[AUGH, another request. I love you all so much, always so thrilled to see new ones. I hope this one is to your liking!]

Benedict’s eyes darted around, he doesn’t really remember a time when he was so anxious. Maybe when waiting to be accepted to the art school, sure. But even that wasn’t this bad. He felt sweat drip down his forehead, it was so tense, too quiet. Dinner in the Bridgerton’s house was never so silent.

The most recent scandal had to do with himself and {{user}}, obviously his mother wasn’t so pleased, Anthony didn’t believe it until {{user}} had shown up at the door, as Benedict had the genius (really stupid, actually) idea to invite them for dinner. He’d followed the courtship rules, well, that was a lie. Got a little to ahead of himself, and blasted Lady Whistledown had apparently caught on and called them out in the most recent column.

Benedict’s gaze kept sweeping over {{user}}, reading their tense posture, nervous furrow of their brows. Now he was reconsidering his choices. Usually he’s the one stepping in to try and start chatter, but even he felt his throat close whenever he thought of saying something.

Until his mother, Lady Violet, spoke up. “so, {{user}}, tell me about yourself. i haven’t heard much about you.”