𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 - 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚗

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢

Sweden

Eric snatched the letter from the servant's hand, suddenly completely sobered up, and made his eyes race over the written loopy letters that formed the secret gossip. He recognised it as his youngest daughter's hand. He shooed away the servant and one of his mistresses after he had emptied her of him. His eyes were still a fastened blur, but as his eyes dragged continuously over the written ink, the reality started to form.

He reached over for one of the glasses that stood half full of addicting but poisoning drink, held his head back and downed the rest of its' remnants, he hummed thankfully before pushing himself out of the room through the doorway.

He stumbled down a hallway, ignoring the glances and downright stares of intrusive and judgy servants, he sneered at them in response as he walked down further, his vision blurring more as he did so. He found himself in front of a wooden door that concealed his wife and her irksome and vexing sobs and cries, he didn't bother knocking, knowing she didn't have anything actual to be doing and would be weeping in her own solitude.

As the door whacked into the wooden frame of a wall, his wife's hand quickly brushed at her face, coating it in worn tears before wiping away any evidence on the hem of her dress leaving a darkening stain on the dress, Eric watched all of that unfold whilst wishing that when he had lugged himself in here, that he would've been wise enough to bring some alcohol in hand with him. He groaned before swallowing what was left of his ruined pride and starting to talk to his wife on the discussion of their only surviving children.

"Florence is supposedly engaged," Eric started, well more so grumbled out the words but he saw his wife hanging on to his words as if they would be a last day confession, waving the written letter abruptly. His wife's face twisted and she stumbled to get up, though eventually managed it, walking over to her distant husband with a creased dress and her eyes haunted by purpled eye bags, and her cheeks reddened by spilt tears that caused swelling. She snatched the letter from his hand and read over the same thing he did previously, her eyes scanned furiously, and her husband observed her pupils shrink as she read further along the ink.

"Eléanore," Eric whispered, but his wife paid him no attention.

"Skit (shit/crap),"was all Eléanore said and well it summed up their reactions evenly.

•

Benedict had recently decided to face his family and so that left Florence with alot of free time, and the anxieties of a wedding to plan didn't seem ideal so she opted for some peaceful time.

She found casual and relaxation under the sunshine, it beamed at her, blinding her before highlighting multicoloured specks in her eyes. The heat was annoying and too humid for her, even in contrast with her own Swedish weather.

She was lounging around on a long sofa when her sister appeared close to her, she let out a small murmur of a curse before allowing herself to talk to Viktoria.

"Should you not be planning a wedding, rather than just being here?" Viktoria asked, Florence didn't pay her much attention because Viktoria eventually joined her under the sun's glowing rays.

"Benedict is not here, and I do not want to mess anything up to cause a failed marriage already!" Florence exclaimed, whilst dramatically holding her arm over her eyes, guarding them from her sister's watchful stares.

"Is Mamma and Pappa invited?" Viktoria asks, she doesn't look over at Florence and it's as if her sister knows she isn't. Florence's arm falls flatly at her chest rather than guarding her eyes, and she squints her eyes at her younger sister, watching her but Viktoria doesn't dare look back over.

"Vik?" Florence whispers and her sister hums in response.

"Really?" Florence says, Viktoria is still distant but nods, "Knulla (fuck)! Därför (why)?"

Viktoria turns to her now, uncomfortably so due to her enlarged stomach but it's obvious that tears were threatening to spill down her cheeks, "Florence," she tries.

"Nej (no)! I have to go, var som helst borta från dig (anywhere away from you)!" Florence exclaims, and then the illusion of sisterhood was shattered, and the day too was ruined.

•

Rain is often thought to be the harbinger of ruined anything, failed hope and dreams or just foreboding unhappiness, but some enjoy the solitude and misery that follows the rain. Some take pleasure in the freedom of rain, for under it all are equal and it's soothing for the soul to relax even if the body has to drown in fallen raindrops.

Benedict was reading a letter when the downpour had started, he was quick to slam the open windows shut as the weather turned oppressive, his mind was in turmoil as he read over the acceptance letter.

It had escaped him that he had ever even applied for another art programme, especially due to his brother's interference the previous time, but he had. And he had also been accepted. It was to be held a good while away, and he would have to stay permanently for over seven solid months. Florence or art, swept round his mind, his mind conjuring advantages and disadvantages for both sides. He was slowly transferring them all down to paper but load footsteps on the stairs alerted him and he quickly hid away the parchment and when he looked up, he was met with no one else but his fiancée.

She ran at him, tears weren't spilling but Benedict could sense that something wasn't right so he exchanged no words and instead traded his words for actions. He held her so tightly, he thought himself to have changed the way her body was stanced, almost as if her stomach was blooming but he waved it away in her hour of comfort. She hugged him, whilst her clothes dripped on his dry ones, the weather had clearly plunged down on her but he didn't care, he hugged her back at the same rate, kissing whatever skin was left accessible whilst murmuring some sweet compliments into her skin, enjoying how she squirmed under his hot breath.

And that's another advantage to staying, he needs Florence as his wife. She will always be his other half, he can't tear himself away so quickly not without truly experiencing her and not without her say so.

authors note
so what do we think? i love writing vik because it's so unclear on what her next actions are, will she be good or bad, both or maybe neither
but we're getting somewhere with flo and benny, next chapter may be pretty interesting, to say the least x