To Paint With Shadows | Benedict Bridgerton

Those Who Play With Fire...

There was a beauty in the way the moon looked in the sky. It's stark light cutting through the darkness of the night. Sophie gazed up at it from her place at the large bay window: hoping with every second that her eyes lingered upon it, that it may bathe her in the same calming wash.
A sleepy groan was heard behind her, yet she did not acknowledge it: to consumed by her thoughts.
'Why are you never where I want you?' Benedict asked sleepy; his voice a rich husk.
Sophie turned her head offering him a melancholy smile, as he gazed up at her from his place on the library floor.
'My body works against me,' she stated flatly, as she did Benedict rose, taking a seat next to her legs, his back facing the window. 'It wants to do anything but sleep.'
'Well that situation is easily rectified.' He began softly, pushing her knees down as he leaned over her: his body now resting on top of hers, his lips inching closer to her mouth. 'There are plenty of other things we may do.' He whispered alluringly; his eyes bearing a playful glint as they found hers, his hands finding their way to her back, his touch as gentle as the kiss that he placed to her lips.
He hesitated, however, when her hands remained by her sides, and a sadness continued swimming laps of her dark eyes.
'I believe that would only make to matter worse.' Sophie whispered, trying to lace her retort with an all too familiar teasing tone, but falling short.
The flirtatious look on Benedict's face, moulded into one of unbridled concern, his eyes darting to every corner of her face, as a realisation dawned on him.
'It is your heart?' He asked panicky; quickly falling back onto his knees: worrying that the weight of his body may cause her greater harm.
'Do not worry yourself. It is nothing unfamiliar.' She defended.
Trying to reassure him, as she fought to grip his body and arms, so that he did not travel too far from her.
Benedict furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. 'Of course I am to worry.' Her argued, yet his tone remained soothing, 'Is there something troubling you?.' He queried, the fear yet to leave his voice.
Sophie dropped her gaze, sighing as she toyed with his fingers.
She swallowed the lump in her throat: daring to look Benedict in the eyes again. 'I fear someone finding out about us.' She voiced, 'This is beginning to feel too natural, too easy.' She added, her voice growing in pace.
Benedict nodded in understanding, his gaze dropping with a similar resignation.
'I know.' He muttered,'And the last thing I want is for you to be put in jeopardy because of it.'
He took a breath, his eyes once again meeting hers, 'But we have been careful, Sophie: we do not meet in our chambers, I try to shorten the length of my gazes, but you must know it is impossible.' Frustration filling his final statement, 'Given the chance, I would spend my entire day staring at you...watching you.'
'But it cannot be.' Sophie reminded him, yet it sounded more like a pleading cry.
'No.' Benedict mumbled, a true misery to his tone.
'Oh.' Sophie exclaimed faintly, her eyes closing as they fought to hold back her tears, 'You do not understand the feeling that comes over whenever I see you entering the room,'she said clasping his hand in hers, 'Thoughts of you plaguing my every dream.'
Benedict wiped a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb, his fingers then travelling to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
'Do you want this to end?' He asked faintly, yet directly, 'Because if that is what you wish I will fight every fibre of my being, to allow you that.
Sophie sighed shakily, trapped in the warmth and compassion of his gaze. 'No...' she whispered, 'I fear I may never want it to stop.'
As she finished speaking Benedict forcefully brought his lips to hers: the both of them quickly becoming consumed in a kiss of passion. Yet, passion was not the only emotion that fuelled it: in amongst the emotion was a desperation, a longing and vulnerability, a feeling the both of them had become so good at sequestering away. A feeling so hidden, that they could not even see it themselves.

As they both pulled away from the kiss, Sophie allowed her eyes to remain closed for a moment longer: relishing the feeling of his lips on hers. Meanwhile a soft thumb caressed her cheek. 'I have an idea.' Benedict spoke, causing Sophie to force her eyes open.
'What?' She asked softly, bemused by the earnest of his tone.
'Come with me.' He instructed her, standing to locate his shirt on the library floor; Sophie watched him slide it over his head, the flexing of his back muscles all but rendering her incapacitated.
'Come on.' Benedict whispered, a soppy smile on his face, having caught her staring.
Sophie remained entirely confused as Benedict led her quietly out of the library, and onto the lawn.
'Benedict?' Sophie queried, halting as he continued on in front.
'If we cannot sleep.' He began, arriving at the basket of pall-mall mallets, and drawing one out, 'We will play.' He announced, not a hint of sarcasm to his tone.
'Are you quite well?' Sophie asked incredulously, nearing him, 'It is the dead of night, and I do not know how to play.
'I shall teach.' He stated simply, handing her a mallet, 'With the moonlight as our guide.' Once again the dramatic flair returning to his voice.
'You are a lunatic.' Sophie stated, slowing increasing the distance between the two of them, 'Your thoughts crazed.' She chortled.
Noticing her movement, Benedict allowed a sinister smirk to crawl upon his face; quickly he lunged at her, Sophie tried to flee, but it was too late, she squealed as his arms gripped her waist. Panic set in as she realised the volume of her voice, she swiftly brought a hand to her mouth. As he chucked, Benedict's right arm gripped her left shoulder, restricting her from moving away from him again. The other looped around her waist, drawing her back closer to his body.
'That is because you make them so.' Benedict growled against her neck. The warmth of his breath was followed by a series of lingering kisses.
Once her felt her relax into his arms, he stopped: 'Are we to play?' He teased smiling.
'I suppose.' She answered hesitantly, 'Only if you are not to mock me.'
'I would not dream of it.' He spoke gently, candour to his tone.
'If you say so, Preener.' Sophie retorted, releasing herself from his grasp, and making her way towards the first wicket.
'Ladies first.' She goaded, gesturing towards him.
He shook his head, stifling as smile as he bit his lip. He lined himself up, delivering a perfect shot through the wicket. He did not hide the pride upon his face, as he look back at Sophie; her mouth agape.
'See, I do not understand how one does that.' She mumbled, as she positioned her mallet, only to miss the ball completely.
She sighed in annoyance.
'May I?' Benedict queried, as he approached her, gesturing to stance.
'Like you need ask.' Sophie stated, a tinge of frustration lingering on her words.
Gently Benedict gripped her hips, encouraging her to rotate her feet, his hands then landing on her shoulders, as he shook them softly, finally his hands wandered to hers, his body enveloping hers, as he positioned her grip correctly.
'Like this.' He whispered, holding her hands in place as he swung the mallet.
'Was this all just a ruse for you to touch me?' Sophie interjected teasingly.
'Perhaps.' Benedict answered as he moved her hair, so it no longer obscured his view of her face.
'Leave me. You are distracting.' Sophie scolded, pushing his chest away.
He chuckled once again.
She readied herself, remaining how he had positioned her, as she took a breath.
With a thwack, the mallet struck the ball, causing it to fly just left of the wicket.
She gasped.
'I did it!' She whispered, 'I did it!' She exclaimed, jumping on the spot. Then she turned to face Benedict, he too joined her in the enthusiasm, hopping over to her goofily.
She giggled at his actions.
'Did you see? I hit it!' She told him, as if he had not just watched her, 'I mean I did miss the wicket... but I hit the ball!' She added quickly.
'We will make a winner of you yet.' Benedict told her, placing a hand on either side of her face.
He kissed her gently, before let her go so he may admire her.
As she stood beaming up at him, there was something about the way the moonlight struck her face; washing in her in a light, that made her glow with a divinity.
Yet that vision, caused another the appear in his mind...
The woman in silver, who he had seen all those weeks ago: upon Sophie's arrival, he had not spared her a single thought, yet now she haunted him once again.