Warnings: my bad writing | GIF not mine | English is not my first language
Summary: You are the daughter of the Marquess of Queensberry, and have been a friend of the Bridgertons since birth. After your father allowed you to pursue your studies in France, you return to London to enter society. Upon receiving the news of your return from your father, Lady Bridgerton offers to look after you during this season. You are delighted to be reunited with your friends, confident that your past feelings for Anthony are now gone. But how true that is, you are soon to find out.
You were not nervous. Not at all. You were the epitome of calmness. That is why you could not stop toying with the ribbon around your wrist, or why you were tapping your foot on the marbled floor.
You were calm. Posed, elegant. A perfect lady.
It would have been nice if you could actually believe what you were so desperately trying to tell yourself. Your dear mama, bless her soul, would have fainted if she could have seen the mess you were making of your perfectly styled dress. But you were a lady, and you were calm.
And, most importantly, you were grateful that the butler had stayed silent. If anything, he just gave you a sympathetic look when you loudly gasped as he announced your arrival at the Bridgerton House.
There was no reason to be nervous, so you inhaled as much air as humanly possible, and stepped through the open door.
The first thing you saw was a flash of light blue, and before you could blink twice, Lady Bridgerton was in front of you, smiling fondly.
“My dearest Y/N,” she said, holding both of your hands, “it brings me so much joy to see you after all of these years.”
You breathed. This part was easy; it came to you like second nature to delicately wrap your arms around the woman who had been to you nothing less than a mother. “Lady Bridgerton, it is a pleasure to finally be here again.”
“Now, dearest, you know you must call me Violet,” she reminded you with the same sweet voice she used when you were a child, “we are family, after all.”
You bowed your head.
Family. That is what the Bridgertons were to you. And speaking of, you could not help but notice the absence of all of them.
“Where is everyone?” you asked, looking around the room.
“I thought it best not to call them this morning until you arrived. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
You nodded, taking a seat next to Lady Bridgerton. Everything was so familiar in this place, although most of your childhood was spent at Aubrey Hall, and you could not help but relax. You had loved your time in France, but returning home was a feeling so warm and overwhelming that it had managed to ease all of your nervousness for the upcoming season.
“I take France has been a lovely time?”
“Most wonderful. My tutors were incredibly patient with me and my studies proceeded well. Although, I must say I have missed you all.”
The door opened with a loud bang and you saw Gregory and Hyacinth making their way inside the room, fighting over something you did not quite catch.
“Children! Where are your manners? You must be on your best behaviour in front of our guest,” Lady Bridgerton said, amusement colouring her voice.
“Y/N!” both Hyacinth and Gregory shouted, immediately running to you. They had grown up so much in the three years you had been away, you could hardly believe that they were not the two little children of your memories.
You hugged them both, telling them how much you had missed them. Their shouts must have alerted the other Bridgertons because one by one they started filling the room. Benedict was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he noticed you, his younger siblings wrapped around you. Colin had wanted to share notions of his travels with you, seeming completely enraptured by your tales of France. Eloise could not stop asking you about your studies, what had you been reading, what did you think about modern political issues concerning women, and utterly expressing her frustration and envy at the fact that your father had allowed you to study while she was forced to go hunt for an eligible husband. Francesca was just as polite as you remembered and she made you promise to practice with her on the pianoforte.
In the middle of your reunion with the Bridgertons, you almost missed Anthony standing frozen at the door, disbelief written all over his face upon seeing you entertaining his siblings with your stories of France. When you noticed him, you shot him an amused smile.
“What is the meaning of this?” Anthony said looking at you and then at his mother. “Is it not custom anymore to inform first the head of the household of the arrival of a new guest?”
You laughed, hearing the amusement in his voice. You got up and walked towards Anthony, deciding once again that you were calm. Nothing was happening inside of you. Absolutely nothing.
“Hush now, brother,” said Benedict.
Anthony met you halfway through the room and you lightly bowed your head. “My Lord,” you said shooting him a playful glance, “I hope my unexpected arrival is not met with your disapproval.”
“I guess forgiveness might still be granted,” he sighed tilting his head to the side feigning annoyance. “With the right price, of course,” he added.
Eloise groaned in the back, “you two are gross”.
You could not help but laugh, “and what could possibly be that the Viscount wants from me?”
Anthony smiled at you. He was done joking, you could tell how happy and pleased he was to see you. You could have pointed out the small flip your heart did inside your chest, but you ignored it. It seemed there was a lot you were going to ignore when it came to Anthony Bridgerton.
“Why, but a hug.” And before you realised it, you were between his arms, your head gently pressed to his chest. You could not help but inhale deeply, because you could ignore almost anything, but you certainly could not ignore how much you had missed him. And perhaps your heart was now pounding in your chest, perhaps your throat felt tighter and you could not quite well inhale enough air. Perhaps your stomach became an intricate knot and your skin was burning you alive. And perhaps you had been a fool, thinking that three years in France would have removed any feeling you might have possibly harboured for the Viscount, but when you took a step back nothing of what was going on inside you was showing on your face.
You were going to ignore it all. And perhaps, you were going to ignore how the Viscount’s hand had brushed ever so lightly on the bare skin of your back when you pulled away. Perhaps, you were going to ignore the sharp intake of breath he took when you had rested your head on him. You were more than certain you were going to ignore how his fingers brushed your arms before falling back to his side.
Yes, you were going to ignore it all, for if there was one thing in this world you could not allow yourself to do, it was falling back in love with Anthony Bridgerton.
And so, you stayed calm.
***
The evening of your first ball since your return to England had finally come. Lady Danbury was hosting this ball to celebrate your reunion and your father had informed you earlier that day that the Queen would be attending. You supposed it should have come to no surprise considering that both women had been close with your mother, the late Marchioness.
“Maybe we can still find a way out of this dreadful situation.”
You turned around to look at Eloise wrestling with her dress and fidgeting around her gloves. You chuckled, “I am afraid one does not say no the Queen.”
“One could fake an illness or faint on the dance floor,” she muttered making Benedict laugh.
“Must you always be so much fun at every ball, sister?”
You shook your head and left the two Bridgertons arguing to themselves. To be completely honest, you were starting to feel nervous, and you regretted drinking that lemonade earlier. It was exhausting having to join meaningless conversations with men who had clearly no interest in your studies and with women who had too much interest in your private affairs.
“Lady Y/N, the Queen summons you.”
At last, the time had come. You made your way to where the Queen and Lady Danbury were standing, your heart sinking into your stomach. When you stood in front of the two women, you bowed deeply in sign of respect.
“My Queen, it is an honour to be back in England and in your presence,” you said with all the grace and sweetness your voice could manage. “Lady, Danbury, I am most grateful for the ball. Your kindness humbles me.”
The Queen smiled at you, and your worries disappeared. You had her favour still.
“Come, child. I want to hear everything about your trip.”
***
“I could not help but notice you are not dancing.”
You smiled, no need to turn around. You could have recognised that voice in the middle of a maze, at midnight, blindfolded. The way your chest would alight upon hearing that voice, the way the sound would carry its weight right into your heart and deep inside you, making you feel heavy and light at the same time, were all signs that you had learned to recognise with time.
“I am afraid I have not found anyone worthy of my time,” you replied.
You knew your mother would have wanted you to find a love match, or at the very least a comfortable marriage, but truth be told you were not looking for either. Your father had other plans for you when it came to marriage, and as for you, you swore off love years ago.
Anthony smiled at you, standing at your side. “I take you have not missed any of this?”
You looked around the room, at all those people dressed in fancy clothes, dancing and talking, some of them hoping to secure a future for themselves. You watched them from distance, as you have always done. The dynamics of society never really concerned you. Your father had made sure that you would be provided for well before your birth. Your life was secure in a way many of these people envied. You had no need for a husband, you had never really needed to fit in. The Queen had treated you like a protege since childhood, a favour to your mother. All you ever desired was to find your freedom and your place in the world. You had found the first, but you were far away from achieving the second.
“I suppose I have not, not really. I was never much of dancer,” you replied at last.
Anthony hummed and stepped in your line of vision, extending his hand towards you. “I remember differently from when we were children. Allow me to have this dance, Lady Y/N.”
And so, once again, you were a turmoil of emotions, desperately trying to tell yourself that you were imagining everything. You nodded your head, not really trusting your voice. Taking Anthony’s hand, you both stepped in the dance floor. His hand found its place in the centre of your back while the other held yours firmly.
“You are right, in a way,” you told him while spinning around the room. The way he would catch your body back to his was making it very difficult to concentrate on your steps. Your bodies were gravitating around each other, being pulled back together like a magnet.
Anthony cocked his head to the side, a curious glint in his eyes. You continued, “you are quite right, my Lord. We danced together a great deal in our youth. However, I never really enjoyed dancing, not even as a child, unless it was with you.”
You felt his grip on your back tighten and you could swear Anthony took a sharp intake of air. His hand was so firmly pressed against you that you soon found yourself dangerously close to him. The dancing pace had quickened and you were soon out of breath, yet you knew that the reason had little to do with the dancing itself. Anthony was silent, he was looking at you in the eyes, not allowing you to look anywhere but him. On the rare occasions that his eyes would move, it would be lower, and you had to fight the urge to whimper when you found him staring at your lips.
Breathing was becoming almost impossible. You had to get away from him. And really, you only had yourself to blame for the situation you were in. Three years spent in France trying to forget the very fact that your soul was consumed to its very core from the love you had for Anthony Bridgerton had not been sufficient enough. You had wasted all of your efforts and all it took was one dance. All of your talks of freedom, of independence, all was being washed away but the same feeling that caused you to flee.
You could not take it anymore, and so when the dance finally came to an end, you swiftly bowed to him and ran away in the most contained and gracious way you could manage. You did not stop when he called your name, nor when Eloise did the same. You had to get out of there because any minute spent around Anthony was another minute your heart would spend harbouring hopes of a future together. Hopes that you could not allow yourself to have. You were the only heir your father had, the family line was going to die with you. And so, your father had allowed the freedom and the independence you had always desired. As his only heir, you were to be Marchioness of Queensberry. But you could not marry or you would lose your title.
You could either marry Anthony Bridgerton and become his Viscountess or you could become the head of your own household and be Y/N, Marchioness of Queensberry.
Perhaps France had not been a far enough place for you to run to to get rid of these feelings. Although, you doubted there was a corner in this world you could go to where your soul did not long to be with Anthony, where your heart would ever stop loving him.
***
Dear Gentle Reader,
as I am sure you are aware, Lady Y/N of Queensberry has made her return to England and was present at yesterday night’s ball. For those of you who don’t remember, three years ago the young Marchioness left the country to pursue her studies in France. The reason behind such a decision is to most obscure, but not to this author. In fact, as the only heir of the Marquess of Queensberry, Lady Y/N has been schooled on matters of the estate, on top of the duties of a household. Nothing has been confirmed, but this author wonders whether certain traditions might finally come to an endand if indeed Lady Y/N is to become the new Marchioness. And now, dearest reader, I must inform you of what I am sure has been duly noted by many members of the ton. Lady Y/N, noted friend of the esteemed Bridgertons, was seen dancing with no one less than the Viscount himself. You must agree with me that the two did make quite the couple, and this author wonders if perhaps we are in the presence of what might very well be the most heartbreaking story of the season. Rest assured, dear reader, that I shall uncover the details.
Yours, Lady Whistledown
***
“Y/N? Are you listening to me?” Eloise was waving a hand in your face while you were all enjoying the sunshine in the park. You were lost in your own thoughts and had not heard a single word she said.
“I am sorry, Eloise, what were you saying?” You asked, shaking your head to get rid of your thoughts. It had been five days since the ball and you had managed to avoid Anthony with great success. Your father had joined you in London the day after the ball so you could assist him in his work. Focusing on your duties and responsibilities made it a lot easier to avoid Anthony but when the Bridgertons had asked you to join them for an afternoon stroll in the park you could not refuse. You finally had a chance to catch up with Daphne about her life and tried your best to avoid Anthony’s gaze.
“So, is it true what Lady Whistledown has written about you? You are to be Marchioness?” Eloise asked again.
You nodded, “indeed. Although, there is still much to learn before anything really happens.”
“That is quite lovely my dear,” Lady Bridgerton said with a small smile, although you couldn’t help but notice a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I cannot help but wonder what will happen when you finally find love.”
“Whatever do you mean, mother?” Benedict asked. You knew very well what Lady Bridgerton was asking and you finally understood the sadness you spotted in her eyes. She was worried about you.
“I cannot imagine many gentlemen who would marry a woman who is in charge of her own land,” Lady Bridgerton said.
“Then they would be a fool,” came Anthony’s reply. You forced yourself to not look at him in the eyes.
You sighed, “do not worry, Lady Bridgerton. I do not think it will pose any threat.” When you were met with confused looks, you continued explaining, “the conditions of my inheritance is that I will not marry. If I have to become Marchioness that shall be on my own and not through marriage.”
Lady Bridgerton gasped, “you cannot mean that. But what about love?”
You finally turned towards Anthony. He looked like someone had just punched all the air out of him. He opened his mouth to say something and then immediately closed it. He didn’t know what to say, but then again, what does one say when the person whom you have loved your entire life just told you they are never to be married?
“What about it? She’ll have something much better than that. She’ll have her independence,” replied Eloise.
“Yeah, I suppose I will,” you said sadly.
***
You were enjoying some lemonade, looking at all the people dancing. Throughout the years, when the other ladies where being taught how to dance gracefully and you were learning how to manage your estate, you had grown fond of being a spectator. You had learned how to recognise the look of true joy, to spot if a gentleman was interested in a young lady and if she had any feelings towards him. You had known from the very start that love would have no part in your life, so you learned how to live love through people.
Your father had been so scarred by the death of you beloved mama that he vowed you would never have to go through the same pain. And so, he had given you something many ladies wished for but could never have: your freedom. In return, you had given up love. You had set to France hoping to get rid of your feelings for the Viscount, wishing that distance could take them all away, so that you could become the Marchioness you were always meant to be. But now you knew how foolish you had been to even think that. Your feelings had resurfaced the moment your eyes met Anthony’s. They bursted into your heart and set it alight consuming you to your very core. And all was left behind was heartbreak and ashes.
“Is it true, then?”
You didn’t turn around, you already knew who it was. “Is what true, my Lord?”
“You are to be Marchioness?” Anthony asked you. This time you looked at him. His jaw was set, his posture rigid. Why did he look like he was the one in pain? And why did that make you feel hopeful?
“I am indeed, my Lord,” you answered him. You didn’t really know what he wanted you to say that he didn’t already know.
He nodded, “very well.” Then, he moved in front of you, just like he always used to do when he wanted to shield you from everyone else, the very same action that had always made you feel you were his and his alone. “May I have a last dance, Lady Y/N?”
You inhaled sharply. “My Lord?” You asked confused. Last dance? You had no idea what he meant by that. But Anthony offered you no explanation, he simply took your hand in the most delicate and loving way. Your heart melted, you did not care that it was probably inappropriate to take hold of a lady’s hand, all you cared about was the soft brush of his thumb against your skin. Everything inside you was burning. The world was empty but from him and you, and you were burning.
You started dancing. It was slow, it was intimate, it was painful. Every time he had to let you go, you could see the pain in his eyes. And every time you came back in his arms, he pulled you closer, like he never wanted to let you go. You felt Anthony’s hands gripping your waist, leaving a mark behind. You felt the heat through the fabric of your dress and you had never wished for the contact of his skin like you were now. Breathing was becoming a hard task.
“I guess this is why you never concerned yourself to dance with anyone else but me.” You were not expecting him to speak, nor to sound so broken.
You looked at him in the eyes, not even feeling offended at his slight accusation. “I dance only with you because you are the only one I want to dance with.”
He spun you around so that your back was firmly pressed to his chest. Then he lowered his head, and his lips brushed your ear ever so softly when he whispered “and why is that?”
Before you could turn around, the dance was over and Anthony was making his way out of the room. You were left there, breathing heavily, with your stomach scrunched in pain, empty and broken. Your father would be sad knowing that you had felt the pain of heartbreak long before you even knew what love was and that the very thing he had tried to shield you from was the thing that was already destroying you. But what your father could never figure out was that that pain, that crushing feeling of not being able to be with the person you loved, it was all worth it. Love was worth the pain, the burning. Anthony was worth every tear, every heartbreak because he was the person that had always cheered you up, the person you would go to whenever you were sad, the person who loved you dearly, of that you were now sure, and the person you had loved since you were old enough to know what love was.
He was worth the pain, he was worth more than your title. And so, you ran after him.
***
You found him on the terrace, his head lowered down, his shoulders visibly tense. He looked in pain and the sight broke your heart a little.
“Why did you say a last dance?” You announced yourself by asking him the question that had been plaguing you.
Anthony chuckled but there was no mirth in it. He shook his head, looking at the starry sky. “I cannot dance with you again.”
You took a step closer to him, “and why is that?”
Anthony rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, turning around to face you. “Because it is too much of a torment. One that I cannot endure anymore.”
“I had no idea dancing with me would cause you so much torment, my Lord,” you said through a broken voice and tears that threaten to run down your face. “Rest assured, it is not my intention to hurt you any longer. You shall be free from your torment.”
“What are you implying?” His voice hardened, but whether it was from hurt or anger, you did not know. Anthony was now in front of you, his eyes frantically looking for yours.
You gulped, “I shall return to my estate in Scotland. I have no business in London seeing as I am in no need of a husband. You will never have to dance with me again.”
“You cannot do this.” Anthony grabbed your arm and you could no longer hold your tears. “You cannot leave again.”
You looked at his pleading eyes, at the fear that lied behind them, it was for you cause of immense pain. Perhaps this was the right thing to do. You came here to tell Anthony that you loved him, that your title meant nothing, and now you were in the middle of doing the opposite. It was for the best, you told yourself through the sobs. You could not disappoint your father. It did not matter that you would never know what it was like to be utterly and completely loved. It could not matter.
“Please,” Anthony whispered, “do not leave me again. These past three years have been so difficult, all I could think about was seeing you back here. Back with me.”
You shook your head, anger rising. “I do not understand. I thought I caused you torment?!”
Anthony squeezed your arm and rested his head on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. You felt his nose brush your neck and your heart skipped several beats. “It is the love I have for you that torments me so.”
“Anthony, I-“
“Y/N,” he spoke your name softly, hesitantly, almost scared. He said it so quietly and you were immediately drunk on the way it had sounded from his lips. “Being so close to you and not being able to kiss you,” his other hand now grabbed your waist, leaving hot marks on your skin, “to hug you, to make you mine in all the ways a man can make a woman his,” he continued, placing his lips to your ear and breathing in your scent, “it torments me. It is crushing my very soul.”
You were breathing hard, almost panting. Your head was hurting, you could not think. Everything around you was a blur and all that existed was the man who was gripping your waist as if you were the only anchor in the ocean that could save him. All you could feel was Anthony’s lips brushing against your skin, so close that you could feel little sparkles and yet so far from where you really wanted them. Your world was on fire, and Anthony had been the one to set it aflame.
“Anthony, please-”
“But I am a gentleman, and I cannot,” he said tearing himself away from you, “I will not take away your freedom, your title.”
You shook your head with vigour and this time it was you who grabbed his arm. “Don’t,” you whispered, “don’t take away my freedom by choosing for me.”
Anthony was refusing to meet your eyes so you tugged on his jacket, “I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I have done so since the very first time you asked me to dance with you.”
You were now crying. Silent sobs were shaking your body and your head was pounding so hard that you could hardly stand up. Anthony finally met your eyes and brushed away your tears. You smiled, wishing that you could show him how much he had always meant to you. But here you were, crying on the terrace and no idea on how to fix the situation you were in. You loved the Viscount, but did the Viscount love you?
“I do,” Anthony said, reading the silent question in your eyes. “I am tormented by my feelings for you, by the fear that I will be taking away from you much more than what I will be able to give you in return. But I love you, every day more than each passing one. With all of my heart, my soul is yours.”
And then he kissed you. Slowly, like you expected him to do. Because Anthony had always been careful with you, always making sure you were comfortable and happy with him. He had a way of touching you, almost as if he was touching a diamond, as if he wanted to worship you, cherish you. You kissed him back through your salty lips, anchoring yourself to him. His lips were soft and warm and you never wanted him to stop. You needed him to never stop.
You let out a small sigh, almost a moan, and it was all it took for Anthony to groan into your mouth and completely devour your very essence. He was everywhere, in your hair, on your waist, touching your back, caressing your face, pushing you closer and closer to him. He was consuming you, and you had no objection to it.
“Anthony,” you sighed while trying to breathe in as much air as you could. He was smiling at you, so bright and beautiful, and you could swear that in that moment there was no title, no duties to honour, just the love that you two shared.
You laughed, finally happy. “I choose you, Anthony Bridgerton.”
“What about your position?” He asked.
“I will deal with my Father when the time is due. For now,” you said resting your head on his shoulder, completely at peace, “for now, I choose you.”
Anthony kissed the top of your head and embraced you. The two of you stayed like this for a very long time, long enough for Benedict to find you, still embraced, still in love with each other, still so happy. You would both worry about the future tomorrow. Because you were determined to keep your position as Marchioness and marry the man you loved. You had made your choice and the world was going to respect it, one way or the other.
I am still feeling so conflicted because I am mourning for a lot of things but some moments were so so great. The actors all did an amazing job and these are just my opinions on the good and bad changes to Kanthony. SPOILERS (obviously) for book and show. I understood why some changes occurred but some made absolutely ZERO sense to me
LOVED
No Sienna scenes or the “pick it up” scene in the library in the library. That made me asdhflkash in the books
I quite liked that it was Anthony with Edmund during the sting
That Kate and Anthony were of a similar height
Liked the added horse race scene and the hunting scene (ALSO KATE BEING A GREAT HORSE RIDER)
Lady Danbury being their sponsor was a great idea
Daphne realising Kate is a better match for him
That they didn’t get forced into an engagement like Simon and Daphne
Anthony interviewing candidates in the beginning was hilarious
HATED
THEY ERASED KATE’S TRAUMA AND ANTHONY’S BELIEF THAT HE WOULD DIE YOUNG. It was great in the books that they both really helped each other through ”irrational fears.” Kate hiding her weaknesses from everyone and Anthony thinking he’ll die young were integral parts of their character. And seeing how they worked through that together
WHAT THEY DID TO EDWINA. Edwina NEVER had feelings for Anthony in the books and that was why it was okay for Kanthony to end up together. I hate it when there is an unnecessary love triangle especially with sisters. She actually shipped Kate and Anthony. It was so unique in the books that there isn’t really a love triangle
Anthony would NEVER have proposed to a girl that had feelings for him (THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT). They could’ve just made Edwina have a small crush initially then have her change her mind. NO ONE GOT HURT LIKE THAT IN THE BOOKS. They dragged it on too long and it made them betray Edwina, which hurts both the main lead’s character
We deserved the talking Newton on a walk scene
Anthony’s relationship with his siblings could have been done better. He was not that controlling and stuck up. They also didn’t show how much of a father he was to the younger ones to the extent I would’ve hoped.
Violet was also kinda shit to Anthony in the show sometimes. Like he is like that because he had to be there for you, his siblings, the estate and title of viscount at age 18!!! And she just wants him to be normal now after him being a pseudo husband/father for years and shouldering on responsibility alone. HE DEDICATED HIMSELF TO THE FAMILY.
“I am asking you to marry me because I love you,” he said, “because I cannot imagine living my life without you. I want to see your face in the morning, and then at night, and a hundred times in between. I want to grow old with you, I want to laugh with you, and I want to sigh to my friends about how managing you are, all the while secretly knowing I am the luckiest man in town.”
“In every life there is a turning point. A moment so tremendous, so sharp and clear that one feels as if one’s been hit in the chest, all the breath knocked out, and one knows, absolutely knows without the merest hint of a shadow of a doubt that one’s life will never be the same.”
“It was strange, to find a woman who could make him happy just with her mere presence. He didn’t even have to see her, or hear her voice, or even smell her scent. He just had to know that she was there.”
“In three days,“ he continued, "I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?”
I’m so tired of people complaining about Bridgerton not being historically accurate… the writers of the show themselves have stated that they purposely DON’T want the show to be historically accurate. Mfs back then were dumping their shit in the thames river and drinking from it at the same time and aristocrats bathed every few months, and they would comfortably take a shit in front of their servants…those mfs smelled like onions and cholera idc, argue with yourselves. They were wearing layers upon layers of clothing there’s just no way they didn’t REEK. why tf would you want historical accuracy for a period romance drama in a time like that, that’s sexy to you?! fuck that. I’m glad it’s not accurate bc it keeps my mind off of the fact that they were nasty. And before anyone tries to bring up the different ways in which they would make themselves smell good, a person (in this case society as a whole) never knows the smell of their own body bc they’re accustomed to it so bye. Go watch a documentary or something Xx
Scent have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words, appearances, emotions, or will. The persuasive power of an scent cannot be fended off, it enters into us like breath into our lungs, it fills us up, imbues us totally. There is no remedy for it.
This whole season is based on details that slowly develop everything that happens between Anthony and Kate.
HANDS
I don’t think that there’s much to talk about this topic. The hands were the true protagonist of the story. They communicate through the hands. Hands were their bond. Hands were the expression of their unique love.
LOOKS
The looks that the give to one another. When the room or the place were full of people and they look at each other it was like they were the only one left in that space, it was like everyone else disappeared. They have the power and the magic to make every other person superfluous, they were the one and only in that place.
Their looks express desire, longing, crave, love and all the emotions that they cut off just to fulfill their duty.
SCENT
Anthony is overwhelmed by Kate scent, it’s his personal aphrodisiac. Anthony go crazy every time he smell her scent. And when Kate is near him it’s like he can’t control himself, he has to smell her and drown in her scent, in her essence.
PANIC ATTACKS
The fact that Kate understood when Anthony was having a panic attack and calm him down is the ultimate expression of care. The whole bee scene was superior. Anthony hands placed on her and on his heart just to make him feel that they beat in unison.
Anthony panics every time Kate mention to go to India, he literally go crazy, like he can’t stand to be even one centimeter apart from her.
THEY ARE THE ALIKE
Anthony is Kate and Kate is Anthony. It’s like they are the same person. They sacrificed their lives in order to protect their family. They had duty to fulfill and that is what they do, not always is the best or right ways but in the best way they can do. Anthony is the only person that can understand Kate completely and viceversa. They even have the same competitive spirit.
UNLOCKED EMOTION
“I witnessed you change the day he died. Do you know you didn’t weep once? And you stopped laughing all together, in fact. It was as though you had become an entirely different person, consumed by the expectations of others.”
Daphne
Kate is the only one that make Anthony laugh and cry, he laugh with her and cry for her. She is the only one that can unlock his emotions. It’s like he can finally breathe when he’s with her, he is alive around her.
“NOT A MAN OF POETRY ”
“Truth to be told, I’m not a man of poetry” Cit.
“Do you think that there is a corner on this Earth, that you could travel to, far away enough to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor us hanging by a thread that grows more precarious every moment I spend in your presence. You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. Night and day I dream of you”
“It is maddening. How much you consume my very being. All I find myself thinking about, all I find myself being able to breathe for is you. Do you think I want to be in this position? Contending with this thoughts of wanting to be nowhere except with you?”
“ I love you. I loved you from the moment we raced each other in that park. I’ve loved you at every dance, on every walk, every time we’ve been together and every time we’ve been apart. You do not have to accept it or embrace it or even allow it. Knowing you probably will not. But you must know it. In your heart. You must feel it, because I do. I love you”
