#lizzyelmsworth

[griefseason]

 ❛     sorry  ,  i  wasn't  looking  where  i  was  going  ----     ❜       the  soprano  is  near  tears  when  she  ran  headlong  into  @lizzyelmsworth.       it  is  almost  show  time  –  she  needs  to  fix  her  makeup.      if  her  eyes  are  watering  ,  it  will  ruin  her  powder.        she  wouldn't  care  were  she  not  meant  for  the  stage  in  forty-five  minutes.          her  job  is  one  thing  she  cannot  forfeit.          no  ,  it  is  hardly  a  job  –  her  body  makes  the  money  when  men  pay  to  sleep  with  her  ,  but  her  voice  ?       that  is  where  siena's  passion  lies.       an  opera  singer  is  nothing  without  it  ;  the  strain  from  crying  is  the  last  thing  she  needs  right  now.      if  she  loses  the  job  because  of  unsavory  performances  ,  she'll  be  reduced  to  a  simple  working  girl  pawning  herself  off.       that  as  a  measure  to  allow  her  time  to  sing  is  one  thing  ,  but  to  do  so  full  time  ?       she'd  rather  die.       

&*  to  top  it  off  --------  she's  gone  &*  spilled  champagne  on  some  girl  in  a  nice  dress.        certainly  someone  from  the  audience  waiting  to  see  her  perform.        that  dress  is  nicer  than  anything  siena  could  take  away  from  her  dressing  room.      she  doesn't  know  what  to  say  other  than  her  apology  -------  what  can  she  do  ?        first  anthony  ,  now  this  --------  a  tired  laugh  leaves  her  in  her  misery.      ❛     . . .     at  least  the  champagne  is  clear  ?    ❜

[awynter]

you weren't supposed to hear that.

"I heard nothing, ma'am." Offering a weak smile, Anne added, "And even if I did, my lips are sealed. It is not my place to share secrets."

[candiceborgia]

[paperlorearchive]

"do you feel better?" / for : conchita closson.

the words bring her to a halt, chocolate hues avoiding her old friend's features as a sigh escapes ruby lips. she does not feel better. in fact, she feels much worse. the lie from the day before swirling around her stomach. i cannot come to have tea with you, lizzy, minnie and i are sick. when in fact, they were both the picture of health. but she had been avoiding the elmsworths recently, a result of their matriarch's request. find a match for mabel. sweet, unique, and loud mabel. yet conchita had said yes. why had she said yes? the pressure of being a marable now, a mother, a lady and the head of a household nonetheless, it had all gotten to her. conchita had become desperate. but their friendship was supposed to mean more than that. and still... she turns around, gaze seeking @lizzyelmsworth's. ❝ much better. i suppose it was one of those 24 hours things going around. ❞ and now she had turned into someone who lied to her closest friends. what would become of her next? ❝ how are the wedding preparations? have you decided on a dress yet? ❞

prompts tag / always accepting.

[awynter]

@lizzyelmsworth sent 📚 for a literature quote starter ⤷ from cotillion by georgette heyer

"Oh, I should like so much to be extravagant." Anne confessed with a sigh. "But if I cannot have such a thing for myself, I will settle for living vicariously through you."

[greatestmatch]

*   starter call,   @lizzyelmsworth.

the duke is standing in the balcony of tintagel castle.   it is nightfall,   &   his home has fallen silent as everyone around him is sound asleep,  or so he thinks.   a couple of his servants had offered him tea just an hour prior,  insisting they stay awake with him should he need anything,  but he was quick to deny their services   &   told them they should rest.   he wants the quiet,  the peace it holds,  because when everything's dark   &   he's left to watch over his castle,  the  ache  doesn't seem to present itself the way it does when he wakes up alone   &   receives pitying looks from those he comes across.

he hears movement to his left,  causing his head to turn toward the direction.   lizzy approaches him,   &   he can't seem to stop the smile that cracks through his typical pensive exterior.     ❝  having trouble sleeping?  ❞   he asks as his body turns fully toward her,  giving her his full attention.     ❝  some of the servants might still be awake to make you a cup of tea,  should you like one.  ❞

[dovaeh]

❛   comb .   comb  fingers  through  my  muse’s  hair .

loud & deafening silence. accepting.

there's just too much of it sometimes.  it was easier when she was little and her mother would have her sit on the floor in front of the couch,  brushing it out while she watched cartoons, spinning it into pretty braids before church.  as she's gotten older and busier and more tired of life,  her hair slips her mind sometimes.  she has a hairbrush buried in the center console for the days she flies out of the apartment with a messy bramble of hair,  the first thing forgotten on a bad morning.

lizzy is lucky it isn't one of those days,  hair already detangled and still smooth,  no snags to be found when her fingers disappear into the sea of brown,  no dramatics to be had.  instead maesena sighs and leans instinctively toward the warmth of the touch,  turning to her with big eyes and raised brows,  her movements so slight to not discourage the attention. 

"are you trying to put me to sleep?"  it wouldn't take all that long if she laid her head down,  which is tempting to do with the press of fingertips to her scalp before they disappear back down.  mae grins when she comes back up,  raising her chin and lolling her head into lizzy's hand before she can escape.  lucky though she may be,  nobody can escape maesena's dramatics for long.  "'cause it's working."

[greatestmatch]

@lizzyelmsworth :   ❛ show me all the parts of you that you don't love so i know where to begin . ❜

For a while, Theo's felt like a sailor lost at sea,   surrounded by nothing but rough waves and dark, stormy skies.   His mind and heart are torn between two things:   what's good and right for his title, and what he wants as nothing more than an artist who yearns.   Lizzy comes to him like a  lighthouse,  illuminating the sky, guiding him to stable ground.   He's grateful for her, for all the things she represents in his life, the goodness she brings.   How could anyone not love her?

He takes her hands in his carefully, gaze focused on lithe fingers as he lets out a soft chuckle.   He brings her digits to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss on  her  knuckles as blue irises rise to meet her warm gaze.   “  How long do you have?   I'm afraid we'll be here all night.  ”