𝐁𝐄͟𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐊𝐓

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ His 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 dwells in the bottom of his soul like an a͟͟n͟͟c͟͟h͟͟o͟͟r͟͟, seeking solid ground where it can 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭. ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

ㅤ | @frayedge ㅤ

ㅤ He guided you gently, walking you away from the balcony. Although every part of him longed to land at least one punch, he restrained himself—for the sake of their reputation. Sometimes, letting go was the wiser choice. ㅤ

ㅤ Without explaining himself, he took your arm, holding it firmly. “Fräulein—dear Miss,” he addressed you in a soft, composed tone, noticing the faint rosy color upon your cheeks. “Allow me to escort you to the guest room.” ㅤ

ㅤ “You don’t need to know me to step back,” he continued, his gaze sharpening as he looked the strange man down. “If I were you, I wouldn’t act so recklessly.” The man looked stunned for a moment. ㅤ

ㅤ Of course, the masks were meant to conceal their identities, though barely; Benedikt could still recognize most of his VIP guest list and the RSVPs. But this idiot—he seemed not to understand his place. ㅤ

ㅤ Bones cracking, papers piled high—this paperwork must be finished before dawn. ㅤ

ㅤ | @frayedge ㅤ

ㅤ With one swift motion, he brushed aside the man’s hand that dared linger on you. In its place, his own arm rose—not merely to claim, but to shield—forming a barrier between you and the dark edge of danger, holding you firm in the safety of his presence. ㅤ

ㅤ company present tonight. Certainly not of you. “𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?” His voice was deep, cold and sharp, breaking the silence of the edge of that balcony. ㅤ

ㅤ Without a word, Benedikt’s steps echoed heavy yet steady across the stone, each one carrying the weight of command. His gaze carved through the stranger—hair, suit, shoes, even the glint of his watch. All of it failed to impress him, none of it worthy of the ㅤ

ㅤ | Why we always write tragic ending for each HE? ㅤ