moonglow itself. Yet there was another reason as well. “ I am quite fond of the goddess Artemis as well, thus I feel all the more compelled. Would my lord choose the sun instead? ”
he hums in agreement, regarding the entire conversation with more gravity than it deserves. yes, the moon would certainly suit her well ; there is a certain glow to miss targaryen’s coloring, almost as if a bit of the moon’s lifeblood has spilled from the sky and dripped straight onto her head. as for him . . . ❝ the sun would be nice, but i doubt i could hold it, ❞ he replies, with a crooked grin. ❝ dreadful blaze of a thing. i would hate to burn through my pockets, if it would fit at all. ❞ he considers it for a moment, allowing his gaze to drift up to the ceiling ; of course, they can’t see past the canopy of glittering chandeliers to the sky somewhere far above, but it gives colin an idea anyways. ❝ no. give me stars, instead --- two or three, just to keep in a jar, and i shall be quite satisfied. easier to hold, not likely to be missed . . . and they may light up the gloomiest of nights. ❞
At the mere mention of their elder brother, an amused grin streams slowly upon her rosy lips. Her eyes look down at her fingers as she takes a tender moment of reminiscent humour; the wide look in his eyes when taken a fall due to a small slippery slope which was easily followed by a vexed expression due to the laughter she and her siblings would dare to share. “My, I do hope the weather is fairing well to him,” she sighs benevolently as her gaze returns upon her brother. “I simply…” she paused as a smirk tugs softly at her lips. “–would hate to see him suffer a fall again.” The remark was a container full of sarcasm. She couldn’t help but let a quiet laugh slip. With a gentle hand covered over her lips as if dear Anthony was close by, she composes herself.
With a roll in her eyes. “Well, we wouldn’t want that. Mama would find it most difficult parting ways with this beautiful sofa.” With a teasing grin, Daphne gestures toward the warmly lit fire place. “Come. The tea should be ready soon as I’ve requested before your–entrance of grandeur.”
“You can tell me of your snowy adventures,” she adds as she heeds closer for the grand fire place and seats herself before a tea table.
he and daphne are the closest of the siblings in age, and that has always lent them a certain bond. ever since they were children, they’ve shared most things --- the schoolroom, senses of humor, secrets and mischiefs. colin likes to think he knows his sister as well as he knows himself . . . so, of course, she doesn’t fool him for a moment with her teasing. ❝ if i perished, you would mourn me forever, ❞ he declares, allowing his head to fall back against the sofa. the dramatics last for a minute, only.
❝ alright. if you insist on a story, i’ll give you one. ❞ angling himself slightly to look at her, he crosses his arms over his chest. it helps preserve some body heat, if not much else. ❝ you know i have been busy these past few weeks . . . arranging trips isn’t all packing and planning, you know, there’s the matter of booking passage on a ship. ❞ his lips twist at the prospect ; colin is prone to seasickness on the family barge, and the idea of a channel crossing daunts him to no end. ❝ a mess, from start to finish. i shan’t bore you with the details ; needless to say, went i went into the office, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and when i came out, the streets were deep in winter. suddenly, i was up to my ankles in ice . . . and if the chill hadn’t given me a jolt, the shock would’ve. it was like stepping into another london, daph --- one perfectly removed from our own. as though i’d stumbled into another world. ❞ that must be the plot of one of eloise’s gothic novels, surely.
Her mouth had been opened to respond to his compliment, more than likely to deny it out of habit. She did not consider herself beautiful or lovely or any word to that effect, but she paused remembering her fiance’s words two days previous. Her cheeks reddened even further and her heart sped up when confronted with that and the kiss to her hand. Lord, she had thought it was hard enough during the years she had pined for him from afar, but this presented it’s own set of challenges.
“Thank you. I suppose it helps that my mother was too busy spreading the word about us to care about what I chose to wear tonight,” she quipped back, raising an amused eyebrow as she gazed back into his green eyes. “You’re looking very handsome as well, I must say. Ready to shock them all?”
a part of him is surprised lady featherington has not seized the opportunity of her daughter’s long - awaited engagement to dominate her wardrobe . . . but the harsher half of colin wonders if the woman in question cares enough to. ( god himself could not convict him for his low opinion of penelope’s mother, though he’d never voice it to her out loud. the way the woman looked over her, straight through her . . . it made his blood boil. anyone who does not see how remarkable penelope is, frankly, shouldn’t get to look on her at all. )
at any rate, she truly does look beautiful. the moment her bright gaze catches his, all bitter thoughts flee his mind. there is only her, her, her, until the end of all things . . . and he does not know what to do with all the love he has for her. instead, colin allows her hand to linger in his own, thumb caressing her knuckles with reverence. ❝ always, ❞ he replies, with his own wicked gleam. ❝ otherwise, what would be the use of showing our faces in public at all? now . . . ❞ he cannot help breaking into a grin. ❝ i hope you have saved at least one dance for me. ❞
play it cool, i said. we can be chill about the blizzard, i said. ( instead of pretty selfies i ended up getting smacked in the face with snow and laughing a lot. )
Can you at least write what are the differences between tv!Colin and book!Colin? Or how Luke sees him? If thats not a problem of course, I'm really curious about your opinion and what do you think of Luke's potrayal. Is it good, is it bad?
So let me preface this with - this is all my opinion and my speculations. If you really want I could pull out passages from the books, but frankly I’m too lazy for that. So I’m mostly going off of memory and with no real structure and probably makes no sense. Also this got long, oops???
Book!Colin: he’s mainly described as suave and charming, easy-going and funny. And kind! He’s flirty, but a different kind of rake, especially in comparison to Anthony or Simon. Specifically in TDAI, we see him from Daphne’s eyes and Colin is her favorite brother. He shows an understanding for her and Eloise - he’s the bridge between AB and DE, and the books show him in a couple of instances siding with Daphne/Eloise in their defence against Anthony/Benedict. As a side-character in books 1-3, he’s mainly there to be a) sarcastic and witty and b) meddling. His main purpose to be that character who calls out his siblings for being dumb with “knowing gazes” and stuff. (Which is ironic, of course, because... Penelope.)
Colin is actually the only Bridgerton (other than Violet) to be in every book. Just kidding, he’s not in Book 7, but he does get mentioned as a translator off-screen and Pen shows up (so therefore he left the matchmaking duties to his wife.)
Therefore, he loves his siblings, but he’s also... searching. He travels a lot, mostly to escape marriage, but also because he genuinely does like to travel and see other places (and eventually, as we discover in book 4, to write about it too.) Additionally, in book 4, you see another “ugly” side of him -
- and I’m going to take this moment to talk about how all JQ heroes are misogynistic, including Colin, and there’s one moment in particular that makes me cringe where he’s grabbing Pen’s arm, but the show has already done a good job fixing these issues subtly, so I’m pretty sure they’ll continue that trend -
where he’s got a temper and isn’t always easy-going and accepting, and the whole book is about Penelope learning about this side of him and loving him despite that. And Colin realizing he’s an idiot, but that’s secondary. In books 5-8, Colin is mainly a) missing Penelope, b) talking about Penelope, or c) eating. The exception is book 8, where he’s sidekicking Gregory being dumb, which is to be expected.
TV!Colin: So it’s not that TV!Colin is different, necessarily. Or at least, it doesn’t have to be.
If we only look at TDAI, Colin is in the background being sarcastic and supporting Daphne, but that’s pretty much it. In that way, yes tv!Colin is different. Daphne spends most of her the narrative with Anthony (even if we get a throwaway line in the pilot) and Eloise literally calls Benedict her favorite brother. (This has gotten too long, but there’s a whole other post about how, to make tv!Benedict more interesting than his book counterpart, they gave him this relationship with Eloise that was originally Colin’s in the books). They even changed the Daphne/Colin scenes to be less of Colin supporting Daphne and more Daphne taking charge (not necessarily changes I disagree with, but just saying.)
In the show, instead, we get... soft boy Colin. A virgin, naive boy who sees a pretty girl and thinks he’s in love. (Remember, it’s book canon that Colin has no fucking idea what love feels like.) I genuinely think he liked Marina and cared for her, but he didn’t actually know her. Colin is slow... he needs to know someone to fall in love with them. But, now that Colin has experienced heartbreak and been lied to, I absolutely see him coming back in the next two seasons, still charming and kind, but now a bit jaded about marriage - yes, absolutely all my siblings should get married... but no, not me, marriage isn’t for me. Which is similar, narratively speaking, to book!Colin.
So while tv!Colin appears to be softer, I’d argue he’s still witty and filled with innuendo - the “where do babies come from” scene in 1x02 is absolutely the highlight - but I think his line in 1x07 “we should tempt scandal more often” is SUCH a book!Colin line that it leaves open the possibility that he’s going to be a touch more sarcastic in the future.
However, what makes Colin my favorite, personally, is his matchmaking. He meddles in so many of the relationships - most notable Anthony/Kate and Michael/Francesca - that the lack of teasing grins or sly nudges towards Simon/Daphne in season 1 did disappoint me. I’m unsure if the show is going to hold to this characteristic or not - and season 2 with A/K will be the prime time to figure that out - but I hope they do.
Now as for Newty... a lot of these thoughts stem from his interview where he talked about how Colin is in the middle of his brothers (who he looks up to) and his sisters (who he sympathizes with and wants to support). It’s also implied, to me at least, that he’s kinda looking for his own lane... which fits perfectly with Colin’s conflict in book 4, where he wants his own legacy.
So basically, there are HINTS that all of season 1 is set-up for Colin to be more like book!Colin in the future, even if initially tv!Colin seems more like book!Gregory than anything.
And finally, and probably most importantly, I think Luke Newton is doing an excellent job with the material he has been given. I think he will continue to do an excellent job with whatever he is given in the future too.
TL; DR: Book!Colin is more explicitly sarcastic/flirty/charming and is the lowkey matchmaker whereas TV!Colin is softer and more naive... but they’ve seemed to set up an arc for him where he will return a bit more like his book character, except perhaps a tad less “annoying brother who always knows things.” Luke Newton is great and will continue to be great.
She gives her son a scolding look, but there is not much malice behind it. It is hard to stay mad at him, at all her children really. She does not have much energy for it these days. “Mad? Oh no my dear I am not mad at you. Simply disappointed.” Perhaps that is worse, though disappointment also does not last very long with her. She simply shakes her head at his attempt to charm her. It works about half the time, and she’s not willing to admit that it is mostly having the desired affect. “Oh very well, this time you will have my forgiveness, but be careful, next time I will not be so easy.” Yet there’s a soft smile tugging her lips saying otherwise.
he feels almost like a child again, from the way his shoulders slump at her declaration. disappointed is far worse than angry. with anger, there is something to work with, usually something to amend. with disappointment . . . you have simply done wrong. colin shifts on his heels, posture tense, unable to quite meet her eyes. only when his mother gives in and grants forgiveness does he find it in him to smile again. ❝ where would any of us be without your mercy? ❞ far less indulged, he suspects, but far unhappier, too. colin crosses the room on silent feet, already reaching for his mother’s hand, like a young boy eager to plead forgiveness. ❝ i did not mean to disappoint you, mamma. you must know that. ❞
❝ ah ––– did she indeed ? ❞ Esmeralda places a soft kiss on her daughter’s sticky cheek, smiling at the taste of blackberry on her lips. Oh, that every morning might be as this one ! she does feel so wonderfully spoiled: what she could have done to deserve this in a lifetime of pilfering & vice, she’s no idea. It seems impossible now that she had once been so very frightened by the notion of bringing Maristela into the world, of living as a ––– well, yes, she supposes they ARE a family. ❝ none so pleasant that they could possibly compare to my waking hours. ❞ in truth, they’d been rotten nightmares of old fears that she’d been only too glad to wake from ––– sleeping in a still bed does odd things to a mind so accustomed to a slumber rocked by the waves. But she can hardly take it upon herself to SPOIL the moment, certainly not in front of their giggling child who is even now cunningly sneaking more jam from the tray with all the accomplished thievery of her mother. So Esmeralda only leans gently into his touch, seeking more as pirates do. Her voice is low, still sleep kissed: ❝ and you, my darling ? how did you sleep ? ❞
he has been thoroughly disarmed by them both --- his daughter and his wife, and the very notion still leaves his head reeling. to think . . . where they began, compared to where they have ended. from tentative cooperation, through prison, to the ghost of a lover haunting cornwall’s shores . . . esmeralda has become very, very real, and made true dreams he never even realized he was harboring. has there ever been a more fortunate man . . . or a more beautiful woman and daughter? ❝ with you by my side, i had only sweet dreams, ❞ he confesses. ( no need to mention maristela prodding him awake at sometime close to dawn, overeager to begin the day, but knowing better than to disturb mama’s rest. ) a soft smile plays on his lips ; hand straying to her hair, he allows himself to caress silky strands of bedhead, brushing the curtain back from her face. i love you, he thinks, but does not speak aloud.
instead, natural pragmatism rises unbidden to disrupt the idyllic moment. ❝ i've an hour or so before i’m due at the mines . . . it may be a long day. you know i hate to leave you . . . ❞ hence, the breakfast ; a small treat, a way to be with esmeralda for the rest of the day. he always harbors a secret fear, deep in the pit of his stomach, that one day he will come home and find maristela sitting alone on the floor of their cottage . . . or worse, the house empty entirely.
“ ‘ she greeted him in a faltering voice , and he spoke to her without knowing what he was saying … ’ drake . ” a gentle nudge in her voice , merely meaning to check on him , for he seems more than a little distracted . the book closes in her lap , finger just saving the page . it nearly misses . her attention may also be absorbed elsewhere .
morwenna’s gaze lingers even as he insists — perhaps her instinct is to chide , at least in a teasing manner , but the girl just cannot suppress her smile . “ no . not at all . ” she holds his eye a moment longer — or perhaps he holds hers . she swallows , dipping her head before her cheeks can flush . “ would you like to continue ? ”
it is his own fault for allowing his attention to wander . . . but who could help it, sitting ‘aside a creature so beautiful? as heat rises to his cheeks, he finds himself glad his complexion is too ruddy to betray him. morwenna does not need to think him sheepish, on top of distracted. ( he is a fine listener, under other circumstances --- the proof of learning still mars his skin, beltings and bruises where he could not sit still for hours on end through his father’s preachings. drake was only a slip of a lad, then ; he learned from each scar, and grew into them just as well. )
❝ ‘tis more pleasing to listen to ye, i reckon. ye’ve a far sweeter voice than mine. ❞ he searches for her gaze, but cannot find it ; in lieu of that, he finds himself accepting the book anyways. perhaps it’s a fine thing she’s looked away, or else she’d surely recognize his nerves. drake stares at the page for a moment, a swell of words nearly incomprehensible ( though he knows morwenna has chosen one of geoffrey charles’s simpler books ) before swallowing, his whole throat bobbing with the motion. ❝ where --- where were we, again? ❞
jbbartram-illu
jacobvanloon
prguitarman
blakekathryn
izzy806
gummygunk
