shame, really. benedict has had his fill of lemonade, hopes for something stronger, and yet he could not escape the ravenous mamas and dagger like stares coming from every direction. oh, he didn't mind a ball too much. honestly, a party was a party, and the second born bridgerton did so enjoy having a good time. the problem was that he would rather have that good time elsewhere. perhaps at the club, drinking stronger stuff, or even back at home — at least there he could sneak into the kitchens and steal a biscuit or two. 'i'm surprised cressida cowper hasn't feigned exhaustion yet and fainted onto the dance floor. surely we're overdue for some sort of dramatics tonight,' benedict chuckles a bit, though he takes a double glance to his right when he realizes he wasn't alone. startled, benedict stands a bit straighter, embarrassed grin landing on his lips. 'forgive me, i thought i was murmuring into the void,' @avilionea / random muse sc.