Truth Unseen
Trope: We're best-friends and I didn't realize I was in love with you, until I saw you with someone else.
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x GN!Reader *Used 'Mx.' In place of Miss/Mrs/Mr, etc
Warnings: A kiss at the end, but that's it!
Words: 4k
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo Bridgerton Taglist: @magravenwrites, @fandomfoodiedancer, @girl-next-door-writes, @savagejane1, @flourishandblotts-inc, @nikirennie87, @theonewithallthemilkshakes, @rach2602
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The sound of mixed conversation, music, laughter and clinking glasses filled your ears as you entered the large room. You swallowed hard, and took a deep breath, your chest tight with anxiety.
"See? Isn't it lovely?" Your mother asked as she ushered you further into the room.
"Yes. Lovely." You smiled at her, trying to subdue your anxieties.
Your first proper ball for your first proper season. You had managed to delay one year, but your parents would never allow you another year off. You had delayed as long as you could, now, you must find a spouse, much to your dismay.
As your eyes grazed over the crowds of people, you felt a rush of anxiety when you met the eyes of an approaching man. Bowing to your mother in greeting he stepped towards you.
"Well, don't you look...shiny." Benedict said, trying to hide an amused smile.
Quickly, you reached out and pinched his arm, unnoticed by anyone else. Letting out a soft gasp he smiled even wider. "Manners." He teased as he reached out his arm for you to take.
Looping your's through his, he lead you further into the room. "I don't need your incessant teasing Benedict, not tonight. I have enough I need to deal with." You attempted to sound playful, but Benedict could easily pick up on your anxiety.
Leaning his head a bit closer, he spoke softly. "You'll be fine."
You locked eyes with him, and he smiled encouragingly at you. Returning the smile, though it held mostly anxiety, you looked out into the crowd of people, wondering how many, if any, would wish to dance with you.
Benedict felt anxiety in his own chest as he saw your nervous eyes flicking around the room. He knew you had been dreading your first season, and he in turn had been anxious for you. Though, the pit in his stomach seemed unusually intense. Just because it is your first season, does not mean you will meet someone.
Maybe it wont happen. Though, surely he wanted it to? For you to meet someone you could fall in love with? Why did that thought seem to terrify him so? Was it the fear of losing his best friend? What if your marriage lead to you being whisked off far away? Yes, that was why he was anxious. He did not want to lose his friend.
"Alright. I think I best be off. I don't want to scare off all your suitors." Benedict said softly as he stepped away from you. Smiling one more time at you with an much encouragement as he could convey, he walked away, leaving you alone in the crowd.
As you watched him walk away, you felt your stomach knot. You wanted to reach out and drag him back to you. Beg him not to leave your side. But more than that, you felt pain shoot through your chest as you forced yourself to accept that those years spent waiting for him to see you as anything more than your friend was over. Time was up.
Letting out a soft breath, you looked around, meeting the smiling faces of some of your friends. Suddenly, your eyes locked with a handsome man you had never met. He smiled at you, and you felt your face grow hot. Then, he began to approach you.
Benedict let out a drawn out breath as he settled beside his brother. The further he walked away from you, the worse he felt. He convinced himself it was his protective bond over you. And an unusual guilt and fear of leaving you to the wolves in a way.
His eyes immediately looked up to find you, but you were lost in the crowd. Feeling eyes on him, he looked to his left, to see Anthony staring at him.
"What?" Benedict started.
Anthony stuck out his lip a bit and shook his head. "Nothing. How's Y/n?"
Benedict instinctively looked out at the crowd again. "Stressed."
Anthony nodded his head. "And you?"
Benedict looked over at him and furrowed his brow. "Well, I suppose I am anxious for them."
"Is that all?"
"What do you mean?" Benedict asked turning towards him.
Anthony shrugged his shoulders a bit. "I'm just wondering if that's all you feel. I expected you to feel...more, is all."
"More? More than wh-?" Benedict questioned as his eyes flicked to the crowd. Suddenly his words dies on his lips when he spotted you arm in arm with a man he did not know. You had a shy smile on your face as you moved to the dance floor with him.
Benedict watched as you began the dance. The man circled you, keeping his eyes on you in an intense stare. He said something to you, and you laughed. Benedict felt his gut clench and his chest tighten.
"Ah, Viscount Hawthorne." Anthony commented, seeing who you were dancing with.
"A Viscount?" Benedict asked. "Surely Y/n wouldn't be interested in him."
"What's wrong with a Viscount?" Anthony asked definsively.
"I just mean Y/n doesn't want a title, nor would they want the duties that come with it. Surely there is someone better they could be dancing with."
Anthony smiled as he watched his brother. "And are you going to tell Y/n that?"
"Well, no. I don't know. Maybe. If I did, I would be acting in Y/n's best interest."
"Are you sure you're not acting in yours?"
"What does that mean?"
"I just mean, maybe you don't want to let go of Y/n."
Benedict looked back at you, watching as you smiled and danced with the Viscount. He felt his heart pounding at the sight. Shrugging his shoulder a bit he looked at Anthony. "Well, I mean, who would want to watch their best friend be taken away?"
Anthony rolled his eyes and shook his head. Lightly patting his brother's shoulder, Anthony gave him a small incredulous smile before walking off, leaving Benedict confused and speechless.
Benedict found himself looking for you again. His eyes watched you as you gracefully danced among the crowd. You were by far the most attractive person there. He found himself smiling fondly at you, admiring the smile on your face. This was the first time he was seeing you dance from a distance. Usually he was the one across from you, the one smiling and talking with you while dancing.
Realizing that the song playing was different than before, he figured out you were dancing twice in a row with the Viscount. If that was so, then you must truly be interested in him.
Benedict felt his heart drop at this thought. Suddenly he thought forward in time. Seeing you less and less as you spent your days with the Viscount. Him courting you. Then you getting married. Him never getting to dance with you again. Benedict watching you smile and laugh for him instead. Watching you love another man. Another man that wasn't him.
Just then, your eyes stretched out along the room, locking with Benedict. Your eyes seemed to brighten a bit, your smile widened, just for him. Only for a moment, but he saw it. For the first time, he saw it.
'Oh.'
Benedict stared at you, his heart racing, his head spinning. The realization coming over him that what he had been feeling all this time wasn't love for a friend. It was more, it was romantic love.
Suddenly everything else flashed through his mind. The way he would seek you out in every room. How you knew all of his secrets, his dreams, and fears. And how you were never afraid to tell him yours. The sudden desire he would get to take your hand in his when you were walking together. The way his heart would race when he saw you enter a room. How happy he was when you danced together. How you could make each other laugh and smile like no one else.
How had he convinced himself that he still only saw you as a friend? When did it change? When had you become more important to him than anyone? When had he fallen so deeply for you?
Suddenly it donned on him what Anthony meant. 'Are you sure you're not acting in yours?' He was. He did not wish to drag you away from the Viscount for your own good. He wanted to do it for his. So he would not lose you. So he would not lose the love of his life.
Anthony had seen it when Benedict did not. Looking across the room, he locked eyes with his brother. Anthony's face changed as he could see the realization in Benedict's eyes, and the uncertainty. Anthony motioned his head towards you before looking back at Benedict and nodding encouragingly.
Benedict's eyes landed back on you. The song was over, another would be starting soon. You were smiling and talking to your friends, sparing a glance or two at the Viscount, who watched you closely, as though you were prey.
Benedict felt another knot of jealousy in his gut, and before he knew it, he was striding across the room. He noticed the Viscount making his way back towards you, and noted another nearby man watching you. Swiftly Benedict stepped up beside you, and your eyes shot up to meet his.
"Ben." You greeted with a smile.
Reaching out his hand he smiled at you. "Dance?"
He could see you were surprised at his actions, having thought that he would stay away from you throughout the night. Leaving only suitors to approach you. But unbeknownst to you, Benedict now saw himself as such.
Though you were surprised and a bit confused, you took Benedict's hand with a smile. You would always be ready to accept a dance with him. Though suddenly, a sad thought passed through your mind, telling you this might be one of the last.
As you began your dance with Benedict, you noted the way his eyes seemed to shine a bit differently. There was something there, that hadn't been before. His eyes never seemed to leave you, and he looked at you in a strange way. Not an unwelcome one, but it was new.
Stepping closer, your hands hovering in front of each others, faces close, you spoke softly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Benedict's smile grew a bit more as you stepped away from one another, circling with the music. With a step closer, came his answer. His voice low, but strong, his smile bright, but not teasing. "You look amazing."
Your voice caught in your throat at his compliment. He had never once complimented you like that. He had told you you looked nice, proper, elegant, or he would tease your tailored shiny clothes, or un-moving hairstyles. But never once had he said you looked "amazing" Why was he saying it now? And why did he say it like that.
He noted your loss of words, and the slight change in tint of your face, and smiled to himself. He kept his eyes locked with yours throughout the dance, relishing in the soft touches of your hands or shoulders as you crossed paths during the dance.
Every time he had danced with you before, he hadn't picked up on the electricity that ran through his skin every time you touched. But he knew there was something that always made him want to dance with you, and never stop.
Much sooner than he wanted, the song ended, and you were now standing in silence across from each other. His eyes were still steady staring into yours as he found the courage to speak again. But just as he opened his mouth, he was interrupted when your mother approached.
"Me and your father have someone we want you to meet." Sparing Benedict a smile, your mother began to drag you off before he could say anything.
As you were pulled away, you looked over your mother's shoulder, locking onto Benedict's eyes one more time before he disappeared in the crowd.
Benedict felt his courage falter as your mother took you away. She must think he was working with you to avoid suitors. And though in a way that was what he was doing, it was not for the reason she would think, or expect. For she had long since given up hope that you and Benedict would become betrothed, though the thought had many a time crossed her mind over the years.
Benedict sought you out various times throughout the night, but was thwarted each time. He suffered throughout the rest of the ball, watching as you danced with man after man, and the Viscount two more times by the end of the night.
His mind was racing the entire time, as he pleaded for the ball to end. And by the time it did, he was tormenting himself with 'what if's' and 'what now', as he saw your carriage speed off into the night before he had to chance to see you again.
Anthony must have seen, or understood what had happened, for he did not bother or question his brother. But patted him on the back as he passed.
Benedict thoughts kept him up throughout the night. He sat alone in the studio, paper and pencil in hand as he sketched his thoughts away. At his feet sat a pile of crumpled and thrown out drawings.
Ripping off another page and tossing it to the floor, Benedict sighed, looking around the room at the paintings on the walls. His eyes paused on an old painting, a portrait. As Benedict stared at it, he noticed similarities to you. The eyes were a similar color, but the shape of the face wasn't right, nor the color of the hair.
Suddenly feeling the inspiration to draw you, he began to sketch, quickly, yet precisely. He had drawn you before, when you agreed to help him study the curvature of hands, or how to properly draw a nose. But now it felt different. Your face appeared on the paper from memory, every delicate feature he didn't know he knew so well.
By the time the morning light began to fill the room, the drawing was done. He smiled at it, as he looked at the familiar profile. Every curve, every feature, every freckle or spot, directly from memory, where you lived so permanently. It was perfect. It was you.
Looking at the clock, he began to feel restless, he wanted to see you, needed to. You would be waking soon, and then you would be getting ready to meet your suitors. Rising, he looked down at his disheveled appearance before rushing to his room to change.
-----
You spent your morning watching as your mother paced in and out of the room, making notes on your appearance. Reminding you of the do's and don't's of meeting suitors. All while you sat in a silent panic, worried for what was to come. Looking out the window, your mind wandered to Benedict.
Throughout the rest of the ball the previous night, you often saw him watching you. The look in his eyes, his demeanor, it was different. Your mother even noticed and commented on it, saying he was being protective of you. You knew that could be it, but something in you told you it wasn't, that it was something more. The way he looked at you when you danced, he had never looked at you like that before.
You kept catching yourself imagining he had finally seen that you had feelings for him, causing him to feel them in return. You shunned the thought, thinking it childish. Those kind of feelings, those deep feelings that you had for him, took years to build. Surely he couldn't have suddenly developed them over night.
No, surely not. You would have to accept it. This was it. Your feelings for him would have to be pushed away. You had to accept someone else in exchange. Perhaps the Viscount? He was nice, handsome, and certainly interested in you.
Sighing you shook your head. No, it didn't matter who walked through those doors with compliments and flowers. None of them could hold a candle to Benedict.
"Are you alright Mx.?"
You looked up, seeing the reflection of your maid in the mirror, looking at you with worry. You had known her for so long, she was one of the few people who knew of your feelings toward Benedict. You even mentioned his odd behavior last night.
You smiled, and nodded. "Just nervous."
She smiled at you. "Yes, I can imagine." She paused, seemingly thinking for a moment before she spoke cautiously. "Do you think he'll come?"
You met her eyes in the reflection and then looked down, feeling an ache in your chest. "No. No I don't think he will."
-----
Benedict ran through what he was going to say as he marched down the street. His stride was long and fast, and his face must have been one of determination as people watched him past with wonder, or stepped quickly out of his path.
Walking up to your door, he let out a breath of relief as he saw he had arrived before any suitors. He knew he was far earlier than anyone was expected at the house, but he could not wait any longer.
As you sat in the sitting room, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, your mother fitted around the room with a servant, preparing for the suitors. Both of you wre surprised when the door swung open, and a visitor was announced
"It's much to early, who would come at this time?" Your mother asked only moments before Benedict appeared in the room. "Oh, Benedict." Your mother exclaimed as she let out a breath of relief. "What on Earth are you doing here so early?"
Your eyes were wide with surprise and uncertainty, waiting for his response. His eyes passed over your mother and landed on you, you saw the nervousness in his gaze, and you held your breath.
Before he could speak, your mother began to talk again. "Oh, is it that you are worried about who will come? Protective as ever. With you here, the suitors might all run off." She joked.
"That's not why I'm here." He finally spoke. "I mean, I'm not here as a friend."
"Has something happened?" Your mother asked, missing the point of his words.
You however understood them, as you stood up quickly, your heart jumping in your chest. His eyes stared past your mothers shoulder, and straight into yours.
Your mother noticed this, and turned to look at you, seeing how your eyes were locked with his. Suddenly realization crossed her features. "Oh. Oh I see. Very well then, I will step out and give you two a moment."
You stood nervously by the couch as your mother all but sprinted from the room, giving you once last glance as she closed the doors behind Benedict.
You and Benedict stood in silence, and for the first time ever, you felt awkward around him. Taking a step forward, you opened your mouth, but faltered.
Seeing that you were unsure of what to say or do, Benedict cleared his throat before reaching into his coat. "I have something for you."
You watched as he pulled out a rolled piece of parchment paper. Walking up to you, he gave it to you. Slowly, you unraveled the paper, and stared wide-eyed at the beautiful and detailed drawing of you.
"Ben, th-this is amazing." You smiled down at the drawing, and he felt his heart flutter.
"I would...like to put it down in paint some day." He said softly.
You looked up, meeting his eyes. "How long have you been working on this?"
He let out a soft chuckle. "All last night. I started it, and didn't stop until it was done."
You looked down at it again, noting the detail in every spot. You wondered how he could have done it in one night so perfectly. "Why?" You asked suddenly, looking up at him. There were so many questions all tied into that one word.
'Why now?' 'What does it mean?' 'Why are you here?'
Benedict smiled at you, it was faint, almost guilty. "Because I love you."
'As your friend' is what you expected to follow, but it didn't. And the look in hi eyes told you that was not what he meant. Your heart seemed to stop for a moment, your breath stopped, your chest clenched. This was too good to be true.
You shook you head and let out a scoff. "Don't say that."
Benedict frowned. "Why not?"
"Don't say it unless you mean it." You reiterated, your voice held a tone of desperation.
Benedict shook his head as he took a step closer to you, he was so close. You looked down at the ground, and closed your eyes in desperation as you felt him place his hands on your arms "Y/n. Look at me."
Taking a breath, you looked up, meeting his eyes. You spoke softly, afraid to speak any louder. "Please don't lie to me."
Benedict felt his heart ache in his chest. "I would never lie to you."
"If this is just some- some, ploy to get me out of having to marry someone I don't know, I, I can't handle that. You can't do that to me. Not after all this time, I've been pushing away these feelings, telling myself you could never feel the same. So don't- don't lie to me Benedict please."
Suddenly, before you could say more, Benedict pulled you forward. His lips crashed against yours, and you fell completely still. His hands cupped either side of your face as he deepened the kiss. Your mind went blank, and you felt yourself begin to give in, just as he pulled away.
Your eyes opened, and met his, as he still held your face in his hands. He whispered softly. "I'm not lying to you." He smiled reassuringly. "I was lying to myself. All these years I convinced myself what I was feeling was just friendship, but it wasn't. Last night when I saw you dancing with that Viscount, I realized I might lose you. And I was so scared of that. And then I realized why. I wasn't just scared to lose you, I was scared I was too late in realizing what I was feeling was love. I love you Y/n, I have for so long. And I am so sorry I was so blind to it. You are not just my best friend Y/n, you are the love of my life."
You felt your eyes beginning to tear up as emotion washed over you. "I was so afraid to lose you too Benedict."
Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You wont lose me, now or ever."
You smiled at him, bright and gleaming, as relief and happiness washed over you. Seeing his eyes flick to your lips once more, you both leaned in, meeting in another kiss.
You felt as though your body was blanketed in electricity as you kissed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned against him. His arms wrapped around your waist as he held you close to him.
When you finally parted, you were all smiles as you pressed your foreheads together. Hearing a knock at the door downstairs, you and Benedict shared a similar thought.
"Oh no." You muttered.
"Suitors." Benedict finished.
You both let out a soft laugh. "Do you think your mother would listen if I told her to have them sent away?"
"I guess there is one way to find out."
Smiling at you, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away. Walking away from you and towards the door, you watched as he left, sparing you a smiling glance as he disappeared. You stood in silence for a moment, looking down at the drawing of yourself.
Suddenly, from a nearby room, you heard your mother gasp, followed by a loud clap of her hands and a familiar joyous laugh. You laughed under your breath, knowing this was what she had wanted from the beginning of your friendship with Benedict. And a desire, just like you, she had begun to give up on.
xx End xx
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