& she, bitter strawberries planted BY HUNGRY mouths ; inedible, decayed. her mother begged her ; play the part of coy ( a woman who knew little of anything but craving love & a desire to please every whim ). lydia was chaos & it’s true that CHAOS BLEEDS. it bled into her siblings ; entitled, selfish & bred far too well to hold much sympathy for those without money. this IS ERSATZ of her own ( a hand dealt for her fathers benefit ) ; not wisdom she hoped to impart nor encourage. you are most flawed, unearned of yourself when you are without dreams unmade by money & people should not throw stones in glass houses.
the evening ; PLAY PRETEND for adults who knew nothing of reality but only the grimacing smiles they gave to others & bridges lined with GUNPOWDER simply designed for the eventual burn. ❛ i’m just going to step outside. i feel faint from HIS CHARM. ❜ a mother knows her daughters lies ( caustic as she knows she is ) but bows as gracious hostess. her father barely glances up. you are SELDOM loved by creatures for they’ve learned only that love is no commodity, it does not earn, it cannot be sold ; what use is such a thing to the self-made? it’s a weakness. siblings & mother were addled with this humanity OF ROT her father was not. an ethos of family unity made for business.
auburn-copper framed sharp edges cherry undertone in the exchange from candlelight to the dusk of winter. EBONY SILK draped her shoulders, spanning out against the ridge of her collar bones, diaphanous lit on ivory ; dawning against embonpoint & falling just. she glides the flagstones & settles against the fountain ; full lips remained a simpering lie. she’s taken aback by the voice, sylphlike fingers idly entangled in tresses, VIRESCENT EYES caught, bewildered & reaping an offence at the language. ❛ excuse me? this is our families party. surely you should know that? i suppose that then begs the question of who are you? ❜ she knows she would have remembered his face ; handsome & certainly closer to her own age. ❛ could i borrow a light? ❜ dulcet tones felled MORE DELIGHTFUL, fingertips delved deftly into her cleavage to retrieve a slim line silver case ; gaze fixed, curious & observant. she plucks one from inside before stowing THE SILVER away, pressed between her lips & hand openly extended to him. the red stains of her lips stark against the white ; kin as the crimson of her dress & ivory expanse of flesh.
a thousand curses may ricochet within an iron-plated mind as realisation sets in like a FEVER. it is contained within her bearing, he understands now as true observation is offered her gilded bones, cobalt hues plucking from her flesh the pointed kind of allure the upper class have always possessed. there is something refined in her spine. he thinks it alien. embarrassment threads, scarlet, across the bleached canvas of his cheekbones, & he turns his gaze outward, searching for something to say that may ensure he does not lose himself the golden sum promised him for his services. she queries for his name & he is RELUCTANT in telling it, the words dragged from behind his teeth involuntarily as he seeks out her gaze with his own. ❛ bucky. ❜ & then, a second later, hesitance stringing his heart from his chest, ❛ barnes. i--- ❜ teeth clamp shut momentarily. ❛ didn’t recognise you. ❜ a minor lie, he placates himself, for how shall she know him for a KITCHEN BOY when he could so-easily be a guest ?? a hand drags through a head of d u s k, another inhale from his cigarette burning a path down his trachea, & out of the corner of his eye he studies the brilliant carmine of her hair, the feather-like waif of her moon-white limbs, the turn of her hues upon him.
her inquiry spurs digits into action, disappearing to the knuckle within his pocket & plucking free from its fabric cage a box of matches, which he offers her on a calloused palm. his lips tease from a cigarette another mouthful of smoke, which coils around his uvula to brush, scorching, against the lining of his lungs, & he considers the truth she had supplied with a furrowed brow. HER FAMILY’S PARTY. perhaps a wave of something akin to irritation shall pass through him then, the very richness of her --- the finery that cloaks her with a thousand things he himself could never buy, never touch --- contrasting so dearly with the ( scuffed ) shoes he now inspects with a suspicious amount of interest that it almost aches. inside whirls a world he catches only in glimpses, & in this moment where such polar opposites occupy the same space, breathe the same fresh, chilled air, he finds himself almost wishing to retreat inwards --- some quieter, more secretive part of himself whispers go away, go away. he stands firm instead, body unchanged by the notion that dissolves in the back of his head, torn asunder by PRIDE & STUBBORNNESS.
blakekathryn
ellievsbear
snowghoul
dailybridgerton
gracieabrams
romaincrisis
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
theartofmadeline
