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busted | benedict bridgerton

summary: benedict is sure he knows you, he only doesn’t know from where. and he probably shouldn’t know.

warnings: none actually!

It’s the curve on your lips when you drink from your cup, Benedict has solved the case. Or the wrinkles around your eyes when you start to laugh, it might be it too. But there’s something in you that seems to hold his attention longer than he imagined and it has been like this the whole night.

Now he knows every and each small thing you do when you react to something, he caught you blinking to a couple of men, making it look way more innocent than it was to them. Benedict saw your eyes twinkle under the lights while dancing and couldn’t stop thinking about how soft your hands might be under your gloves.

He couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that seemed so known to him that it itched a certain part of his brain trying to remember why he was so mesmerized by you. Why were you so intriguing to him when he’s absolutely sure he never saw you before.

“Here, let me help you.” Eloise says, holding Benedict’s chin with both her hands “I think your chin will fall anytime soon.”

Benedict’s eyes go from you to his sister, surprised by her sudden appearance next to him. Eloise lets out a laugh, taking her hands away from her brother and crossing her arms in front of her chest, glancing in your direction too.

“Who is she and why are you so endearing looking at her?” Eloise squints, trying to analyze you “I don’t think I know her…”

“Me neither.” The sound falls from Benedict’s mouth more like a whisper and he sighs afterwards “And I’m not endearing looking at her.”

“Brother,” Eloise almost rolls her eyes at Benedict, but controls herself from doing so in front of so many people. If the circumstances were different, she would do it one hundred percent “your eyes are on her the whole night. I have no clue how I managed to get your attention, actually.”

Eloise continues to talk and talk and talk, but you start to dance again. Benedict watches you spin in your ankles while smiling to your dance partner, your hands smoothly moving while you dance. Your hair flows around your face, framing it with curls. You probably smell good, floral and sweet with a spicy hint to it. Your skin glows and looks soft to the touch.

“Jesus Christ,” Eloise almost shouts, catching her brother’s attention again “ask her to dance, or you will start drooling any time soon and someone might slip on it.”

For once, Eloise is right. Benedict should ask to dance with you. There’s nothing telling him he shouldn’t, and a dance won’t hurt no one.

He makes the path between you two, taking his time to gather his thoughts correctly and think about what he should say to you. What kind of subjects are you interested in? You could be into arts, writing or even singing. You have beautiful lips, and even if Benedict couldn’t listen to your voice from where he was standing, he's sure your voice is soothing as it seems from afar.

Benedict bows in front of you and notices the corners of your lips going up in a small smile “Would you conceive me a dance with you, my lady?”

You bow in his direction too, but gracefully looking at him with your chin up “Of course, sir.” You place your hand on his, waiting for him to hold it “Lead me, please.”

Benedict holds your hand, almost squeezing it with too much strength, but he desperately wants to feel the skin underneath your glove. Your thumb rubs the back of his hand smoothly and the gentle touch makes Benedict want more caresses from you. Perhaps you didn’t even notice you were doing that little thing with your thumb, but Benedict feels feverish with just this small thing.

He takes you in his arms and starts dancing.

“May I ask you if you’re new here?” Benedict starts, really wanting to say something to you and make some conversation.

“Probably.” You smile, not giving away if you’re telling the truth or not.

Benedict scrunchies his nose “I’m curious, because I’ve never seen you before, but I feel as if I already know you.”

You let out a giggle and Benedict is completely lost, has he said anything funny?

“Is this your way of courting me?” Your expression has an amused smile and Benedict can’t help but find it funny too. It indeed sounded different than he wanted it too “Perhaps you’ve seen me in your dreams, right?”

“N-No… That’s not what I was trying to say.” He stutters trying to hold a laugh and not sound as dumb as he probably does at the moment “I mean it, you look familiar but I can’t tell from where exactly.”

“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m sure I’ve never crossed paths with you before.” You give up and say it seriously “I’ve been in town for a couple of days visiting my aunt for the season.”

“And may I ask who your aunt is?” Benedict is fast with his words, not leaving any time for you to end your conversation.

Benedict tries to notice something in you that might give it away who your aunt is, but it doesn’t work. Your accent is a bit different than what he’s used to, but he can’t tell exactly from where you are. Your eyes are beautiful, as are your skin, lips, nose, body… Benedict can’t think of anyone anyway as attractive to him as you.

“It seems that you’re having fun trying to solve my mystery. I think we should keep it for longer.”

“My mom knows everyone, every family, and she probably has her eyes on you, anyways. You seem like a good match for one of her sons.” Benedict spins you while speaking.

It’s already the end of the dance, the final move and Benedict wonders if he could ask you for another dance, or maybe he could walk with you to get something to drink. He wanted to speak more with you, to look deep inside your eyes, to listen to your voice and watch your lips move gracefully.

When you finish your spin, you look right back at Benedict “So let’s see if you can discover who I am, Mr. Bridgerton.”

You grin in his direction, so close he can see every line in your face. And it hits him – your grin. He indeed saw it before, not in his dreams, but in a place where a lady shouldn’t be, somewhere he’s not even sure women are allowed to enter when they’re not in the company of a man. But you were there, he’s sure of it now.

Benedict’s memory is foggy, probably because he was way drunker than normal that night, but there’s no doubt it was you.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Benedict asks when you touch his arm calling for his attention “In the bar?”

There’s a frown that grows in your forehead and you almost open your mouth, surprised, but keep control of your expression. Benedict continues to stare in your direction and catches your arm before you could run away from him. You felt like running away, but instead you gave him a sweet smile.

“Sir, I don’t know what you mean.”

Your voice shakes a bit and Benedict can notice that you’re not telling the truth, because even if you don’t sound nervous, you obviously look like you’re about to have a nervous wreck right there. Your hands are moving, making Benedict hold your arm and start to lead him out of the middle of the room. Your fingers are restless around his arm and he could feel you tapping his forearm with them.

“I know it was you, now I’m sure of it.” Benedict can say, trying to grab other memories inside his mind from that night “I could recognize this grin of yours within millions of smiles.”

It happened the week before. Benedict decided to go to the bar alone, after a long day of boring things and a couple of drinks with his gentleman friends, he didn’t want to go home yet. It was breezy, but not cold, so the perfect night to spend in the bar with unknown people he will never exchange a word with again.

When he’s near the bar, he can hear people singing inside and instruments are being played. He enters the room and everyone is singing together, some at their own tables, others hugged next to the musicians. But there’s two young adults, probably a few years younger than Benedict, singing on top of the balcony leading the rest.

One of them is wearing a white shirt, trousers and really shining and beautiful boots. The other is wearing the same thing, but with a dark blue cape on top, covering most part of their face. Benedict sits at a table in one corner of the bar, he pretends to go unnoticed and enjoys the joyful singing from the others. He orders a beer and continues to drink, even if he already feels drunk enough after drinking with his friends.

The light inside the bar isn’t good, but when the person wearing the cape spins while singing, Benedict can see a grin on their lips, the curves softly matching the rest of the person’s expression, and when Benedict watches more carefully, the grinning person is a girl. He can see the soft hair under the hood, the pretty features in her face and the beautiful silhouette.

Benedict can’t take his eyes from her, the way she sings is mesmerizing, the way she drinks the beer from the mug and continues to move around the balcony with her partner. Benedict tries not to focus on the questions that are surfacing his mind, about why there is a girl there and who is the man singing with her. Benedict wants to enjoy the view, his members already feeling numb from drinking but he can’t help having fun.

“Sir, please, stop talking about this.” You ask, now almost running with Benedict hooked with your arm “At least not in the middle of everyone.”

You search for someone in the middle of the people, your eyes wandering through every corner of the room. Benedict wanted to ask you again who you are in the end. Why were in a bar being a lady? Who was the guy with you that night? Why hasn't he seen you before?

One of the questions was answered before Benedict could even say them out loud.

“Mr. Bridgerton, this is my brother.” You almost fly to the man standing in front of you two and hold his arm instead of Benedict’s. It’s the guy you were with in the bar “Brother, this is Benedict Bridgerton, he just danced with me.”

Your brother looks at you, noticing your breathless voice as you introduce Benedict to him. He looks back at Benedict and smiles, greeting him. As soon as Benedict said nice to meet you, you both disappeared in the middle of the other guests. How was it possible for two grown people to just vanish in front of his eyes? But you two were nowhere to be seen.

Benedict felt empty for the first time that night. He spent most of the night watching you, trying to guess where he saw you before and now he knows where, but you’re gone and he has nothing else to do there. He wanted to speak to you more, maybe the bar issue wasn’t the only conversation he wanted to have with you, his curiosity about you being bigger than he imagined.

He wanted to know things about you.

Well, now he knows you can sing. And drink.

And there’s nothing he can’t try to discover in the next ball of the season.