thedispatch | (no subject)

(no subject)

William dropped down from his horse. It had been a long ride - from London straight down to the southern coast of England. But he'd barely stopped, only doing so when his horse refused to go further without rest and water. But each time, William did little more than tap his foot anxiously, trying to focus on anything but his thoughts of what happened the day before.

But now that he'd arrived, there was nothing else to distract him. The horse was forgotten as he walked towards where the English Channel extended out to what seemed like eternity. With the thick fog of the early morning, there was no telling just what was out there. William's breath was shaky as his gaze then drifted down. Beachy Head, a beautiful site for some, with the tall cliff towering over the shore line below. But for him, this day, it was his enemy - or perhaps his closes friend. Whichever the case, he was terrified.

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Are you speaking of the dress or confidence going out on your own?

[ If she's turned enough, she might catch him briefly glancing down her legs. But, he doesn't want to be disrespectful or crude, so it's a fleeting moment. ]

[ Hm, all too fleeting a glance to determine his interest. Though they've been quite comfortable with one another, there's the slight chance that William might not harbor sexual interest in her. She's not sensed it before. ]

Well, I meant the dress, but I certainly never would have had the confidence to wear something like it at all, if not for you.

[ Once he's undone the buttons to her bodice and loosened the ties of her corset, she's able to unclasp the undergarment. Such comes with an audible sigh of relief! ]

I want to continue working on that until you feel comfortable as your current self, despite it not being what you truly are.

[ The bodice and corset join the other garments, before he turns his attention back to her, eyes locked on appropriate places. ]

I assume this is obvious, but I would like you to stay in my bed tonight.

[ It's true, she lacks that sort of confidence entirely-- now that she's shed her armor, she's right back to feeling self-conscious. Her hands had been running over the marks left by the corset, but now they've come to rest at her shoulders, absentmindedly covering her chest. She hums, eyes on the discarded mound of clothing, until William speaks again. It commands her attention - and his words make her flush. ]

I would like that.

[ Watching her cover herself up like that only gets him to frown. He takes her arms in hand, pulling them away from her chest. ]

Stop. I should be the last person you feel you need to be embarrassed or ashamed before.

[ With a blink, she flusters! ]

I'm sorry, Will. It isn't you.

[ To show him just that, she steps nearer, meekly looking between his eyes. If he releases her arms, she'll slink them about his middle in a loose embrace. ]

[ He knows it isn't him. And so he openly allows the hug, placing his arms around her like he's done so many times before. ]

I believe the first step may have to be learning how to ignore any hatred from others. Their opinion should have no baring on you.

[ She continues to search his gaze, but not for anything specific. Merely lost with nowhere in mind. ]

I know you're right, but that sounds... dangerous.

How so?

[ Having never been in her situation, he knows he's lacking information on it. But he wants to learn and help her. ]

[ For a moment, she quietly contemplates how to tell him, or if she even should. After all, this should be a night of celebration, for many reasons.

No. Not only does he deserve to know, he should understand what her world was like before she drags him into it.

With a swallow, she looks down. ]

My teeth--uhm. Three young men tailed me home from the theatre one evening. They pushed my face into the wall, kicked at me once I was down, shouting that I-- wouldn't be using my cock-sucking mouth for sin any longer, more or less.

[ Closing her eyes, she's frowning deep as she heaves a shaken sigh. ]

I don't know how long I was on the ground before the policeman arrived, but when he did, my neighbor was there and told him it was all because I was a molly. The only question he asked is if it were true.

[ A faint scoff. ]

Oh, and while I was in the hospital, the theatre was exposed for its nightly festivities, as it were. Those there were dragged out into the streets and stoned. The ones they found in bed together were hanged.

[ Really, he's always known that this was the way people treated those like Grell. But it had never been something he'd encountered first hand. Essentially, he had no reason to dwell on the subject, until now. ]

That won't be happening to you again. I will see to that. I will keep you safe.

[ He pulls Grell back in for a hug, holding her head close, should she need to let out any tears. ]

Are you more fearful of what people think of you, or what may happen as a result?

[ Still, he's so brave for her sake. Leaning into him, she rests her chin against his chest, breath quivering. She's trying very hard not to cry, relief washing over her like spring water. ]

I'd-- always been fearful, but. Yes. It became too overwhelming, lonely, unbearable. With all else, I couldn't find the sense in struggling to live in a world that didn't want me.

[ She hugs him a but tighter. ]

But then, there was you.

I only wish we could have met under better circumstances.

[ As she hugs him tighter, his hand rubs along her bare back in an attempt to calm her. ]

You haven't met anymore hardships during your time alone during the day, have you?

[ The question effectively distracts her, as she mulls over her time during the past several months. ]

I can only think of a few curious stares out at market, perhaps? Nothing notable...

[ A calming breath. ]

Dressing as I have seems to help, after all, it seems

That is most likely because you feel more yourself.

[ Sensing she's calmed, he releases her. ]

Tell me, immediately, if something happens.

[ Leaning back to look at him, her arms droop about his waist. She closes her eyes with a nod. ]

No secrets, so deception. I meant that.

Good.

[ His eyes leave hers, instead looking over the delicate pinning of her hair. He wouldn't even know how to begin taking it down without it becoming a tangled mess. ]

Tend to your hair and paint. I'll finish readying myself for bed, as well.

[ Ah, so perhaps he does intend to just sleep. Humming her understanding, she saves any looks of disappointment for once she's turned away to do just that.

But first, she kisses his cheek. ]

Very well, darling. I won't be long.

[ Once she's returned, she'll find William has forgone the long night gown he would typically wear to bed. Instead, he's merely in his pants. But being as it's Christmas Eve and snow is falling, he's dug out some heavy blankets to keep them snug and warm despite the bare skin. He's just laying out the last one as she approaches. ]

This should keep the chill off us.

[ Touching a hand to her chest with some surprise, she has a lopsided little smile on her lips. ]

Good. You must be freezing.

[ She, however, has removed all those pesky underthings of hers and replaced them with a nightgown. Not much warmer, though!

Picking up a corner of the diligently layered blankets, she holds them up for William to slip under more easily. ]

Come on, then. Let's fix that.

I sleep like this on occasion. Nightgowns tend to roll up on me and I rarely find them comfortable.

[ With that, he's slipping beneath the blankets, then holding them up for Grell to join him. The effect of the blankets takes over immediately and William finds himself sighing comfortably. ]

Pants don't seem much more comfortable in bed, really...

[ Still, she won't complain, as she's able to cozy right up beside him and run her hands along his bare stomach whilst embracing him! ]

It's the better of the two, for me.

[ He'd held her in bed like this before, but there's a difference this time. Subtle as it may be, William feels like he's relaxed even more as she holds onto him. Perhaps the conflict of his feeling for her was stressing him more than he realised, because now he feels as though he can breathe and push everything but this moment with her from his mind. ]

I have been curious. Which do you prefer, scarlet or crimson?

[ Grell idly wonders why he might not just forgo garments altogether, if that were the case - but, that can be a suggestion for another time.

Settling her head on his shoulder, in favor of the pillow, she is caught off guard by the seemingly random and startlingly innocent question. She can't help but chuckle through her breath. ]

Ah, that's a good one! I think scarlet is daring and lively, and crimson more dramatic and passionate. I might lean slightly toward the latter.

Hm. I can see how those terms would correlate.

[ The way he responds sounds as though her answer has given him some important insight, though he doesn't continue with any explanation. ]