![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inbox. duplicity.
Daphne Bridgerton
Please leave all correspondence here, action threads as well. While new to the game, her voice-mail message will be automated, and it may take longer than usual for her to reply to texts, videos, and phonecalls.
Daphne Bridgerton
Please leave all correspondence here, action threads as well. While new to the game, her voice-mail message will be automated, and it may take longer than usual for her to reply to texts, videos, and phonecalls.
no subject
she mirrors him as he looks down, peering directly over, head only needing to tilt slightly. every word hits her ears, feeling almost clipped and resonating even though it's not his intent. panic altering itself as her brain tries to grasp around what's happening. it does feel so much nicer, having his hand around hers, even as her heart feels so exposed and vulnerable.
she doesn't try to draw back at all, features shifting as she tries to piece together how this happened. is this...something they did at home? at school? often? is it some secret that women in the ton do not learn until they're older, wiser. it had taken her coming to duplicity to realize that same sex pairings ever even occur. didn't take her any time at all to fluidly accept that, yes, people who are in love should be together, no matter their sex or gender. but, her brother? in truth, she hasn't thought much of any of their sex lives (why would she??) she knows a former version of anthony that had been in the city got into dalliances with men as well, but not like that's her primary focus. ever. no, she tries to avoid thinking of her siblings fucking anyone, thanks.
she's left blinking, pondering the holes she recognizes but cannot find information to fill them with, when she comes back to being fully cognizant of what else anthony prompts. her lashes flutter rapidly, but she pushes their joined hands against his chest rather than pulling away. ] No.
No. Please. Do not. I... [ details are the absolute last thing that she could ever fathom hearing ] And you? Do you...feel safe with him?
[ is this how it will be, then? two old friends, akin to brothers, staying close (however that may manifest, but clearly it would be daphne's preference for them not to fuck, even if that's irrational or unfair of her, with the nature of the city.) while she's left by the wayside to look on?
her chin quakes again, her anger having abated as she looks up to anthony, meeting his eyes quite directly. ]
You have known he does not even know me really at all. [ a fact. said simply, ache thick in her tone. is that what allowed them both to engage in such activity? or, for anthony to? ] I do not know what I am to do, Anthony. I trust you speak truth, that you wish for it not to occur again [ l o l ] yet this place does not afford us the luxury of committing to promises. And...I do not know that I have ever been this... [ she makes a squeaky sound, jaw clenching ] furious with you. Bearing the idea of staying angry with you it is... [ a beat for her gaze to turn glassy, future worries mingling in ; she blinks, head shaking ] not what I desire. [ but. she's still mad. for now. there's a huff of derision from her nose. ]
Perhaps I ought not think of Simon at all, if matters to do with him cause my heart to ache... [ an impossible notion, but fuck, she wants to shove all the blame onto her duke now. better him than her own flesh and blood, no? ]
no subject
This wasn't supposed to be about him, and yet, she's asking him again to elaborate, and he is afraid that if he starts he might say too much. But he'd never been able to deny Daphne, either.
He listens to the rest of what she has to say while he formulates his thoughts. He's never been good about talking about how he feelings--truthfully, even he's not sure what all his feelings are, most of the time. His emotional growth had come to a prematurely abrupt halt, after all, but he wants to try, for her. If there is anyone he could manage that for, it is surely Daphne. ]
I do not wish to come between the two of you. He may not remember you as you are but I know how much you love each other. Perhaps...over time, here you could get to that point, again. [ Maybe even without Anthony beating up Simon in the club for whatever he'd done to her. Not that he can ask Daphne, it was clearly something that happened after they were married. She probably hadn't experienced whatever it was yet. ] I do not think a love like that is easily forgotten. Even if we wish it to be.
[ Ok, he gets that part out of the way first. The part about her. Now he has to talk about himself. He takes a deep breath and then: ]
Frankly, sister, the question of whether I feel safe with him is a complicated one. I fear the short answer might be "no," but not for the reasons one might expect. I fear he and I are like fire and gunpowder. I often find myself wanting to fight him, and let us not forget I tried to kill him. [ No, none of us are going to forget that any time soon. ] He knows me better than almost anyone, and so he sets me off in a way no one else can. And I suppose it's that same impulsiveness that contributed to what we did. I won't say more than that, but it's--
[ he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts, again. He's clumsy with them, but he's trying. He doesn't have Benedict's way with words, or Daphne's intuitiveness. ]
Sometimes it feels like it must be all extremes with him or nothing at all. [ There's something sad about the idea of it. Nothing at all. ] And that is unsafe because I know how happy the two of you are, and I do not wish to be the reason that happiness is taken from you, simply because he and I cannot keep our hands off one another.
He is my oldest friend, but you are my sister.
[ There's no mistaking the emphasis: she will always be more important. He squeezes her hand to emphasize the point. ]
Passion is fleeting. I can find someone else to be with, but I cannot replace you. The thought that I could even put you at risk... [ he trails off and shakes his head ] No, I don't feel the same safety Hastings does.
no subject
she listens. truly and with her entire heart, jaw clenching a few times when she wills her lips and chin to stop quivering. it surely would be something, wouldn't it, if she and simon could come to any place that resembles the life she knows they should have.
her comments about setting her affections for simon to the side had been, perhaps, melodramatic but sincere. questioning anthony to determine any logic for why he has done what he has, well, that feels like the easier option than dwelling on her love for a man who barely knows her...
her brows furrow as he explains, a soft swallow as anthony rounds back to what she means to him. it is not so easy a thing, for her intuition to flourish when her heart aches.
her lashes flutter down when he speaks those final words, a clearing of her throat sounding as she squeezes both of his hands, her teary eyes meeting his. a genuine smile lifts on her lips.]
We could never be rid of one another, Anthony, and I would have it no other way. It is...precarious, being in this city. Any...safe, familiar feeling, it should not be taken for granted. [ god, she wants every single answer, every single reason that they'd fall so easily and quickly into one another's arms and beds, but she can only reach and wonder for so long. ] It seems you are...a class above even being brothers, then. Friends who bring out the best and the worst in one another.
You shall never have to question my loyalty to you, brother. I...I love you, regardless of anything else. [ how could she feel otherwise? she breathes out, melancholy hold on her features. ] I promise.
no subject
It is more than he deserves. God, what was he thinking, when he'd given into Simon? He'd protested, he'd known, and he'd still said yes. He'd still let Simon convince him that they needed to do it. Some part of him wants to paint Simon as a villain, in the way he'd suggested, but he knows better than that. It wouldn't be right to seek absolution through lies.
A class above even being brothers, then. What a strange way to phrase it. It hints at the dangerous thing he has not yet realized for himself, but that he will start to realize before long, these budding feelings in his chest, the desire he holds for Simon, which is a far worse betrayal of Daphne than the sex itself. So much so, that he has not allowed himself to even consider it. Between that and the fact that any feelings he would have for Simon would never be meaningful back home, it is far from his mind. But her words do hint at it. They do spark....something, the barest recognition. Only enough to think how strange they are, how like love they sound. But, no, of course not.
Of course not.
That is, of course, the real reason his words don't feel sufficient to her, and also why he cannot properly answer her. She has ever been intuitive, she must feel this thing that he does not know how to name, though she obviously does not know how to name it either. The two of them, moreso than anyone else in their family, are so devoted to their duties, they understand the parameters of society and its obligations. Anthony may break the rules with the way he fucks around, but he knows them and he intends (eventually) to follow them. And so, how could either of them name something that is impossible? How could either of them realize?
But naturally it makes his actual excuses--convenience, familiarity--seem hollow. That is an impossible situation of its own. He does not mean to lie. He does not think he is lying. Neither of them would believe the truth. So there are no good answers, no right answers, no way to ease Daphne's fears. They are not unfounded. And even in this, where they are stumbling around the truth, both completely blind to the reality, she is still smarter than he is. She has always understood emotions better.
With only the barest recognition (so bare, it could hardly be called that) at the issue lurking under her words regarding his relationship with Simon, he does not know how to respond. She is right, she must be right. There is nothing he can say that might change that.
Anthony thinks perhaps that will be all. She has promised they will not be rid of each other and, again, he feels grateful beyond measure, undeserving and yet nevertheless the recipient of her grace. He is so lucky, so truly blessed to have her in his life.
He is so certain that is all she will say, so certain that is it, that when she tells him she loves him, a sentiment generally expressed through actions in their home and not through words, his heart nearly breaks again, but in a different way entirely. The way she says it with that melancholy expression is nearly painful, knowing he is the cause, and yet also so warmed to know she does still love him.
She still loves him.
He can feel himself on the precipice of truly falling apart. The way his muscles tense, the heat rising to his face. His throat tightens and tears well in his eyes, and all he can think is that he cannot do that to her, he cannot show her, the same admonition that their mother had given him ten years ago, when he'd had to swallow his grief and stay strong for his siblings.
He lets go of her hands so he can pull her into a hug, holding her against his chest so she won't see, so she doesn't have to watch him fall to pieces over something so simple, something he should know, something he does know. If he knows, why does it hurt so much to hear it? If he knows, why is it so hard to face? His heart races and the tears threaten to fall but he practically begs them not to, pleading with himself to keep it together for her. ]
Thank you. [ Soft, because he is not sure he can manage to speak any louder, without it being obvious. Because he is not sure how much he can say before his feelings betray him. ] I love you, too, sister. I truly am sorry.