𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 ʟᴜᴄɪᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs ʟɪᴋᴇ 𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽𝔂. . . ᴛʜᴇ 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 ғʟɪᴇs ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍᴇ. . . ➵ #BridgertonRP | MC | 21+ ➵ SLs & Banter ➵ Penned by #ℳᴀʀᴛʏʀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀↺ & ♡

Glaring daggers at her. Why did she have to be so 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥? "... And to you, Kate."

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ‧₊˚ ⠀. . . 𝑩𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑻 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑻𝑶𝑵 !! ㅤㅤ𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘦. ㅤㅤㅤ

Anthony exhaled deeply. "I hate to be restless. Perhaps I should go to the office for a while." Though the thought alone sounded draining. He sighed again.

Are the floral arrangements truly better conversationalists?

"It can be any less healthy than just 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 here, staring at the ceiling." He sat up, shuffling to rest his back against the headboard. Towards his wife, Anthony tilted his head. "If I say yes, will you come and join me after?"

Nothing but his own mind and certain, unwanted memories.

"You make a valid point." His mouth twitched, a smirk curling his lips. "I promise I shall stay put in this bed so long as you join me. How does that proposition sound?"

Her hand was quickly covered with his own. Gently, he squeezed. Real. She was 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑳. She was there, with him. It was 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺. Anthony released a shaky breath. "The month of May has always been... hard."

He cherished her touch, however brief it was. The thought of catching her in his arms and pulling her under the covers there and then did cross his mind, but Anthony did not give in to the temptation. "Do not rush. I doubt sleep will visit me anytime soon, my love."

He remains unconvinced, though that is probably unsurprising. Still, he knew better than to question Kate; if she claimed it to be so then who was Anthony to argue?

He did. Anthony pulled her closer to him. "You light up my life in ways I did not know were possible."

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, 𝑽𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒐𝒏." His lips met her forehead in a soft, swift kiss. The teasing worked — it always worked — and Anthony's sorrow had begun to subside.

"As your husband it is my prerogative to worry." Anthony clasped her hand, intertwining their fingers together and squeezing gently. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to the soft skin of her wrist. "You would tell me if there was something wrong?"

A little groan was released, though he was only feigning his annoyance. "Will I regret asking? Go on, what is your suggestion?"

He is very wise... most of the time. And does she have a preference? Which flower speaks to her the most? Or does she not disfavour one over the others?

It is a 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 morning for a ride.