Through Scarlet Stains (You Found Us) - ArtistiqueReader12 (2025)

1

Colin Bridgerton’s world changed the moment he met Penelope Featherington.

He had been hot on Benedicts heels while trying to get his older brother back for taking the last piece of pie that he’d been saving for breakfast. They were rounding the corner at the end of the street when a sudden flash of yellow distracted him and a hat whacked him in the face making him lose his footing and fall to the ground. He was just getting his bearings back and preparing to get up and follow Benedict’s laughter when, suddenly, there was someone else talking to him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Wild, wind-swept curls adorning flushed cheeks and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen stared down at him with worry. The girl’s lower lip wobbled a little and he was so confounded about it all that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“What are you apologizing for?” He asked after his laughter subsided into a giggle. She was looking at him a bit strangely, a little dazed, and, even then, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“I-I… That’s my hat.” She murmured the last part and he looked down at the piece of fabric in his hand.

“That’s alright, I should’ve been paying more attention.” He smiled and watched in delight as her cheeks went from pink to red. “I’m Colin.” He said as he stood up and handed the hat back to her.

“I’m Penelope.” She said timidly, gingerly taking the hat and looking at him from under her lashes. Colin knew, in that moment, that those eyes would haunt him forever.

“Well, Penelope, would you care for some biscuits?” He offered his elbow and talked to her as he had seen in Daphne’s latest favorite regency movie. Benedict was long gone from his mind; his only thought was how to extend his time with this girl.

Penelope gave him a sunny smile, all white teeth and crinkling eyes, and slid her hand into the crook of his arm. He guided her home.

-

Their interaction that first day, sadly, had been cut short little over twenty minutes later as they sat down at the kitchen in Colin’s house. He had barely learned about her moving to the house out front, that she was eleven to his thirteen and had two older sisters when Eloise appeared. She took one look at Penelope and, just like Colin, immediately knew she was special. She asked for Penelope’s name and then promptly declared that “Colin’s a bore, come with me.” She took the little redhead by the hand and went away. Colin’s only consolation was that Penelope looked just as confused and longingly back at him as he was sure he did at her.

-

It turned out that they all studied at the same school as well so, usually, Colin would wait for both Eloise and Penelope (who got along like a house on fire, which, to his dismay, meant Eloise hogged Penelope most of the time) so they could make their way back home together. He got some teasing remarks from Anthony and Benedict, but he brushed it off by saying he was actually the one who had befriended Penelope first.

Most days, he would find the girls while making his way to the exit and they would go from there. However, in this particular day, a few months after their first meeting, class had ended early for him. He was reclining against a wall just outside the school entrance when he heard them.

“Did you see how red she got?” he recognized Fife’s voice and tried tunning him out.

Fife was an obnoxious at best and plain out awful out worst classmate in Colin’s class. His family’s name afforded him a level of security which left him with the impression he could walk all over whoever he thought was beneath him. Colin hated his guts with a passion. He tolerated Fife whenever he tried to make conversation with him but never allowed him to get too close. Even Anthony, ever the pragmatist, made his approval known when Colin let him know of his distaste of the boy as he, himself, had to deal with the boy’s father for work related reasons. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.

“It was almost the same shade as her hair!” Colin heard one of Fife’s cronies say with a derisive chuckle. “A little more and she might’ve turned purple!”

“Truly! And it wasn’t as if we said anything that wasn’t true! She should’ve been happy you even looked her way.” Said another one and Colin frowned in distaste.

“I know!” Fife crowed. “Well, she is hard to miss, she does take quite some space.” Another malicious laugh.

“Maybe she’ll take it as encouragement.” The first boy said. “I mean, the other Featheringtons aren’t that bad.” Colin felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. They were talking about Penelope.

“I wouldn’t say they’re good either, although this one may have some potential if she drops a pound… or twenty.” Uproarious laughter followed Fife’s comment and that was the last thing Colin remembered before his vision cleared.

One second, he was standing, the next, he was being hauled back, his knuckles smarting and shouting in his ear. Fife was on the ground, clutching his nose and his left eye.

“BRIDGERTON, STOP, STOP!” Cho, one of the two other guys with Fife, was clutching him by the collar of his shirt and had an arm around his left one. White, meanwhile, was tugging him from behind by yanking on his shirt. Colin had his eyes trained on Fife and paid them no mind, although he stopped struggling and briskly pushed both Cho and White off him.

“If you ever speak about Penelope again, if you so much as breathe in her direction, I will break more than just your nose, Fife.” He straitened his clothes and looked with a sort of detached air to the trio in front of him. Cho and White were now kneeling by Fife’s side trying to get a better look at his bleeding nose.

“I’ll go get a teacher!” Cho shouted, but before he could get up, Colin clicked his tongue.

“Go on, then.” He smiled and he could see Cho and White gulp. “Although, I think they’ll find it quite intriguing when I also tell them about the pack of fags and those magazines in your locker.”

“You-! How do you even!”

It was Colin’s turn to laugh.

“You brag about stuff for all to hear and then act surprised people know what you’re up to?” Cho and White were looking a little green in the face. “I suggest you start making your way out before somebody else comes by.” His grin disappeared and the physically unharmed boys quickly switched to getting Fife up. Colin stepped aside to let them through.

“Don’t think this is over, Bridgerton.” Even with blood running down his face and a swollen eye Fife wouldn’t back down. Colin wasn’t impressed.

“Remember your last name.” Fife opened his mouth but before he could answer, Colin spoke. “Now, remember mine.” The stormy blue of Colin’s eyes met Fife’s battered one and he saw how the comment struck its mark in Fife’s overinflated ego. Colin wasn’t one to use his family’s name, but it was the one thing he knew would get Fife to shut up and keep to himself. Standing was everything to him and while his name ranked high in the social hierarchy, there were few above Bridgerton and his wasn’t one of them.

“Come on, mate. Let’s go!” Cho was looking jumpier the longer they lingered and Colin just wanted them gone.

“You should listen to him.” Colin said and smiled lightly again and the unnerving contrast wasn’t lost on the boys who were now clinging to one another. “Bell’s about to ring and we wouldn’t want to cause a scene, would we?”

Fife stared at him for a moment longer before White pushed all three of them forward. “Forget it! We need to get out of here!”

Colin saw them round the corner just as the bell rang behind him and students started pouring out just a few minutes later.

“This is why boys shouldn’t be allowed anywhere in public!” He heard Eloise’s voice tremble with anger. “C’mon, don’t be so upset. You can come to my house for lunch and we can watch a movie before you have to leave.”

Colin turned around and felt his heart break and his hand tingle with the need to make Fife’s eyes match.

Penelope’s cheeks were red and she was looking anywhere but up. He knew she was trying not to cry and Eloise had her left hand in her right while looking at the redhead in concern.

“Pen.” Colin said as they were about to pass by him. Watery, startled eyes snapped to his. “Pen…” He repeated and reached a hand out. Penelope’s eyes widened further.

“Colin! Oh gosh, what happened to you?!” Colin had to blink back surprise as Penelope’s sadness was replaced by concern… for him.

“What?” He said a little incredulously as he snapped his hand back.

“Your hand!” Penelope let go of Eloise’s hand and snatched his up, unfolding his fingers. “Jesus, Colin, are you alright?”

“What?” He said again, like an idiot.

“Did you hit your head as well?” Eloise said, her tone harsh but her eyes worried while looking at his hand and that’s when he looked down too.

His knuckles were split, already starting to bruise and blood to clot. It was also quite painful; he didn’t voice it though.

“I’m alright.” He said, eyes trained on Penelope’s face and the feeling of her delicate fingers brushing gently around his opened skin. “Just had a bad fall while coming down the stairs.”

“What? Isn’t it instinctual to open your hands? How’re your knuckles like that?” Eloise said, incredulousness coloring her tone.

“I was carrying my laptop. Didn’t want to drop it.” He lied easily. Penelope bought it. Eloise looked unconvinced but didn’t question him more.

“You should go to the nurse’s office.” Penelope said, tugging him gently by the tips of his fingers. An indescribably warm feeling filled his chest the longer she fussed about him. He turned his hand and held her back by the wrist, her blue eyes snapped back to his.

“I’ll take care of it once we’re back home. C’mon, I want to get some ice cream.” His hand slid from her wrist to her hand and he held it while gently guiding her out of the school. Her eyes were a little glazed, sparkling as he let herself be led, the angry red of her frustrated blush now a soft pink.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing!” Eloise screamed and yanked Penelope back to herself. Colin yelped in pain and Penelope made a move to go back to him before Eloise held her back. “If he was dumb enough to get hurt that badly, he should be able to handle it.” She proceeded to take the hand he had just been holding and turned to look at him with an air of superiority. “I want mint chocolate. Penelope will have strawberry. You’re paying by the way.” And with that, she started walking while Penelope glanced back at him a little apologetically while trying to make Eloise wait for him.

Colin could feel annoyance replace the warmth of a moment ago before he took a deep breath and started walking alongside them. “I’m sure she’d prefer mango.”

“What? No way. You truly don’t know her.” Eloise rolled her eyes.

Penelope had a mango sorbet and Colin smiled triumphantly at a glaring Eloise a few minutes later. He considered it was a great way to end the day.

-

2

As the years went on, Colin realized his protectiveness was… heightened when it came to Penelope. That wasn’t to say he didn’t care about the other members of his family, but each of the Bridgertons knew that, if something were to happen, they had the backing of 7 siblings and a fierce mother. Penelope had only herself as her eldest sisters were apathetic at best and deliberately cruel at worst, her mother was an overbearing woman with an affinity for posturing and her father was more often bar hopping than at home in order to avoid his wife.

Because of this, he and Eloise took to taking care of Penelope and integrated her into the Bridgerton dynamic as much as possible. The big difference, though, was that while Eloise would make scathing remarks and bite back when she heard or saw someone say something even vaguely insulting to Penelope, Colin took a more hands-on approach.

This actually came as a surprise to himself as he had never been very violent or even prone to altercations, but there was just something about anyone, even if unknowingly, dimming Penelope’s light that turned his stomach and made his blood pump with the need for action. Most of the time he didn’t intervene as, by the time he knew about somebody doing something to her, Eloise had unleashed a tongue-trashing so accurate that person would already be seeking professional counseling or they had been dealt with accordingly by an adult. It didn’t mean he felt satisfied, but he figured nothing good would come of getting involved in something that Penelope considered over and done with.

It wasn’t until he was 17 and preparing for the play the theater club was putting together that he had to take matters into his own hands again.

He had joined the club because Penelope had. She had been so excited to help with script adaptation and production and he’d wanted to be there for her, to see her shine. The year-end play was always big and this year’s was even more so because there had been a competition for an original script to be selected for it. Penelope’s manuscript had won and she’d been swarmed with basically co-directing alongside Mrs. Varley, the theater teacher.

The play was simple enough: a love story between childhood friends who were separated and reunited after years apart. The connecting tissue were the letters they wrote to one another but that they kept missing for one reason or another. They reconnect when the male lead bumps into a common friend and he tells him she is about to get married. It was sweet and heartfelt and Colin couldn’t have been prouder of Penelope when she won. He had spun her around when she’d told him and the way she had clung to him while laughing in his ear was one memory he would treasure for the rest of his life.

Casting had gone underway almost immediately and he had been given the lead role opposite Marina Thompson, a girl a year below him. While he had been thrilled about spending more time with Penelope while working on the play and bringing her character to life, he soon found himself dreading rehearsals as the days went by.

Colin wasn’t stupid nor oblivious, he knew people found him attractive. Ever since the growth spurt that had him surpassing Anthony and almost at eye-level with Benedict hit, he had been on the receiving end of interested gazes and date requests of male and female classmates, older and younger alike. He didn’t care for any of them, though. Most people were either more concerned with the notoriety of dating a Bridgerton or wanted to take his pants off as soon as they were moderately alone; both reasonings had him struggling to not roll his eyes as he was confessed to.

Besides, the fact that Penelope’s eyes flashed in his mind whenever he entertained the idea of dating or that these days it was a conscious effort to not let his own eyes stray to the front of her chest didn’t really help. He tried to ignore most offers or let down people as gently as possible. Some took it well, some not so much and others thought he was a challenge. Marina belonged to this last category.

She hadn’t been overtly about her interest at first. He’d seen her around the club the year prior but she’d been part of the cast while he’d been content with managing stage lightning and helping out with scenography. He’d tried out for the main lead because Penelope had asked him to and when he’d gotten the part, she’d been so happy for him that he couldn’t help but be excited as well. Marina had been polite although her smile had been a touch too wide when they’d been introduced.

As they started practicing scenes however, Colin realized it was going to be tough. Marina was too just too much.

She would hold onto him even as scenes were stopped and tried to engage him in conversation every time they had a break. She’d asked him to rehearse lines after they were done for the day almost every day for three weeks straight and pouted like a wounded child whenever he turned her down; she probably thought she looked cute, he thought she looked rather pathetic. He was well aware that the furthest thing from her mind was actual practicing if the way she fluttered her lashes and bit her bottom lip was any indication.

Colin was more than a little irritated as they entered their fourth week of production. The extra time he thought he’d get with Penelope was practically inexistent. And even when he could have gone to her, Marina would follow him around. It had gotten so bad that he’d taken to sprinting off and hiding somewhere in the utility room just to find some reprieve from her inane chatter and insistent advances.

It was on one such occasion that it happened.

He was sitting down on top of an old prop, catching his breath after basically sprinting from the stage to avoid Marina, when he went to grab his phone from his pocket and found it empty. He patted himself down a little frantically as dawning realization hit that he’d left it outside. He groaned and resigned himself to having to go back and put up with Marina’s presence.

He needed to check his emails. He’d missed school for a couple of days, which included the deadline for the draft of his final English essay, because of a nasty cold. The teacher of said class was an old lady with a rather strict character, Mrs. O’Malley. He had had to submit the summary of his doctor’s visit as well as a handwritten letter from his mother confirming his illness for her to even consider giving him an extension. He was supposed to get an answer by 4 pm that day on whether or not she accepted his excuse and he had to answer no later than 4:30 that he was committed to making the new deadline.

He gingerly made his way out the back of the stage but as he was about to round the main curtain, he heard Marina and Penelope.

“Pen, pleeeease!” Marina said and Colin frowned at the use of the nickname and overly sweet delivery. “Help me out. You’re the only one he listens to.”

“That’s because he’s my friend.” Penelope’s tone was a little annoyed and that already had alarm bells going off in Colin’s head. She rarely let anything get to her nowadays. “If Colin wants to talk to you or rehearse outside of the club’s hours that’s his choice to make. I can’t make him do it.” Colin’s heart stung as he realized he was the “friend” Penelope was talking about but it quickly smoothed over at the way she spoke, how well she knew him.

“Tsk, you’re really trying to make this difficult, aren’t you?” Marina’s voice had gone from fake-sweet to downright bitchy.

“Excuse me?” Colin could just picture Penelope’s frown mirroring his own.

“You’ve always hogged him.” Marina said derisively. “You just follow him around with the most pathetic look in your eyes. Do you really think nobody knows what you’re doing?” Colin’s fingers curled into fists the more Marina talked and his mind began to cloud over.

“We’ve been friends for years. Have you considered that maybe you’re just not interesting enough?” Penelope shot back and Colin felt a surge of pride run through his body. “It’s not my fault you’ve been as forgettable outside the stage as much as you’re on it.” Colin’s fists relaxed a little at that and he let his lips curl into a little smile. That was his Penelope, smart, little firecracker that she was.

Marina’s voice was outraged now. “Oh, you think you’re so much better than me “Mrs. director”? You’ve been in the shadows of every production because there’s nowhere else you could fit.” Colin stepped forward very carefully, just so he could see with his left eye past the curtain. Marina had her back to him while Penelope was looking up at her, tiny fists clenched and a yelp leaving her lips as Marina drove a finger into her chest. “I may have been a supporting character, but at least I was on stage, under the lights, under his light.” He could just see the way Penelope’s jaw clenched.

“You’ve kept him hidden because you knew the moment he stepped outside your orbit he’d see how utterly plain you are, how there’s nothing to see.” Colin could feel Marina’s fate seal itself as she continued her tirade. “Have you taken a look in the mirror lately?” Marina laughed and Penelope shrunk in on herself. “This “friendship” of yours is simply a childish fantasy. Grow up, Penelope, if it wasn’t because you basically act as barrier between him and everybody else, he wouldn’t even know your name. Boys like Colin are never interested in girls like you.” He saw as Penelope took a step back from Marina.

“Colin’s not like that.” Penelope’s voice was small and Marina pounced on it.

“Please, all boys are like that. Maybe if you dropped a few and got some of the personality you give your characters you might be able to entertain the idea of him. I, on the other hand, am what he’s missing.” Marina’s stance was cocky, hands on her hips and chin tilted up. “Do us both a favor, no, him, and steer him in the right direction, yeah? Tell him I’ll be waiting for him after rehearsal’s done.” She tapped two fingers to Penelope’s cheek and Colin wanted to break them. “Thanks, Mrs. Director.” With that, she sauntered off stage and out the auditorium.

Colin saw as Penelope hung her head and two tears landed on the floor. He wanted to run to her, but he wasn’t sure if she would appreciate it so he remained partially hidden. She took a deep breath, composing herself, her face was splotchy and she rubbed at it before turning and making her way out. Colin was just glad nobody else had been privy to Marina’s spectacle.

His head was a mess. He felt the same rage of three years prior when he’d heard Fife talk abhorrently about Penelope but even more intense as he was present while this worthless girl made Penelope, sweetest, loveliest Penelope, think she was anything but wonderful. And what was worse was that Marina couldn’t have been further from the truth. The one who hogged was him, the one that jealously and zealously acted as a barrier between the world and Penelope was him. He guarded her brilliance and did his damn best to outshine everyone else in all things she deemed important so that her eyes didn’t stray from him.

He made his way over to his phone by the stage’s edge and as he bent down to take it, he saw that it was just to the side of two little water drops: Penelope’s tears. As ice ran down his spine he took a decision. Marina had to pay and it couldn’t wait. He touched the tears with the tips of his fingers and curled them lightly as he brought them to his lips and kissed them gently. He closed his eyes and let the salty moisture cover his mouth as an idea formed in his mind.

-

“You can head home without me.” He said a while later to Penelope and he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

“Oh, okay. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I just have an appointment with Mrs. O’Malley’s.” It wasn’t even a lie. He just had other things to do before that he couldn’t tell her about.

“Ah!” Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Did she give you an extension?”

He smiled gently and said the truth. “Yup, I just need to go over some things with her. I shouldn’t take long, but you can never be too sure with her and I don’t want you to stay even later because of me.”

“Text me when you’re on your way home, yeah?” Her eyes softened and he felt himself relax. Even if he knew she didn’t know what he was about to do, he took the sparkle he so loved in her eyes as her approval, her blessing.

“And you text me when you get home, okay?” He gave her a lopsided grin and that rosy blush made itself known just as he knew it would.

“Sure. See you, Colin.” She waved and walked away. He saw as she rounded the corner of the hallway before he made his way back to the auditorium.

Marina’s startled eyes greeted him as he opened the doors before a smile split her face. “Colin!”

“Marina.” He forced himself to smile back as she waved a piece of paper from her place at center stage.

“So, Pen did tell you.” She fluttered her lashes when he was close enough to notice and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Penelope hadn’t actually said anything, which annoyed him, because she should be able to confide in him. He needed to work on that.

“Tell me what?” He cocked his head in mock confusion. “I’ve just been struggling with the confession scene and since you’ve been offering to practice…” He smirked in a flirty way that had Marina flushing and giggling and his stomach turning. Disgusting.

“Oh, well…” She paused trying to look for an excuse, Colin really wanted to get this over with quickly. “It’s nothing.” She walked over to him as he made his way to her, her hand going for his bicep; he had to very consciously not draw back. “Should we get started?”

He took her hand and spun her, a delighted laugh filling the empty auditorium, and guided her to center stage once more. “Stay here, I want to have the lights on us, okay?” He said lowly and saw as her eyes shone in pleasure.

“Sure, don’t take too long, Col.” Gosh, he really couldn’t stand her.

“Be back in a sec.” He winked at her and turned to go backstage and up the light strip up top. His smile dropped the moment he could no longer see her and he swiftly started climbing the steps.

The old reflectors were still in good enough shape to be used but they were static and, because of it, a hassle to handle since they all had to be manually controlled. The theater club wasn’t a priority in the school’s budget and even after Colin had reported that some of them were hanging by a thread, literally and metaphorically, they hadn’t been changed. The one just to the left of center stage had had its connecting wires eaten away along with two others during a rodent infestation two years before.

There had been no space to store them and Mrs. Varley hadn’t wanted to trash them since even if they didn’t work, they were part of “the stage’s visual aesthetic”, according to her. The faulty lights were perched on a ledge, as were all others, and had been a non-issue since they were all marked so anyone who went up there could easily identify them.

“Col, are you done yet?” Marina’s voice drifted upwards and he bristled at the nickname.

“Can you step a little to the left? I want to get this just right.” He said lightly and saw as Marina appeared just below the precariously positioned reflector.

“Here?” She asked as she tilted her face up to try and look at him.

“Perfect.” He said and saw her smile at the word he used and then faced down to look at her phone. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” She didn’t look up.

“You’ll always be a forgettable and insignificant shadow under Penelope’s light.” He saw as her eyes shot up and how she was about to open her mouth when the reflector came down upon her.

Marina didn’t scream, didn’t have the time to. He saw it almost in slow motion as her eyes widened, a scream about to leave her throat before metal and glass collided with her face. She crumbled to the ground and he felt a sense of deep satisfaction surge through him. He rapidly made his way downstairs and admired his handywork.

A pool of blood was forming around Marina’s head with shards glinting in it, her neck bent at an unnatural angle. Colin smiled as he saw the scared and mangled expression that would forever be the last she ever wore. The bone peeking where the glass had first made impact and opened her skull and broken her nose was a stark contrast to the already purpling skin. It looked gross and painful and he felt his insides brimming with joy. Marina would never hurt Penelope again. He wished he could stay longer, but knew it would be more than a little risky.

He took the note she had dropped and where he’d written he would meet her afterwards but to not tell anybody. Her phone was unlocked still and he went through her messages using her hand quickly. She had actually listened to him and he was sure she hadn’t mentioned meeting him later to any of the others since he’d stayed within earshot after leaving the note under her phone just before rehearsals resumed. Colin dropped her hand in disgust, put the note in his pocket and left the auditorium through the main door after picking his backpack up.

He had a spring in his step as he made his way to Mrs. O’Malley’s office with 10 minutes to spare.

-

The school had descended into chaos a bit after Marina’s death but, in the end, it had been ruled as an unfortunate accident. Colin wished he could’ve taken credit, but he only answered the questions the police asked him about the report he’d filed about the faulty reflectors. Penelope’s play had been pushed back by a month and the board had replaced all of the lights with screw-in stand ins that were remotely controlled to prevent anything like what had happened from happening again along with professional stage mics. In Colin’s opinion, it had been a win-win situation for everyone involved.

On the day the play premiered, the show was dedicated to Marina, a fact that Colin wasn’t too happy about. Still, he closed his eyes during the minute of silence in her honor and replayed the sound of her head being smashed in. Afterwards, he looked for Penelope, gave her a bouquet of red roses and felt warmth spread through his body as quickly as her blush covered her cheeks. “Congrats, Pen. Everyone loved it.”

She had been shaken after what had happened with Marina, but the stress of the term ending and the play still moving forward was enough to distract her. Colin had known in that moment, as horror filled her eyes after getting the news, that she could never know about what he was capable of doing. Penelope deserved to exist within a world untainted by his darkness. He knew it wasn’t normal that he enjoyed the other person’s fear, the planning, the result. It was all for her but that didn’t mean she would appreciate it. He could bask in her light, soak up the softness of her smiles and fill his brain with the dopamine that only her praise could ignite but he was certain those privileges would be taken away if she were to find out.

That was something else Marina had been wrong about. It was Colin keeping Penelope partly in the shadows, not the other way around. His greed for her allowed for her to see the luminescence of the world without fully stepping into it as he was afraid it would be enough to lure her from his side. He knew it was selfish and was trying to not tie her too tightly to himself, but with each passing day the temptation to just shield her from everything grew ever stronger. The fact that he knew there were more Fifes and Marinas out there waiting to snuff Penelope’s light with lies and empty words was enough to ignite the murderous fire he knew lay dormant just beneath the surface of his skin.

Penelope’s small arms wrapped around his waist, her head against his chest and her ear resting just below his heart effectively bringing him out of his thoughts. “Thank you, Colin! They’re gorgeous! You were astonishing out there.”

His arms immediately went around her and he squeezed her for a few seconds before tilting his head back so he could look into her eyes. She had that little glazed look and Colin knew he would do whatever it took to never lose it.

“Thank you for trusting me with your main lead.” Penelope’s smile in response was brilliant and Colin’s heart felt full.

-

3

Colin was in his third year of uni when he had to take care of things once more.

He was procrastinating a Global Marketing essay when the door to his flat flew open and in came a red, tear-streaked faced Penelope Featherington. The curse he was about to let out died on his tongue once he saw the state of her and he opened his arms in invitation; she immediately went to him. She curled her body to his side and buried her face in crook of his neck. He let his head rest on top of hers as one arm went around her waist and the other traced a soothing pattern up and down her back.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to calm her down. “Hey, you’re okay. Breathe, Pen.” She buried her face deeper into the collar of his sweater and even as he felt awful for her, he couldn’t help but also feel deeply satisfied.

After Eloise had decided to study in Glasgow instead of London, the door to Penelope’s attention had been left open and Colin had wasted no time making his way in. While his sister and the little redhead remained the very best of friends, he was now the one she went to when something was bothering her or when she wanted to spend some time unwinding after a difficult day; a Friday night movie marathon followed by a weekend sleepover was so common he gave her a key to his flat after the first few times it happened. He had also always been touchy with Penelope, but the added intimacy of now being her closest friend still made his heart soar with how she would now seek his touch out too.

Their relationship remained strictly platonic, however, a fact born out of fear and self-preservation. Colin loved Penelope, he had basically from the moment he saw her and was so in a love by this point that he couldn’t even remember what it felt like not to love her. He also knew that he was special to her, she wouldn’t be here otherwise, but the reality was that she had never given him a sign of wanting more, not that he would have taken it anyways. This last statement wasn’t because of a lack of interest or desire but the certainty that if he were to allow himself to have her, he would snuff her light out.

His possessive streak hadn’t gotten better as more time had gone by but actually gotten worse. He was very aware that the only reason he hadn’t already taken and hidden her away was because he was sure that wasn’t something she would ever want nor that she even remotely deserved. Penelope was meant for the light of the world, her brilliance too big and important to be bottled and guarded out of sight.

He knew she had big dreams of finally fleshing out the stories in her head into proper novels, being recognized for her talent and getting her mother to finally acknowledge her efforts. However, he was sure that if he ever got a taste of her, he would not be able to control himself and would devour her, never letting her out of his sight again. He would mark her skin so often his ownership would never be questioned, a brand of his love in the shape of his teeth in her inner thighs always.

Colin would lose what little was left of his mind if he were to give himself over to Penelope and while he would like nothing more, if he did, she was too smart and would, eventually, find out about what he’d done and what he would be doing again. He couldn’t bear to destroy the image she had of him in her mind. He was kind, giggly, excitable Colin to her and that Colin wasn’t a lie but his darker, twisted side that had to remain shrouded just outside her field of vision was real as well. The sweetness was as much part of him as the blood-thirst that made itself known as soon as somebody caused her enough harm as to alter her usual countenance. Knowing her, she would blame herself for the things he’d done and Colin couldn’t stand the notion of her thinking she was responsible for the things he did entirely of his own volition and had even derived satisfaction from doing.

So, he took the warmth of her body and mind in whichever capacity she was willing to give and gave it back tenfold while basking in the illusion of being each other’s a few seconds at a time like a coward. Gaining her heart for a while in exchange for the very real possibility of striking his place in her life forever by potentially exposing the darkness within him? No, that wasn’t even an option worth considering. She was his idol, his goddess, and he knew his place was at her feet worshiping and admiring. He was already trespassing boundaries he’d said he’d never cross, but he had never been too good at denying her and it had only gotten worse as he realized he loved her. His heart just needed to make do with what was one the table and stop hurting every time he remembered she wasn’t his.

“I hate him.” Penelope mumbled into his chest and Colin strained to understand her. “Stupid assignments for this stupid, useless class with ridiculously high-grades. I just need this term to be over already.” She punctuated her words with a light smack against his chest and his right went to the back of her neck and applied a little pressure. She let out a soft sigh, melted into him and his heart gave a painful, if pleased, thump.

“What happened?” Colin’s tone was gentle, coaxing. His hand continued to massage her neck, fingers digging a little below the neckline of her cashmere blouse. He could feel as a shiver traveled through her and he had to resist the urge to dip his fingers lower.

“Fucking Johnson.” Penelope said bitterly while disentangling from him, Colin lamented the loss of her heat but kept one arm around her. “This stupid fucking assignment’s deadline wasn’t until next Friday. Do you know what this old as fuck asshole just did?!” Her voice grew in pitch the more she talked and her eyes reddened again. “He moved the fucking deadline to THIS FRIDAY! THAT’S TWO DAYS FROM NOW, COLIN! TWO!” She was basically screaming in his ear but he didn’t let go because he knew she was on the way to another breakdown.

“I’ve still got half of the material left to read and I’ve other assignments to finish. He didn’t even give an explanation for the change! I just got an email saying the turn in date had been modified in the platform!” A sob was making her choke up. “I… I… I’m going to fail.” The tears started streaming down her face again and he couldn’t have not pulled her in again for a hug. She clung to him like a lifeline. “I know… listen, I know…” She buried her face in his shoulder now. “I know his wife just died and it’s been hard, but must… must he… must he really make it everyone’s problem?” She sank her nails in his chest and now the one with shivers down his spine was him, as out of place as it was. “It’s not like I killed her!”

“Pen, hey, Pen… Look at me.” Colin brought a hand to the side of her face to turn it towards his. Even with red, puffy eyes and a runny nose she was so beautiful it hurt to look at her. “I got you, okay?” His hand went to the back of her neck once again and he held it there as he brought their foreheads together; his eyes stayed open even as hers closed on a shuddering breath. “You’re staying the night.” She startled and moved to put space between them but he held fast, his hand on her neck unmoving. “Stay.” He said a little more firmly and he saw as his voice penetrated her fog of anxiety.

“Okay.” She whispered as her body relaxed and her eyes went soft, glazing over as he stared her down.

This, this was why he was an addict. His chest felt twice its size when she looked at him like that, like he was the sun and not the other way around. When her blue eyes reflected only him and her breath came quiet as if he alone could give her respite. Even amid her stress, her anger, she still had a look like that reserved for him and that was everything, meant everything, she was everything. His hold relaxed and he stood up while taking her with him.

“You need to sleep.” He could feel her tense again. “Knowing you, even before the expedited deadline, you were already pulling all-nighters. You need to rest. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“It’s not even 6 yet…” She mumbled. “I could still get some more reading done, maybe even start on the analysis of what I’ve read so far.”

“Stop.” Colin’s voice hardened again and he stepped in front of her making her look up. By god, he loved how tiny she was in comparison to him. “You’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster even before you came through my door. You’ll just work yourself into an even bigger knot, get frustrated nothing’s coming out how you want it to or that you’re not reading as much as you wish and you’ll spiral again.” She flinched and hung her head at his, correct, assessment and he immediately softened. He needed her to calm down not change from stressed to unnecessarily guilty. “Come on. Rest. You’ve got a late start tomorrow anyways. Sleep now and wake up early tomorrow, I’ll help you out.” Her eyes shot up to his and he gave her a small smile. “Tomorrow, I’ll help you out tomorrow.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just guided her by the hand to the guest room. She didn’t say anything more either.

-

A while later, Penelope was fast asleep in the satin sheets Colin had bought specially for her after she’d stayed over the first time. She had taken a shower and borrowed one of shirts (a sight he hadn’t seen in a long time and one that had his pulse kicking into overdrive while he mentally beat his libido back into submission). Her exhausted eyes had been heavy as she drank the chamomile tea he brewed and she had passed out shortly after.

Colin looked at his phone: 6:37 pm.

He changed out of his jogger pants and baggy shirt and into jeans, a high-neck shirt, plain black hoodie and trainers. He checked on Penelope once more before taking his less used backpack out of the utility closet and put his wallet, phone, gloves and keys in and out the door he went.

His pace was brisk as he still needed to make a stop by B&Q before he made his way to the university. Professor Johnson had always been an unpopular choice amongst the student body. Economics was already bottom of the line for most but he made it even more unbearable. His harsh personality and even stricter deadlines inspired fear among many and so those who took the class with him were the ones who either forgot assignment day, every other professor had run out of spots or they had had a delay in payment and he was the only available option by the time they were able to log back into the university’s platform. Penelope belonged to this last category.

She was brilliant and had gotten a scholarship, just not a full one. Her family’s financial situation wasn’t what it used to be and it showed in the way she was always stressed when pay day came and her mother hadn’t made the deposit yet. She would bite her nails and pace and it wasn’t until Colin forced her to sit down and rewatch either The Holiday or Pride & Prejudice with a cup of tea that she would breathe without seeming as if she didn’t have enough air. Portia would eventually make the payment at the last second and Penelope would be out like a light the moment she got the confirmation email.

He knew how important Penelope’s studies were to her and he would’ve offered to pay if he wasn’t sure she would hate that; the chance of his mom refusing to sponsor Penelope was slim to none and he wouldn’t mind dipping into his inheritance either. However, he knew she would see it as pity instead of his, or his family’s, honest desire to support her, so he saw as month in and out she self-imploded while waiting for that deposit to drop.

As a consequence, she had gotten a freelance position writing pieces on pop-culture and the entertainment industry for a small newspaper twice weekly and took on whatever other small side-gigs she could fit into a full schedule. She covered her commuting, meals outside her house and what little remained would go as an advanced payment towards university fees. She hoped that by reducing the amount to pay it would encourage her mother to pay the remainder sooner; sometimes it did, but most often it didn’t.

On the other hand, when they went out she almost always refused to let him pay and he could see how buying her things made her uncomfortable more often than not. He had had to get creative and find ways to spoil her in a manner that didn’t seem like he was doing it. Inviting her to his flat and ordering takeout before she got there while making sure his pantry was full had been a great way to do it. He’d say her mention of something made him crave it and that’s why he’d picked it up on the way home. The glint in her eyes the first time it happened let him know that she knew what he was doing but her eyes had softened as he had proudly presented her with her favorite snacks.

The tube ride after securing the rope at B&Q was around forty minutes. It was closer to 8 as he left the station while pulling the hoodie’s cap over his head and his shirt’s collar higher over his face. As he walked the ten minutes from the station to the university’s entrance, he could see lights all over as the library was open until 10 and the last lectures for the day would be finishing up at around 9. He needed to be done before that.

He took the longer route by the library and down a path few students used to get to the back of the Economics building. As the oldest piece of infrastructure on campus it was rather isolated compared to the rest and had suffered severely from the uncommonly harsh rain that year; the roof partially caving in a couple of weeks ago. The fifth, and last, floor had flooded while leaks sprouted everywhere in lower levels. And while most of the staff and students had temporarily been relocated to either the Business or Law buildings some professors had chosen to stay. One of them was Johnson and he always stayed late.

Colin stopped for a moment as he stepped inside the main floor to take out the rope and tie a noose. It was a little difficult with gloves on but they were a necessary precaution. Once it was done, he put it back into his backpack without zipping it all the way and continued making his way up the stairs. The security system had always been pretty obsolete and after the flooding and leaks it had been completely turned off. The logic behind that particular decision being that nothing ever happened and the building was basically deserted so new equipment could wait until after the repair work was done.

Still, the university’s officials had tried everything to get the 76-year-old man out of the building during the reparation process but he had raged against it. Johnson’s wife had died of a heart attack in the middle of the night and the already difficult professor had become completely unbearable as his grief consumed him. He would yell at students for the smallest things, storm out in a fit and hole up in his office until the last possible minute.

Colin knocked on the door with the professor’s name on it and heard a groan and then a chair rolling accompanied by steps. He lowered his collar and pulled back his hoodie’s cap.

“Bridgerton?” The old man’s face was pale, gaunt and had a permanent scowl. The ever-present dark circles under his eyes now looked like twin black eyes while his cheeks sunk into his face. Truly, Colin was about to do him a favor. “What do you want?”

“I’ve got some papers from Mrs. Gallawy. A final signature for the safety wave?” Colin had been volunteering at the admin offices since his first year and Mrs. Gallawy was the main secretary there. A middle-aged woman who made eyes at him and would answer all his questions after a hot, hazelnut latte was placed on her desk along with a charming smile.

“I thought I had signed all of the paperwork already!” A vein popped-off on the side of Johnson’s forehead and Colin wanted nothing more than for this to be over. “I signed five documents last week!”

“I was assured this is the last one, there was a missing page on the one you signed. It shouldn’t even take a minute.” His tone was polite and he made sure to maintain a neutral face.

“Fine.” Johnson spat out. “Come in.” He turned around and Colin pounced.

His hand had already been reaching behind himself before Johnson’s back was fully facing him. He dropped his backpack as he took the rope and put the noose around the old man’s neck and tightened it just so it rested snug against it.

“Now, there’s something I need you to do for me before we’re done here, okay?” Colin’s voice was low, dark and firm. “Nod your head if you understand.” Johnson nodded and Colin smiled. “Excellent, let’s get you seated, professor.”

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d heard about the wave from Mrs. Gallawy. As it so happened, he heard many things from the secretary. When he’d realized that just because Penelope refused help didn’t mean he had to remain in the dark about her financial struggles, he had approached the admin offices. If Penelope’s studies ever were in true jeopardy, Mrs. Gallawy knew that the Bridgertons had always been generous donors. A grant would be sent her, and a few others for the sake of not being too obvious, way under the name of the university’s fund for academic excellence.

However, he didn’t only ask for information, he also listened to older lady. She more often than not blabbered on about everything and nothing but she had been in a knot the last couple of weeks. Three people had insisted on staying in the Economics building and getting them to sign agreements stating that they acknowledged the risk factor and absolved the university if anything were to happen to them during the repairs had been going well until Johnson. He had gone so far as to lock his office door and refuse entry saying his verbal agreement should be enough.

He'd finally accepted to do the signing and Mrs. Gallawy had been in near tears of relief as he left her desk and Colin had presented her with her favorite pastry. Colin should’ve taken more time planning, but he knew enough and time was of essence. Penelope wouldn’t be ruined by an old-man with a lost mind. He maintained a firm grip on the noose as Johnson sat down and Colin instructed him to unlock his laptop and open his account in the university’s platform.

“You’re going to send a message to everyone in your Introduction to Economics class saying the change of deadline was a mistake, that you were trying to change the turn in time and didn’t notice that what you’d changed was the date.” Johnson’s fingers were steady as he typed and Colin was a little impressed by his composure. “Say that, to make up for it, you’re extending the deadline until Monday the week after the initial one.” Colin’s eyes didn’t leave the laptop as the professor finished writing and he was surprised to note a little apology at the end of the message before Johnson hit send.

“Good. Now change the date on the assignment.” Johnson did it. “Stand up and turn around slowly.” Not a word was uttered by the old man. They were now facing the large window behind the desk. “Open the window.” Johnson opened it fully and finally spoke.

“Tie the end on one of the desk’s legs.”

“What?” Colin’s tone was confused even as his grip on the noose tightened. He felt more than heard Johnson gulp against the rope.

“Tie the end of the rope to one of the desk’s legs.” He repeated slowly. “It’s cemented in, it will hold.” Colin didn’t move for a second, then turned to see if what Johnson was saying was true.

It was.

“Hurry, I imagine time’s of essence. I won’t move.” Colin debated with himself for a few seconds more before moving, his time was running and he needed to be out to by the time the last batch of students was leaving so he could blend in with the crowd.

“Step back, don’t turn.” He told the older man. Johnson’s hands never strayed from his sides as he did as he was told. Colin quickly bent down and did a tight knot around the nearest desk leg. He gave it a pull and when it held, he stood back up. Johnson felt as Colin’s hand went back to holding the noose by the base and spoke again as he moved towards the window.

“I’m going to sit on the ledge and you can push me. I’m too much of a coward to do it myself.” A tired and self-deprecating chuckle resonated in the office. “There’s a letter in the top right-hand drawer, leave it beside my laptop. Also, take the pills that are in there.” Colin felt his eyes widen at each word uttered. The professor was now sitting on the ledge just as he said he would. “Come on, I’m ready.”

Colin pushed him.

He turned around and opened the drawer Johnson had told him as the struggle sounds quieted behind him. He made sure not to wrinkle the letter as he picked it up. It was handwritten, short, and, in it, he apologized for his deliberate maliciousness and the added stress he knew he had put on all of the students and staff members around him. He talked about the hollow feeling after his wife had left and how he was ready to join her. His signature at the bottom closed it out.

Colin placed it carefully on the desk and took the bottle of pills still inside the drawer and looked at his phone: 8:28 pm. He pulled his collar up, the hoodie’s cap on, picked up his backpack, shoved the pills inside and quickly made his way downstairs. He went out back, saw the dark silhouette of Johnson’s body dangling from up high and slowed down to a normal pace. As he left the Economics building behind, he pondered on how the loss of his wife had taken the old professor to the extreme, why he had been on that ledge even before Colin had thought of it.

Death in relation to Penelope was unthinkable, unimaginable. Just the thought of her being gone had his heart threatening to stop, ice running uncomfortably through his body. And so, he banished the thought from his mind and concentrated on, well, Penelope. He hoped the space he’d given her was enough to let her go back to normal. He would still offer a hand but he knew he most likely was going to be turned down now that her main timeline was back on track even if she didn’t know it yet. He smiled a little at that.

As he rounded a corner and the library was visible, the first wave of the last people on campus started making their way outside. It was a cold night and most everyone was bundled up in some way or another. Colin made his way to the exit without a hitch.

-

“Colin!” He woke up with start as the door to his room burst open for the second time in less than 24 hours by the same culprit. “Colin! Colin! Colin! Colin!”

He was still trying to make sense of his surroundings, he was a heavy sleeper, when he found himself with a lapful of Penelope. She was straddling his hips and her arms went under and around his neck. His own went around her middle and, for a few blissful seconds, he was in heaven as her curls spilled across his face and they settled chest to chest.

“Hey, what’s up?” His tone was raspy from sleep and he felt as she tensed a second before slipping to his side. He immediately missed the weight of her.

“Johnson changed the deadline!” She shoved her phone into his face and he had to close his eyes. “Oh, sorry.” She giggled and he couldn’t help it, he dragged her back into his arms. He would blame it on his sleep-fogged brain later.

“I’m guessing he gave you an extension?” Colin buried his face the curls at the top of her head and sighed dreamily as she cuddled into him with both arms against his chest and her face at the base of his neck.

“He gave us three extra days from the original deadline!” She said excitedly and his heart felt full at the relief and happiness in her voice. “I’m still planning on following my original plan but this actually gives me room to breathe.” He felt as she shakily exhaled and felt goosebumps erupt across his skin. He hugged her tighter.

“I’m glad, although I’m still open to giving you a hand if you need me to.” He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I’m always here if you need me, Pen.”

Her eyes had always been his favorite part of her appearance, that endless blue that dragged him into a hazy, trance-like state that only she could evoke. He was powerless against them and wished he could stare into them for the rest of his life. Just then, one of her hands moved and caressed the side of his face.

“You’ve already done so much for me.” He was fighting the urge to let out a satisfied grumble at her petting. “Letting me crash your afternoon, being front row to my meltdown and then helping me calm down? Colin, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Penelope Featherington was going to be the death of him, surely. The way she could play his heart like a fiddle was no joke. His self-control was hanging by a thread and with every word she picked at it. He could feel his jaw dropping a little and his vision swam from how sweet she was, how utterly perfect. The dust of pink on her face actually deepened the longer he stared, travelling further down and he was powerless against following its descent.

Her blush dipped and disappeared at the edge of the light blue material of his shirt that stretched tight across her chest. He usually tried not to, but he was floating in a bubble of warmth, closeness, and Penelope and he couldn’t help but think about how big her breasts were, how he was sure that she would spill if he were to cup her. She was also so soft. Her skin plump from sleep and excitement. His fingers unconsciously dug the tiniest bit into her back and her little exhale had him shutting his mouth with a click and his body’s temperature rising. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to leave the imprints of his hands upon her hips, map her legs with his tongue, bruise her lips with his teeth.

The urge to kiss, to touch, to show her he loved her was so overwhelming he had to close his eyes for a second before he answered. She made him feel so much. Needed, loved, proud and in turn needy, desperate, in love. A duality of which the high was worth every second of the inevitable crashing descent. This was what the people who had died by his hand had taken from him, even if momentarily, and he couldn’t think of a single reason they didn’t deserve it when Penelope spoke to and looked at him like this afterwards. She had him completely at her mercy and she didn’t even know it, goddammit.

“That was nothing, Pen.” He gulped as he opened his eyes and brought his forehead to hers, speaking into the small space between them, cozy and intimate. “It really was nothing at all.” Her eyes had gone velvet soft, and he was just about to lean in and leap off the edge when she wrinkled her nose.

“Your breath stinks.” She laughed at him and he took the pillow under his head and hit her square in the face before he rolled out of bed. “Oh my god, Colin, you should’ve seen your face!”

“Who was the one who came in and interrupted my sleep? I’m sorry my breath wasn’t minty fresh.” His tone was playful even if he still felt a little rattled. However, as the sound of her laughter followed him into the loo, he put it out of his mind and laughed alongside her.

Mornings with Penelope had always been his favorites after all.

-

4

Ever since that first altercation with Fife, it had taken years in between each for Colin’s body count to rise. Penelope’s calm personality and high problem-solving ability didn’t really lend itself to igniting his more violent nature very often. It also wasn’t like he spent most of his time looking for somebody to kill, it just so happened to be the most efficient way to deal with inconvenient people. Furthermore, all of the previous times had happened because someone had done something to Penelope: they had insulted or inconvenienced her in a major way. His actions had been prompted by his need to protect and help her.

This time, however, his motivation was pure and unbridled jealousy and it was happening less than six months after his last.

His day had been pleasant enough. It was half-way through the term so there was a lull in things to turn in as most of it was dedicated to planning and preparing for final deadlines. He’d had a pretty successful group meeting for his Global Issues class and was confident in the way his group was approaching the proposed case study. He had talked to his mom for a few minutes before lunch and given a suggestion for aperitives for her annual Easter brunch. Soon after, his afternoon lecture had been cancelled and so he was back home on an otherwise unremarkable Thursday at little before 5 pm.

He knew Penelope had Thursdays off so he texted her thinking she could come over and watch a movie or just have a nice home-cooked dinner together. She was always out and about not only because of how many things she had to do, but also because she avoided going back home as much as possible given that her mother would throw barely disguised insults at either her appearance or career choice at any given opportunity.

Honestly, his hands itched to permanently install her in his flat so she wouldn’t have to deal with any of that. If she were to live with him, she would be closer to university and Colin would have her in his space 24/7. Just the idea of being able to pamper her, of having her things mix with his, traces of her scattered around for him to find, to treasure… She would smell of his shampoo, or he of hers, and the pantry would be full of both their cravings. Creating a home of their own, even if just as friends, had him spiraling into a dizzy sort of happiness. A dreamy sigh left his lips as he shook his head along with the fantasies swirling in his brain.

She hadn’t texted him since the morning the day before. Which was unusual given their constant back and forth and his inability to not seek her out.

Colin: Hey, you busy?

Pen: Yeah, kinda.

Pen: Why?

His disappointment was fleeting but intense and he tried to shake it off since he knew how much she dedicated herself to every task... Although, maybe, he could cajole her into taking her work to his flat and spend the night. They could work side by side in silence while a lo-fi beats playlist played in the background with a takeaway box between them. The smile the familiar image conjured up had him rapidly typing back.

Colin: Work or uni?

Colin: You could come by. My living room is your office.

Colin: I’m craving Thai and good company.

There had been nary a time when she had turned him down with the same offer just with a different type of food and that was why, when her response came, he felt a little wrong-footed.

Pen: Neither, I’m going out.

Pen: Sorry.

That wasn’t rare, per se, but she always told him when she was doing something in her free time beforehand. He liked to think she did it so he could monopolize her time. His mind naturally drifting to a reality in which she was as taken by him as he was with her and she would look for ways to be with him whenever she could. He always snapped himself out of that line of thought as that way lied madness, sadness and bitter tasting cowardice. Shaking his head he thought about how this had to either be a girl’s night out with the four girls she’d bonded with in her Sociology class or a group project thing.

Colin: Oh, okay. Who are you going with?

Colin: Are you drinking or is it a study session?

Colin: If it’s the first, remember to not wear heels this time!

While this last message may have seemed out of place, it was to both preserve her physical wellbeing as well as his sanity.

The last time she had gone out she had decided do so in heels. Colin had been waiting for her text telling him she had gotten home when she had called half drunk and giggly about not being able to walk and asking if he could come and pick her up. He had left his flat almost immediately and confirmed the name of the bar she was at as he put on his jacket on his way out. Once he’d gotten there though, he had had to pick his jaw from the floor as his eyes found her silhouette slumped against the bar’s entrance.

Penelope’s dress had been emerald green and clung to her like a second skin, her black heels balanced on two fingers. Her tits were on full display and had his heart in almost cardiac arrest as the bar’s sign illuminated her curves from above and gave her a painting-like look underneath its red glow. He’d wanted to take her there, against the brick wall, in view of anyone who might pass. He had imagined it: her legs around his hips, mouths gasping open, her hands buried in his hair as he lifted her dress as high as it could go and buried his face in her cleavage while rutting against her.

Colin could almost feel the heat that would press against the hardness in his pants, the wet patch that would cover his front. She would pant in his ear and sink her nails in his neck and he would relish her brand like he did the give of her flesh. He was also certain she would be loud, she had to be, he needed her to be, but, if she wasn’t… God, he could always make her be.

And Colin would’ve stood there for a long time imagining all types of lewd scenarios had she then not dropped her heels; the sound of them against the pavement bringing him down to reality.

After taking a couple of deep breaths and swallowing down most of his lust, maneuvering Penelope into a cab had been a pleasant challenge. She had been malleable and completely reliant on him. The alcohol in her system had made it difficult for her to coordinate two steps without attempting to get her face acquainted with the ground but his grip on her side didn’t falter even as one of his hands held her shoes. His hold had been strong enough that he, knowing it was wrong but without being able to help himself, had hoped his fingers had left marks on her waist for her to find later.

He’d wished he could’ve been able to check if bruises had formed on her soft skin. Alas, because she was shit-faced, in no state to consent to anything, totally unaware of his feelings and had no fault in his stupid libido acting up, he had only served as a pillow on the ride to her home and as a crutch as they made their way up the stairs to her room.

The house had been silent, but Colin had still tried his best to get Penelope to be as quiet as possible and not wake anyone; waking Portia in the middle of the night wasn’t an experience he thought fondly of. He’d gently deposited her on her bed and pulled the quilt over her. He knew she would be hungover, so he’d filled the glass on her bedside table and gotten ibuprofen from the drawer in the loo. He’d left silently, wishing he could’ve stayed.

His recollections of her were, usually, detailed and took him a few minutes to go through if nobody was there to snap him out of it; this one even more so as that dress still popped up in his mind from time to time. So, he was a little surprised when he finally emerged from the memory and no new messages lit up his screen. Rather than that, he saw as the three dots that indicated she was writing appeared and disappeared continuously. His insides started to turn and possibilities running through his mind but nothing could’ve prepared him for what he read next.

Pen: I have a date.

Pen: His name is Alfie, we’re having Italian for dinner.

Pen: Raincheck?

He had known, realistically, that at some point, someone, would notice her, would intrigue her enough for her to accept going out. Really, what were the odds that someone like Penelope hadn’t attracted a single stare from either men or women? Smart, beautiful, humble, hardworking. She was a complete package wrapped in a redheaded, blush-prone, sharp-tongued personality with a face that most of the time he couldn’t believe was real.

She was extraordinary in every sense and even if she wasn’t flawless, she was as perfect as he could imagine anyone could be. Certainly, she was better than most people and yet treated everyone with a kindness and respect that few still did. She was accepting and loyal and, hell, he was more often than not amazed that she even talked to him, had deigned him worthy enough to be close to her.

And that was it, wasn’t it? He felt as his grip on his phone tightened and his jaw locked. How come this miserable, faceless, absolutely unremarkable nobody thought he was good enough for her? Penelope deserved nothing but the absolute best and this fuckass twat thought he could provide that better than Colin? No, oh, no, no, no, no. This worthless bastard had another thing coming if he thought Colin would just let him waltz into the most amazing woman’s life just because he happened to not be as blind and stupid as the rest of the world’s population.

Colin: Oh, cool.

Colin: And where are you guys going?

He wished he could’ve feigned delight for her as she was probably looking forward to it, she had accepted the stupid sod’s invitation after all, but he was already exerting as much control over himself as he could to not go to her place and tie her to her bed so she wouldn’t go.

Maybe he could do that, keep her restrained, gagged and safe. She could live off him like he did off her and he would finally be able to show her how much he needed her, how deep his desire ran.

Pen: Well, that’s enthusiastic.

He gritted his teeth and fought back against those last thoughts. His mind was running to the darkest parts of itself and he needed to shut it down. She had a right to explore and decide when, where and with who she explored with. Penelope wasn’t the problem. The problem was the walking trash bag who had the gall to intrude on that, who believed he could fit with her.

His vision was swimming and the blood pumping through his veins felt like it was rushing across his body.

Pen: We’re going to a place in Belfrod called Mia Vita.

He felt a wave of dizziness. Belfrod was in a shady and very nearly forgotten outskirt.

Colin: At what time are you meeting?

She sent a couple of emojis with a raised eyebrow but answered just as fast.

Pen: Around 6:30, I’m getting ready.

Pen: Talk to you later?

He didn’t answer.

-

As Colin nursed his second chai latte, he tried to calm his fraying nerves.

There was a coffee shop to the left and across the street from Mia Vita and he’d gotten there at ten to six. He’d taken residence in a spot by the window that had a descent view from the downtrodden restaurant. The illumination was dim and he knew he wouldn’t be able to see all that much once they went inside, but this was a perfect spot for when he went to take care of business later.

The fact that “they” meant Penelope and another man had him putting his hands under the table and curling them into fists to try and redirect the murderous intent that threatened to overpower him. His trip to Belfrod had been kind of a blur. He had looked up the restaurant as soon as his last question had been answered. He’d quickly changed his clothes, all black from his gloves to his shoes and his waterproof raincoat, April’s rainfalls had been insistent lately, and picked the thinnest, sharpest and largest carving knife from his kitchen. Having put the sheath on it, he’d taken his middle size messenger bag from the hanger by the door and thrown it in with his keys and wallet.

He'd hailed a cab and the ride was over in little over thirty minutes. The driver had taken one look at his face after he’d given him the address and hadn’t said anything else, something for which he was grateful since his head was an absolute mess. If only Penelope had told him earlier about this “date”, he could’ve convinced her not to go. He could’ve enticed her with something better, something worthy of her, not a lesser-known place in a part of town nobody who didn’t live there or wasn’t looking for trouble would go to.

That was also something that was making him feel like his control was about to snap. What kind of absolute idiot took a girl, not to mention Penelope, to a place like that on a first date? Colin wanted to break this dude’s face for how he thought this was in any way, shape or form acceptable.

As he felt his temper rising, he decided to look for the sorry excuse of man that was his target while he got to Belfrod. He went on Instagram and it wasn’t that hard to find him since as soon as he started typing, his username, @aldebling, popped at the top of the search bar since Penelope was following him. He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he tapped on the username. Debling’s profile was… well, it existed, he supposed. More than half of his shots were animals in various degrees of blurriness and Colin was less impressed the more he saw.

His latest post was a selfie at the university’s greenhouse: Remember to water your plants #nature#greenhouse#unilife#wereallgreen#govegan. Colin felt his eye twitch, of course he was vegan. His caption was as dry and bland as the rest of his feed and, most likely, his personality. How in the name of all that was holy did Debling manage to get Penelope to go out with him? Well, he, Colin supposed, wasn’t bad looking, but he didn’t think he was anything to write home about either. Blond, dry wheat-like hair, dull blue eyes and a beard the same color as his hair which made him look like a washed-out, blob without any remarkable features. He looked just like any other random, hippie-like, greens-exclusive eater biologist.

He seemed like the type of guy you would pass by on the street and forget you saw him the next second. Utterly forgettable, destined to wander in the corners of the collective’s sight. However, he’d managed to get Penelope’s attention, her yes. Colin had had to close his eyes once again as he exited the app and let his head fall back on the seat. His brain tingled with the need to know and the agony he was sure would follow if he were to. What had Debling said, how had he said it, what did she see in him, what made her accept? He imagined Debling smiling at Penelope, maybe even paying her a compliment, trying to make himself appear as though he was more interesting than his old-fashioned hair-cut would allow. The display, Colin was sure, had been pathetic but Penelope would’ve smiled back, because she always did to anyone who was kind to her.

His stomach roiled and he swallowed down bile.

This Debling wanted to take Colin’s place, he wanted to take Penelope’s light from him, her gentle voice and comforting presence. A fire blazed in his belly and Colin let it warm him from the inside out. He wanted to play? Colin could play and he wouldn’t only just participate, he would win, he would conquer and he would make Debling see who was the superior option, how he should’ve recognized he had never been and would never be what Penelope deserved.

As he stepped out of the cab after tipping the driver generously, he realized he wouldn’t be able to go inside Mia Vita. The place was simply too small and he would stick out as a lone figure regardless of whichever corner he decided to seat in. It wasn’t a surprise, but he still felt frustration rise within him. Colin looked up at the sky, which was gray and stormy so it didn’t help much, and then turned back to the one-way street to see if there was a place close enough to monitor the restaurant but far enough so he could stay out of sight.

Mile’s Coffee had the same non-descript look as all the other small businesses and flats on the street. The pink lettering with white background had definitely seen better days, but at least it was clean inside. There had been a teenager at a table by the loo door with her headphones plugged in and a man doing crosswords a table down from her; neither looked up when he entered. The guy at the cashier just stared at him with a bored expression as he took his order and an annoyed one as Colin paid with cash.

He'd gotten up and ordered a second one and looked at his phone. He still had about 25 minutes before Penelope arrived and he knew she would do so on the dot or a few minutes early. The consideration for others’ time and upholding agreements had been born out of the impression her mom’s carelessness had left on her from a very early age. Portia was a woman who played favorites and wouldn’t hide it. She would be there for Prudence or Philippa’s school activities or parent meetings while leaving Penelope hanging if she wasn’t reminded daily of an upcoming appointment regarding her youngest. The anxiety of waiting on someone was something Penelope hated and which she actively sought to avoid doing to others.

He felt his fists loosen a bit and he took a sip of his lukewarm chai latte. Being punctual or, if possible, early had been a golden rule at Bridgerton house. Colin had been brought up with the idea that even if others could wait on you, it was always in bad taste to leave someone waiting if poor time management was at fault. Penelope had been delighted whenever she made plans with Eloise or him, or both of them, and they would be opening the door just as she was about to knock on it or the other way around. That didn’t mean she was eager to leave when her time to go back came or that the Bridgertons were any more willing to see her go. It had been just another of the hundreds of ways in which she fit perfectly in his life, his family.

His eyes hadn’t strayed from the window and it was then that a car parked where his cab had and he held his breath. The shock of red hair was always the first thing he noted as it contrasted with all backgrounds. As the car left and she was left standing on the sidewalk, he felt himself go ice cold.

She was wearing the emerald dress that haunted his fantasies.

Her hair was falling in loose waves around her shoulders, the dress’ neckline, strangely, sat much higher than he remembered it, but it still hugged her chest in the most enticing way. Her makeup was light from what he could see but her scarlet, glossy lips stood out. The black puffer jacket she had on contrasted well with the green of her dress and the color of her skin as it flushed because of the cold. She had opted for black ballet flats and he thanked the cooler weather as he saw the black tights that protected her legs and would prevent attention from sliding to them.

She looked gorgeous and he wanted to kill Debling all the more because she had put in effort for him. Effort that he didn’t deserve, that he wouldn’t appreciate how he should, not like Colin did.

Penelope continued to stand there and after a little while looked around with a small frown on her face. Colin frowned too and looked down at his phone for a second: 6:34.

Debling was late. The absolute, massive idiot was late. Colin would’ve felt satisfied at the thought that Debling was further proving how wrong he was for Penelope had he not been preoccupied with not storming out the coffee shop and to her so he could tell her how he would never, ever do something like that to her, how she could do so much better than late, plant-eater Debling. He already had had alarm bells going off in Colin's mind since Penelope mentioned him, but this was more than confirmation that his assessment was right: Debling needed to breathe his last that night. Not only for the gall to think he was deserving of her, but to have a date with the hottest woman on planet Earth and not showing up on time with a bouquet and a smile? If Colin hadn’t considered Debling a moron before, he certainly did now.

He looked again and saw her huff and start balancing on the balls her feet while putting her hands inside her pockets. She was cold and he wanted nothing more than to go to her and offer the comfort of familiarity and the warmth of his arms. Instead, he looked at his phone: 6:47.

“Where the fuck are you, you asshole?” Colin muttered to himself darkly. If Debling stood Penelope up, it didn’t matter what had kept him or where he was, Colin would find him and make him pay for wasting not only Penelope’s time but an outfit that deserved to be seen and admired even as the thought of Debling seeing her in it made Colin want to gouge the blond man’s eyes out.

Huh, that last imagery evoked a strangely comforting feeling even as Colin preferred things to be as mess-free as possible. Maybe it would actually be better if Debling didn’t show up so he got more time to map it out.

2 minutes went by, Colin counted, when a car stopped in front of Penelope and Colin’s heart dropped only to start back up at a furious pace when he saw the man standing in front of Penelope and not only because of the fact that the man with her wasn’t him. Colin obviously couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the ashy-wheat hair dung was holding out a bouquet of yellow carnation and bright, orange lilies with a contrite expression on his face. He saw as Penelope eyed the flowers and a pinched look crossed her face before she smoothed it over with a soft smile and a “thank you”, Colin didn’t need the ability to read lips to understand, as she took them.

Colin could feel his eyes almost falling out of their sockets as he stared in horror at the flowers Penelope was holding.

Debling, the absolute, blind imbecile that he was, didn’t notice her less than pleased expression and lit up with a relieved smile and motioned towards the restaurant. As he opened the door for Penelope and it closed behind them, Colin couldn’t help the scowl he knew was marring his face. He was aware he should stay alert, but he needed a minute to pick apart what he’d just seen. So, he brought his hands up to his face and pressed his palms to his eyes to try and get his temper somewhat under wraps. The wool from his gloves scratched a little, grounding him. Debling’s offenses just kept piling one on top of each other.

First, he’d arranged for them to meet in a less than safe part of town. Second, he’d been late. Third, while Penelope had shown up, and wasn’t that the most surprising thing of all, looking like she belonged in an editorial photoshoot, Debling had arrived in jeans, a yellow graphic t-shirt that had seen better days, blue tennis shoes and a brown, curly, almost poodle-like, coat that seemed at least 2 sizes too big. Even just for that las monstrosity, Colin would be doing a public service so it would never be seen on the streets ever again. Fourth, he’d gotten her flowers that basically said he couldn’t be any less interested and that he hated her guts. Wasn’t the guy supposed to know these things given his line of study? What fucking flower-shop had he gone to anyways? The array had been garish to say the least and he wasn’t even sure how Debling had managed to get carnations, and yellow at that, this early in the season; which wasn’t a compliment to Debling but more of a surprising fact. The blooms also happened to be in two of Penelope’s least favorite colors. Colin was truly at a loss with how badly Debling was fumbling.

He'd gone from a shapeless, colorless, basic as fuck man to a mismatch and clash of colors and textures. He was overcompensating for not even being worth the air he breathed and Colin could tell from a mile away that he was a waste of the resources he so seemed to cherish.

Which was why Colin didn’t feel guilty at all as he waited.

-

Litte over an hour and a half later, a sandwich and a chamomile tea, which were both tasteless as his concentration took center stage, Colin finally saw the door to Mia Vita open again. Penelope came out first with that horrid bouquet held carelessly in one hand; seeing how quietly, yet outwardly, she was being about her dislike of it pleased him. Debling closed the door behind them and joined her as she waited, Colin presumed, for her ride.

Penelope, for her part, didn’t seem to be looking for conversation as she stood looking down at the end of the street. The sky was dark by now and Colin was actually glad she hadn’t decided to go back home using the tube. Debling didn’t say anything either, just stood beside Penelope and Colin couldn’t imagine not making the effort to get to know her better, to have her voice bouncing around in his head. Colin had just taken the last sip of his drink while reaching for his bag when it happened.

Debling turned towards Penelope, leaned down and kissed her cheek.

What. The. Fuck.

It had been a quick peck but it had surprised her just the same as she jumped a little and turned wide eyes to Debling who just smiled while a blush turned his face into a boiled shrimp. Colin could see him reaching a hand to the back of his neck as he turned to fully face her. Penelope was looking at him as if he had grown another head and Debling’s abashed demeanor turned truly embarrassed as his face went from boiled to overcooked.

Colin, for his part, felt rooted to the spot. He knew he was gaping but there was little else he seemed to be able to do as he saw Debling floundering nervously before Penelope snapped out of it and turned her face as a car parked in front of them. Colin wished he was able to see her expression as she and Debling had a small exchange while she opened the car door and got in; she left quickly. Debling stood on the sidewalk for a few seconds looking despondent as her car went away. Wherever he had managed to gather the courage to touch Penelope, to kiss her, had just signed his death certificate.

Debling took a deep breath and then turned the opposite way Penelope’s ride had left in and started walking. Colin gave him three seconds before he made his way out of the coffee shop and followed behind from the other side of the street. He shadowed the other man like that for a couple of blocks, putting his hoodie and raincoat’s cap over his head, before crossing the street but still keeping a considerable distance. Debling was hunched over and had his head down. Good, Colin thought, regret and defeat should be the last things he feels.

On the other hand, for all that seeing Debling kiss Penelope had left him paralyzed, Colin felt strangely calm. Night had truly set in and the streets were deserted as people in this side of the city knew the best course of action after sun down was to lock up and wait for a new day to begin; the quiet couldn’t have been more perfect for Colin, though, and he relished the feeling of being part of the dangerous aura permeating the air. He could feel the raging inferno simmering beneath his skin raising goosebumps of anticipation underneath the layers of clothing.

Twenty minutes of walking more into Belfrod’s twisty streets Debling stopped, Colin just a few steps behind him. Colin quickly sat down on the steps of the building he was walking by, the stone railing just tall enough to conceal him while crouched. He gave it a few seconds before he peeked out from above it but when he looked, Debling was gone.

He felt a pang of anxiety hit him square in the chest and he got up at once while reaching into his bag and unsheathing the knife while not taking it out. His steps were measured and quiet even as his heartbeat echoed in his ears. Debling couldn’t have gone far, and as he thought about it, he saw it: a cloud of white smoke coming from the alley just ahead and the smell of burning weed. Colin held his breath after the first pungently rotten whiff smacked him in the face.

He flattened himself against the building that opened up to the alley and moved just enough to see over his shoulder. Debling was facing away from him, he had moved about five feet into the alley and had his hands on his knees, bent at the waist with a joint held between his right index finger and thumb.

“Why?” Debling mumbled pathetically to himself. “Why di-” his sentence was cut off as Colin’s knife found its home on the upper, right-hand side of his back and then rapidly on his left. Debling didn’t scream, or Colin didn’t hear him as locked in as he was, but he made sure to grab the back of Debling’s head so he would hit the ground face-first as they fell forward. He heard a muffled and pained cry but he just kept taking the knife in and out, the cheap and curly fabric of Debling’s clothes giving way easily to the sharp steel.

Colin didn’t hold back.

This vermin, this absolute joke of a man had had the audacity to covet someone who he shouldn’t have even entertained the idea of. What could he truly offer? What did he have that convinced him he could ever hope to satisfy Penelope? He had been destined to the slaughterhouse the moment he thought he had a chance and Colin happily served as his butcher for thinking he was anything but filler.

Colin couldn’t help but bury the knife as deep as it would go in the middle-left of Debling’s back where he more or less knew the heart was. He didn’t know if the blade was long enough, but the thought of piercing, even if just a little, what let the man below him think he wasn’t worthless had him smiling. It was then, when he couldn’t push the knife further, that the world started creeping back in.

Slowly, the euphoric high of his blood-lust being satisfied left his system. It had started to rain and he was more or less soaked. His hoodie’s neck was dripping, the wool of his gloves pruning and weighting his fingers because of the water and his legs cramping. The bloody, watery halo around Debling was soaking into Colin’s pants as he had his knees on either side of the body’s lower back. He grimaced in distaste as he stood up.

He took the knife out of Debling’s back and cocked his head as he examined his work. Light posts had been few and far between and the clouds now pouring down didn’t make it any easier to see, but it was obvious Debling would never rise again as his back was littered with darker spots. He put the knife inside his bag and looked around to make sure he didn’t miss anything. The rain was a strike of luck which would wash away anything Colin missed and the black of his attire made it look as if it was just rain that darkened his clothes.

“Ha!” The laugh he let out couldn’t have been contained. He felt giddy, settled in the knowledge that, once more, he reigned supreme and alone in Penelope’s orbit. Debling had been no threat; he wouldn’t have gone down so easily if he had actually been one.

As always, Colin wished he could’ve stayed and explored his handywork more closely, but the aftermath had a time limit and he needed to start making his exit. With one last look at Debling’s corpse, Colin walked straight ahead and tapped his apartment in his saved addresses. It would take him little over 2 hours to get there, but he didn’t want to risk dripping scarlet on the tube or an uber.

Rain hailed like a punishment upon the Earth for the next 15 minutes and then wind wiped at him most of the way. He got to his flat almost at midnight, but as he put everything he was carrying in a black plastic bag to be disposed of sometime during the next few days and went to take a warm shower, he felt light and at peace. He rinsed off the rain and tension and replaced them with body wash that left a light trace of amber and cedar behind. He relaxed fully as soon as his head touched his pillow and he drifted off to flashes of soft blue eyes, red curls and candy-red lips.

-

Colin woke up to the smell of pancakes.

He groggily opened his eyes while stretching out on the bed. He reached for his phone, saw that it was little over 10 am, smiled and walked to the loo to wash his mouth. Warm water fell from the tap so he quickly splashed his face, patted it dry with a hand towel and made his way to the kitchen with an eye open and a still sleep-fuzzy brain.

Penelope had her back to him as she poured and flipped pancakes and Colin felt his heart melt and his defenses slip as easily as the butter on the pan. In three big steps he had his arms around her waist and his cheek resting on top of her head. He felt her tense for a second and then lean fully into him, relaxed and comfortable. He was sure this was a reward for a job well done and heard as another pancake was placed on the stack she had on the side before turning the heat off. His nose was filled with the sweet smell of her cooking and shampoo as he buried his face in her curls and contentment ran through him, eyes closed.

“Hey.” She said softly and he hummed in response while hugging her closer.

“Hello.” He whispered back, rocking a little from side to side until she turned in his arms.

Colin loosened his hold, opened his eyes and peered down at her. She gingerly put her hands on his hips and he couldn’t help the lazy smile he threw her way. The urge to kiss her wasn’t new although not less overwhelming, but instead of searching her mouth with his own he settled for dipping his head slowly down, gave her enough time to pull back or move out of reach, and pressed his lips a little more firmly than a mere friend would to her left cheek. He was erasing the ghost of Debling’s misjudgment from her skin and felt more than heard as a trembling breath left her.

He lingered for a bit, his lips pressing a gentler, almost not there second kiss before straightening. Penelope’s eyes were twinkling, her mind in that far away place she went to whenever he did something that particularly flustered her. Her slightly parted lips were a siren call, his dreams flitting temptingly within reach, and Colin had to drag his eyes back up before he did something stupid like press her into the countertop and feast on her.

He also took a step back, detangling himself from her, but not without first giving her waist a gentle squeeze. That got her back into herself. She flipped around and turned the stove back on effectively shutting him from reading her face altogether. He mourned the loss of her expression for a second before her voice distracted him.

“What was that for?” There was a catch in the middle of her question. He decided to be honest even if he couldn’t do anything else about the way his heart wanted to claw its way out of his chest and offer itself at her feet as the plush feel of her cheek burned on his lips.

“I missed you.” The sincerity in his tone must have gotten to her because she paused, a spoonful of mix suspended in the air before landing back in the bowl as she turned the stove off again. She faced him once more and observed him for a few moments, a myriad of emotions traveling in her eyes before she breathed deeply and a teasing, knowing smile appeared on her face.

“You just want me to leave a fresh batch of these bad boys ready before I leave, don’t you?” She waved the spatula at him.

No, what I actually want is for you not to leave. I just want you to stay. I want you. But he couldn’t say any of that, so he settled for matching her mischievous grin even as he felt a sharp digging pain in his chest.

“Can you blame me? I either have to go back home or coerce you into making them since my mom won’t share the recipe with me.” He pouted, she laughed and his heart leaped with joy. How her smile took him from heartbroken to smitten was outstanding and he wanted her to do it forever.

“That’s because you eat them as if you’ll never have them again!” She put her hands on her hips and he wished that was the place where his hands lived.

“It’s because I’m pretty sure you lace them with something.” Her mock outraged gasp had him bubbling with laughter.

“And here I was doing this to make up for not coming yesterday! See if I ever make you apology pancakes ever again.” She turned and this time he didn’t try to goad her gaze back.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” He measured his tone, kept it light but more grounded. He needed to know how she felt about the day before. “Did you have a good time?”

He saw as she fidgeted a little and there was a missing beat of movement before she started making pancakes again.

“It was alright.” Colin felt his jaw clench. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again outside of class, though.”

“Really? Why?” He hoped he sounded curious like a normal friend would. He surmised he didn’t quite hit the mark if the amused look she threw him over her shoulder was any indication.

“We just didn’t… click.” She trailed off. “He isn’t… well, we really don’t have a lot in common and, please don’t laugh, I only really accepted because I felt kind of bad when he almost chocked on his saliva while trying to ask me out.” Now, that had him barking out a laugh. “Colin!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, truly!” His amusement really couldn’t be contained even as he wished Debling had actually chocked and saved him the trouble of disposing of him. “Did he at least get you flowers?”

“Ugh, please don’t remind me.” Her displeased tone was, in this case, music to his ears. “He got me this yellow and orange bouquet… I felt kind of bad, but I left them in the uber I got back home.”

“That bad, huh?” He knew she knew he was smiling. “Was the food any good or was it three clean strikes?”

“That was the best part of the whole thing, actually. I had Bolognese pasta.” Another pancake was placed on the growing tower and Colin felt tension knot his back. “But it wasn’t good enough to go back. Belfrod’s so creepy too.” His smile returned as he rubbed his eyes a little.

“I still can’t believe he took you there, to be honest.” His disbelief and indignation weren’t an act this time. What kind of impression was Debling trying to make when he decided to take her there?

“Yeah, me neither.” She plated the last pancake on top and turned the stove decidedly off. “Anyways, I don’t really want to talk about my less than stellar date.” He wanted to poke further, but knew it was more for his satisfaction than anything else. “Breakfast?”

“Let me get some plates and the maple syrup.” He was about to head to the fridge when she spoke.

“I’ve already taken care of that.” He looked at the living room and saw plates, forks, knives, glasses and the syrup on top of the table. “Just bring the orange juice and we can decide on something to watch as we eat.” She took the pancake stack and made her way to the couch.

Colin smiled brightly; his eyes glued to her swaying hips. “Yes, ma’am.”

-

The next day, Penelope called to tell him about Debling. Someone had found his body the day before and the police called her as they went through his phone and saw she was the last person to have seen him alive. She sounded a bit rattled but not overly so as she recounted how they had told her about the 11 deep stab wounds. The heavy rain had washed away any possible DNA and Belfrod wasn’t a highly monitored area so the few cameras they’d been able to access hadn’t been the greatest quality nor did they show anything significant given the heavy rain.

Colin pretended to be surprised, told her to take it easy and to keep him updated if the police talked to her again.

-

In the end, about 2 months later, Debling’s murder was, unofficially, left to gather dust. The police’s investigation had uncovered him as a known user and possible dealer which led to so many new potential reasons for his targeting that resources on the case were halted until meaningful evidence was found.

“He didn’t really look the type.” Penelope said and although he disagreed, he didn’t say so. “The way it happened was horrible, but you can’t be in that world and not expect for it to come for you.” Her father’s drug abuse before his gambling problems kicked in and took him had hardened her. She felt pity, but Debling’s involvement with illegal substances had made it easier for her to detach from the situation. She was a little dismayed she hadn’t seen it; he could tell from the tone of her voice.

Colin, for his part, was thrilled. He had been proven right about Debling and Penelope discarding any feelings for the bastard almost as soon as they appeared was his ideal outcome. And so, he bought ice cream, strawberries, a good loaf of bread, a bottle of her favorite rosé, chocolate and cheese fondue before picking her up at her flat a couple of days after the latest Debling update. Good riddance deserved a celebration even if it was only known to him and she thought he was only trying to cheer her up; both things were true.

She lit up as soon as she saw the spread in his living room and that day was the last time Debling’s name left Penelope’s lips. Colin’s world was right again.

-

5

Colin had had, throughout the years, a complicated relationship with Portia Featherington.

He was grateful to her for bringing Penelope into the world, for selecting a house that offered almost unlimited access to the girl who would own his heart and for not caring that her youngest was more often than not at Bridgerton house. This last reason, however, was tainted with the knowledge that Penelope’s preference for his home instead of her own was not only because of him and his family, but also because her sisters’ barely disguised venomous comments and her mother’s harsh criticism of everything she did and didn’t do were things she wanted to avoid as much as possible.

Before Eloise had left for Glasgow, his little sister had been the one Penelope went to when things got particularly rough. Back then, he only got whispers of conversations, chocked and muffled sounds that slipped beneath doors as Penelope unloaded her mother’s latest point of contention. But, even then, when he hadn’t understood the depth or nature of his affection, he had felt rage burn bright and explosive inside his chest. Penelope had been a wonderful girl, polite, dedicated to her studies, always trying to give a helping hand.

“How can Portia find fault in her?” He’d thought, incredulous.

However, that’s exactly what she did. The Featherington matriarch had failed to see the good, outstanding, amazing woman in the making that was Penelope and, in exchange, had only seen shortcomings, mistakes, too much reading, not enough exercise, wasted time and resources on a career she saw no value or future in. Her absurd and imbalanced expectations chipped at Penelope, gave her insecurities that shouldn’t have been there nor should they have ever stemmed from the woman who birthed her.

He'd lost count of the number of times he’d seen red curls rush past him as she made her way to Eloise’s room. Later on, when they were almost out of high school, she went quiet, the excited glint in her eyes dulled. Brilliant blue turned a muggy bluish gray and he’d, more often than not, wanted to march into her home and demand an explanation, an apology. He’d, of course, never done it.

Instead, he would go to his mother, who would call Portia and, the first few times, request Penelope stay over. He would then go to the kitchen, make some hot chocolate, knock on Eloise’s door and leave the steaming cups beside it. As time went on, whenever Violet saw Colin’s locked jaw and watery eyes, she would just send her front door neighbor a text telling her Penelope would be spending the night and that she would let her know if anything happened.

Nowadays, with Eloise staying away since she’d found love with a Scottish widower, and father of two, after she was done with university, the role of Penelope’s confidant had firmly become Colin’s. He’d gone from waiting outside a door for her to emerge and throw a quick quip her way to get her to smile to being the one she called when frustrations boiled over and whose door she knocked on looking for comfort.

The time between something going down with Portia and getting to him was always significant, though. That had always allowed her to, at the very least, somewhat get herself under control. However, this time was different which was why his anger turned into determination.

It was a Thursday night and they had been lounging in his living room while they both finished some work-related things… or well, she was. She had gotten a full-time position at a bigger newspaper than the one she’d been working on after she’d graduated and even if the pay wasn’t stellar, it had been enough for her to be able to move out and into a tiny flat after a year. It was 20 or so minutes from his and while it had enough space for one person, it felt cramped when she had someone over and it felt even more so if they bought groceries and cooked there; the Great Lasagna Incident was testament to that. And so, his flat remained their preferred hangout space.

The chicken parmesan casserole they’d done and eaten straight out of the oven sat almost clean on the table in front of them. Penelope was sitting on the couch with her laptop placed in her lap. Her black-stocking clad legs in a maroon pencil skirt were crossed and hanging in front of her while her white long-sleeved shirt with her collar undone, half tucked and rolled to her elbows moved as she typed. Dark blue rimmed glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose while her teeth tugged at her lip in concentration and a messy bun laid atop her head.

Penelope looked straight out of one of his dreams and Colin was having a really hard time not crowding into her space and letting his hands wander under her skirt.

As soon as he’d seen her walk in in her black stilettos, he’d been very grateful to have changed into joggers and a loose t-shirt when he got home because he was almost at half-mast the moment he laid eyes on her. He’d gotten through dinner and conversations in a bit of daze as lust curled insistent and stubborn low on his belly. The red locks that swayed around her face had had his hands itching to brush them aside or let all of her hair fall free.

Afterwards, he'd made the executive decision to scone himself on the far end of the couch with a cushion on his lap, his laptop on top and a blanket on his shoulders hoping the comfiness and confinement would help bring his erection down. Penelope had given him a funny look but had soon gotten lost in her writing and he’d made a conscious effort to go through his emails.

However, her typing taunted him, echoed in his ears like warning bells and as he sat there staring blankly at the proposal his team had worked on all week, he chanced a glance. His timing was atrocious.

At that moment, her red nails pulled at her lip while a flash of white teeth trapped her tongue between them and Colin felt his stomach summersault. He put his laptop on the table and slid to the floor, a man in a trance. Penelope didn’t acknowledge this at first, but when his hands touched her calves, she startled softly.

“Colin?” She had stopped typing and was looking at him with surprise and curiosity.

Colin didn’t answer, instead, he dragged his hands up her legs and felt the tremor that traveled from them and up her body as he took her laptop and put it on the ground, a gulp as he closed it shut; her eyes tracked every move, never leaving his. He saw as her breathing deepened and stuttered, her chest moving with her irregular heartbeat and an aroused flush covered her cheeks.

He hooked her legs over his shoulders and shuddered in return as he felt her heels dig into his back. The drag of the mesh called to him, so, slowly, he turned his head and kissed her right thigh. A sigh escaped her and his control snapped. He dug his hands into her, short nails digging in and breaking through the cloth, lips meeting skin. He felt her tense up around him and he looked up.

She was a vision.

Penelope’s head was thrown back, her neck on display, the mounds of her tits heaving, a hypnotizing up and down that had saliva pooling in his mouth and his teeth aching to bite. So, he did. Colin tore his eyes away from her chest and bit down on her toned calf as she screamed.

“Colin!” Her breathlessness had him hardening further, his teeth leaving her and his tongue soothing the mark. His chest rumbled in satisfaction, bloomed with heat, love and possessiveness intertwining as she arched, seeking him again.

The continuous ripping sound as he uncovered more skin was accompanied by his muffled moans as he left traces of himself up and down her legs. She whined his name, bungled or stuttered it and that only made him bite down harder, which in turn had her scrambling to get closer, to get him to hurry up, to reach where she, they, wanted him.

As he finally reached the edge of her skirt, hiked up and rumpled, the one to groan and moan was him as he saw her panties matched it. His hands were now on her ass, full and glorious, and her scent swirled in his nose. He felt dizzy, drunk in the knowledge that she wanted him, that she was wet for him, the dark patch in her underwear undeniable proof.

“Colin, Colin, Colin…”

The tug of her hands on his hair unraveled him further, his cock screaming for attention as he ran his hands up to untuck and then unbutton her shirt while his mouth flooded with the need to taste her. Buttons flew around him, little tap-tap-taps hitting the ground, signals of his desire. He was shaking, desperate for her to melt in his mouth, to feel her need against his...

The shrill sound of her ringtone proved a rude awakening and scared him so badly he almost dropped his laptop.

“Are you okay?” Penelope asked as she startled with him. He was gripping his laptop for dear life but nodded and signaled for her to pick up the call while he got his racing heart under control.

“Yes, mom?” She said pressing down on the speaker button and putting the phone on the couch’s arm, eyes trained on the screen of her laptop again.

“What took you so long to answer?” Portia’s annoyed tone had Colin grimacing.

“Sorry, I’m working on an article and I wanted to finish writing it before the idea ran away from me. Is everything alright?”

“Is everything alright? Is EVERYTHING alright? Are you really asking me that?” Portia’s voice became outraged, Penelope continued typing. “Have you forgotten about the move this weekend? Do you even pay attention to a single thing I tell you?”

“I remember, mom. I was just making sure nothing urgent had happened.” Penelope’s tone was measured.

“Is my having to move all of these things and deal with all that moving entails not urgent enough?” Portia was delving into disbelief. “Even more so with little to no help from you. You lived in this house almost as long as I have and yet you haven’t deigned it worth your time to come and see me, ask me if I need help!”

“You were the one who didn’t want to hire a moving company.” Colin didn’t understand how Penelope was so composed.

“And why do you think that is?! Do you think money grows in trees?” Snide dripped from the phone. “Oh, of course not, since you got a job and you can pay your bills now. The world is your oyster, isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I said, mom.” Penelope’s voice was going into monotone territory and Colin felt his skin erupt in goosebumps.

“No, obviously not, because if you did then you would’ve offered to help pay for the move, but that’s not the case, is it?” Colin wanted to end the call, but he was rooted to the spot as Penelope’s fingers on her laptop acted as a metronome to Portia’s tirade. “You don’t visit, you barely call, when I do see you, you’re always out the door before an hour’s up and you never even bring a treat to go with the tea you barely touch.”

“I’m just busy, it’s not that I don’t want to see you.” She now sounded tired and Colin wanted to hug her very badly.

“That’s what you always say!” There was muffled sniffling and Colin could feel indignation grow steady with the fakeness of it. “If that job of yours keeps you from doing anything else, then you should quit! You don’t even earn that much, how is it that it is so worth it? I told you, you should’ve gone into business or administration. I know it would’ve been challenging, but you could’ve made it work…” Portia trailed off. The clack-clack-clack of Penelope’s keyboard the only thing breaking the silence. “Somehow! And, anyways, with the money you would be making now you could be helping me with the move or even your sisters! You do know Prudence’s radiator broke down last week and they won’t be able to repair it for at least two more months.”

“Mom, we’ve been over this, why should I pay for Pru? She’s got a husband to help her.” Colin didn’t even understand how they’d gotten to this point.

“How can you be like that! Your sisters have always looked after you, you should try and help them sometime! Also, you know Harry’s earning’s aren’t enough for the expenses they have. You’re single, they are a family!” The more Colin heard, the less sense everything made. Portia clicked her tongue before continuing. “I told you, how many times did I tell you that that meager salary they offered you wasn’t going to take you anywhere or help anyone? They’ve been exploiting you at that no-name newspaper for over a year now and what do you have to show for it, huh? Ten extra pounds around your stomach, five in your face and an almond-sized flat with limited hot water? That isn’t exactly a fair trade for your university’s bills.”

“You said you would stop that.” Penelope’s voice was devoid of emotion as she hunched over, each word through the speaker reducing the space she occupied as she folded in on herself; clack-clac-clack, her fingers flew across the keyboard.

“Oh, Penelope,” Portia’s sigh was full of pity and Colin wanted to take it and shove it down her throat until she chocked, “why must you insist on things which offer no gain? How can you ask me to stop worrying about you? Every day you slave away at a desk. Do you really think people read you all that much? You’re the fluff they use to get to the word count they need in order to publish. Be honest with yourself, your career is a dead end, what you make you’re not even investing in yourself since you have no man to speak of and you can’t even answer the phone when your mother wants to talk to you. Don’t you see the problem, dear?”

Colin was stunned. This… this… this being, because she was neither a woman nor a mother nor a human, had no trouble pummeling his Penelope’s existence without missing a beat. She wrapped her poison in fake concern and attacked all of which was important for Penelope and had been built upon her blood, sweat and tears for a path she could consider her own. How dare Portia question and belittle Penelope’s efforts? And how was Penelope still typing?

“I’ll be there tomorrow at 8. See you, mom.” The call disconnected, the typing continued and Colin had to take a few deep breaths. He wanted to scream, to rage, he felt thirteen again with a sense of helplessness he couldn’t shake.

However, he was no longer thirteen, he was twenty-seven and while immediate action against Portia Featherington wasn’t an option still, his priority was the little red-head who’s was still typing.

That snapped him out of his stupor and his anger transformed into worry. He put his laptop on the table and went to his knees in front of Penelope. How ironic that he was where he’d wanted to be not even 20 minutes ago but now, he would give anything to not be in this position.

“Pen, come on, give that here.” He couldn’t even see her face, but her typing didn’t stop even as he slid the laptop from her lap. When it was fully out of her reach, he turned it around and looked at the screen and saw rows and rows of random letters tapestrying the page. He frowned, shut it, put it aside and looked up again.

Her hands were balled into fists and he was sure her nails were digging into her palms. He reached out, his hands enveloped hers and his thumbs stroked the underside of her wrists. He focused on slowly unfurling her hands by massaging them until her nails left her skin. Little, angry-red half-moons littered her palms. Gently, he moved his fingers around them, trying to sooth the skin.

Colin could still feel tension in Penelope’s hands, so he flipped them over, intertwined them with his and she squeezed. His eyes traveled upwards, one of her sleeves had rolled from her elbow to mid forearm, her neck was barely visible as she tucked her face into her chest. He leant in, searching for her eyes and, when he found them, he felt his heart drop to his feet.

Her face was blank, her eyes foggy as tears ran continuously down her face but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Pen, look at me.” Her face was stone and Colin could feel vile travel up his throat.

“Penelope.” Her eyes didn’t move, nothing of her did.

“Pen, I’m here, you’re here.” Light gleamed off her tear tracks, Colin was fighting against shaking her to get her to react.

“Pen, love, please.” Desperation clogged his voice and fear made the endearment slip.

Surprisingly, that seemed to snap Penelope out of her stuppor.

“Co-Col-Colin!” His stuttered name left her in a broken whisper and he let go of one of her hands to pull her to him.

She went willingly, no resistance on her part, bones mushed inside. Her legs went around his hips, her left arm on his neck and she sobbed openly into his shoulder. His back hit the table, but he didn’t even register the pain as he held her and extended his legs, their hands trapped in between them, his right arm on her back pressing her more firmly against his chest as his lips went to her ear.

A litany of “it’s okay”, “let it out”, “you’re safe”, “I’m here”, “Pen”, left his mouth, soft and urgent. Her crying got more violent before slowing down and with each chocked scream and painful gulp he felt his heart break. She clung to him, her smaller body shaking his with the force of her sadness.

They stayed like that for a long while, her face pressed to his collar and the edge of his neck while his hand traced her spine in a pattern that her breathing followed once she got the worse out.

Then, almost in slow motion, one last big shuddering breath left her and she slumped completely against him.

“Better?” Colin whispered lowly against the shell of her ear after a few moments.

“Mmm…” Accompanied by a shudder. She tensed again, he did as well and then she bolted upright in his lap. The absence of her warmth quickly cooled the tears on his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“Wh-what? Whatever for?” He thought his incredulity could be excused. What on earth was she apologizing for?

“I ruined your shirt.” The last word was chocked and he stared in horror as tears welled once again and threatened to spill.

“Pen, you have nothing, listen to me,” he sought her eyes and when she didn’t concede her gaze, the hand on her back traveled to her jaw and gently turned her to him, “absolutely nothing to apologize for. I’m here for you. I’ll always choose being here for you over anything else.”

He felt as she flattened their joint hands against her chest, above her heart, as she once again cried on his shoulder, his hand on the back of her neck now. This time was gentler. Tiny hiccups leaving her and the heat of her tears and closeness contrasted with the vacated cold, wet spot; he shivered.

“I… I… I know she’s like this because she’s stressed for the move.” Penelope’s voice was a rough whisper. She fisted his shirt and Colin felt his heart squeeze with it. “But I just can’t understand why she always has to do this.” He felt her borrow deeper into his shoulder. “Prudence and Phillipa don’t call her, they visit less than I do, and while they spend every penny available to them on whatever catches their fancy at a moment’s notice, I’ve been helping pay some of her bills, yet I’m somehow the bad guy?!” She coughed, throat dry, and swallowed a few times. His thumb and forefinger dug a bit into the sides of her neck. “How does that make sense? I’m… I… It’s not fair!” Her voice was heavy with dejection as she leant a little back, his hand sliding down to her shoulder. “What have I done that’s so wrong that there’s not even scraps of pity left for me to beg for from my own mother?"

Her eyes were red, dull and lost. Colin’s weren’t dry and he felt his throat clog the more he looked at her. His chest felt completely caved in making it difficult to breathe. He moved his hand to her cheek, cupping it delicately, and a broken sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes and melted against it. She turned her face into his palm, her lips tickling the skin and he wanted nothing more than to hide her inside his heart, keep her safe within the vessels of his blood where nobody would be able to reach her except for him.

“I wish…” Colin had to swallow twice to move past the knot in his throat. “I wish there was something I could say, something I could do, but I-”

“I wish she was gone.” Penelope’s voice was low but sharp, her eyes peeking at him from below her lashes, almost black and infinitely intense as her mouth moved against his palm and her body became a tense line. He held her gaze, frantically searching her face in rhythm with his racing heart before she closed her eyes and sagged once more. When she looked at him again, the iciness had disappeared entirely and only tiredness remained.

However, Colin felt alert, laser focused and centered once more. He took their clasped hands, that had drifted to their midriffs, and placed them on his chest, over the heart that beat for her.

“I’ll do it.” His eyes now shone; he didn’t know if she knew just exactly what he was offering, but a bit of color seemed to come back to her even as her expression denoted confusion. “I’ll help you tomorrow with the move.”

“Colin, no!” Surprise colored her tone and she tried to pull back but he held fast. “Colin?”

He gave her a small smile, which was easier now that she’d stopped crying.

“I was planning to anyway.” That wasn’t a lie. “I just needed to finish going over my team’s proposal.” He saw the objection forming and continued before she could get the words out. “I was thinking of telling you tomorrow morning. I asked for the day off two weeks ago and rented a van so we can reduce the number of trips to your mom’s new place. Some more cardboard boxes and bubble wrap will be delivered at around 7 in case we need them.”

For a second, Penelope didn’t say anything and just stared at him. Slowly, her gaze started shinning, tears rapidly pooling and he got scared. But then, she carefully untangled her hand from his and wrapped both of arms around him; one hand went up into his hair and the other grasped at his back while his arms snaked around her waist. Her forehead pressed against his cheekbone and her nose to his cheek as her breathing hit his jaw.

“Thank you, Colin.” She was a little chocked and the gratitude he heard made him want to bash his head in. She didn’t have to thank him, never him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He was glad she hadn’t put up a fight, though, and his arms squeezed her tightly in appreciation for her last sentence. They hugged for a while longer just drinking in the serenity that came from taking care and being taken care of.

“Are you ready for bed?” His tone was soft and he felt her nod and hug him tighter a second before she tried to disentangle herself from him.

He stayed where he was until she was off and to his side before he swooped in. One arm went around her knees and the other securely around her back. The little squeak she let out as he lifted her off the ground had him fighting a smile while her left hand grabbed his bicep and her right scratched his back. It was quite nice, actually.

“Colin! Put me down!”

“Nope.” He started walking and she went still. Her face was now a little flushed and his heart settled. “I’ll just leave you in your room, okay?” He would’ve liked to continue holding her, but that wasn’t something that someone who was just a friend did. “Can you get the door for me?” They were in front of her room.

She reached a hand and turned the knob while pushing the door open. He stepped inside and slowly knelt down to deposit her on the bed where she flopped back as soon as she felt the mattress beneath her. His arms felt empty.

Colin stood up and as Penelope felt him move, she sat up. Her bun was askew and mostly undone, so he thought nothing of it when he reached out and tugged gently to let her hair down. The fiery red spilled around her and he couldn’t help tucking some strands behind her ear before placing his palm against her cheek and she, wonderful woman that she was, leaned into it again.

“Get some rest.” His thumb brushed her undereye, her lashes fluttered and his stomach along with them. “We have a long day tomorrow.” Her hand moved to cup his hand on her face. “Good night, Pen.” He was about to move away when she surprised him by placing a light kiss to his palm.

“Good night, Colin.”

-

While Penelope had adopted a forgive, forget and move on attitude when it came to her mother, Colin struggled with the idea that Portia continued breathing.

The way she seemed to suck the life out of Penelope was something he had a hard time letting go even as Penelope seemed to be able to recover faster as time went by. She’d unload her frustration sitting on his couch and he would go over all the reasons why Portia wasn’t meant to be six feet under and, ultimately, it came down to two facts: 1. She was Penelope’s mother, as much as he resented that, and 2. She was Penelope’s only living parent.

They both knew what losing a parent felt like although their experiences couldn’t have been more different. The passing of Edmund Bridgerton had left a wound that took a long time to heal and that every member in his family still felt in various degrees. When it had happened, they had all been more than a little broken, but they had also all been ready to glue themselves back together and share their loss. She, on the other hand, had had to deal with a gash that had been left to fester until it rotted away.

Anger had reigned in her home. From her mother to a man whose absence shone brighter than any happiness before it. From her sisters for what they considered a deliberate abandonment even as the last few years they had barely seen him; every time Archie Featherington went through the main door of his house it would mean a screaming match would ensue until he left again. They had been even more incensed when it was determined he had been drunk and high off cocaine and accidentally fallen on the Thames. Not a suicide, as they’d first believed, just a ridiculous amount of alcohol and drugs combined with freezing temperatures and no one around as he sank below the surface.

Prudence had turned even more acidic, Philippa’s understated maliciousness was enhanced and Portia had sat with her head held high as rumors and speculations swirled around them; the older woman had had no time nor desire to look after anyone in the face of her name falling under society’s critical eye. Penelope had also been angry at first, but as her sisters’ barbs became even more cutting and her mom’s disapproval more apparent at her lack of involvement with the proceedings, not that Prudence or Philippa had bothered to offer any help, she’d settled for stoicism.

Colin had seen Penelope’s eyes fill with tears that first night when she got the news, and he’d felt awful, but also immensely satisfied at the fact that she’d gone to him for comfort, and then never again. The funeral had been full of the eldest Featheringtons sniffling and Portia fake crying while never shedding a tear so her makeup wouldn’t smudge. Penelope had stood unmoving as her father was laid to rest and her mother covered her face with a handkerchief that came away as dry as when she’d taken it out of her pocket.

Afterwards, Penelope had sought Colin out and the first thing he did was hug her. He knew they had attracted some stares from her family and other attendees, which weren’t that many, but he hadn’t cared as she’d plastered herself to him and hidden her face in his chest. She hadn’t cried then either, but it had taken his arms around her for a long time for most of the tension in her small body to fade. He had stayed close to her and then driven her home.

Following the funeral, things got really bad. She had still been living with her mother then and even as they barely crossed paths with Penelope working late hours at the newspaper, Portia had, seemingly, made it her life’s mission to mess with her youngest. Penelope had, mournfully, gotten better at letting her mother’s jabs slide, but those months before she’d been able to move out had been hell. She’d call Colin in the middle of the night and he’d hear as she held back tears or went on indignant tirades. His insides had burned with the need to run to her and never let her mother in her life again.

When she’d finally been able to afford a place of her own, though, the situation calmed down. Missing made the heart grow fonder indeed as Portia mellowed out. Penelope had been on an almost no contact situation for the first 6 months after she moved out but after her mother made the conscious effort to look for her and get her dinner every now and then, Penelope had let her in. Colin thought they had reached a middle ground as it had been almost a year since she had had a row with her mother.

Unfortunately, the peace was short lived, but Colin only got wind about it when things took a turn for the worse. She had skipped calling him and just showed up to his flat. Eyes sad, frown deep, and voice chocked. He had bundled her up and given her his customary hot chocolate offering. Now, though, it was accompanied with one of her favorite snacks, almonds covered in strawberry yogurt with white chocolate or a selection of fragrant cheeses with raspberry marmalade and crisps, and his undivided attention. Food and a sympathetic ear became a staple again however much he hated the context of them.

Then, Portia would send Penelope a text saying “Sorry. Call me.”, they’d go out for dinner, that Penelope would pay for, and then they’d be fine or, at least, until the next thing that sent Portia into another denigrating speech that ended with a miserable Penelope nursing the cracks in her heart in his couch hit. It grated on his nerves so much that he always had to repeat like a mantra both reasons why he couldn’t do anything to Portia.

This time was different, though, not only because he now had firsthand experience with the shit she told Penelope, but because Penelope had asked him to do it. Granted, he didn’t think she was actually asking him to get rid of her mother, she was most likely just expressing a sentiment born out of exhaustion and heartbreak. Nonetheless, she had expressed her desire for Portia to cease to exist and Colin had been all but waiting for that green light for years.

It was nice to act under the guise of fulfilling a wish for her, although, this time, he would’ve done so regardless. Penelope’s mother had been running rampant and destroying her self-esteem by pushing her back 4 steps for every one she took forward. He’d known the general gist of it, the avenues she took and the ways in which she directly or indirectly undermined all of Penelope’s effort, work and aspirations. However, experiencing first hand and dealing with the direct aftermath had totally obliterated whatever restraint he had left.

The thought of Penelope’s blank stare would follow him forever. He’d been genuinely scared about her getting lost in that state of nothingness. The weight of not living up to Portia’s desires and aspirations had been crushing her slowly for years and had beaten her to a place in which she’d almost disappeared to before his eyes. She’d been so unresponsive he’d been seconds away from breaking down himself. His beautiful, brilliant, absolute stunner of a woman had lost the spark that had been his guiding light ever since he’d met her.

Colin had been on a path of no return the moment he saw the dullness of Penelope’s eyes. She’d looked truly small, her body an empty vessel for the soul which had been made to run in order to protect itself. He wouldn’t allow Portia to do it again, she’d done more than enough damage and, finally, her sand clock had made its last turn.

-

Colin’s alarm went off at 4:30 am.

It would be a while before they needed to make their way to Penelope’s family home, but there were things he needed to take care of before they headed there. He rubbed his eyes a few times before exhaling deeply and turning to get out of bed. He showered quickly and got dressed in a dark blue V-neck shirt, a pair of loose black sweatpants and shoes. As he made his way to the front door, he, inevitably, passed by Penelope’s room. She would be getting up in about an hour so they could get to her mom’s place on time; just the thought of that woman had him frowning. He pressed a hand to the door.

“I’ll take care of it.” A whispered promise.

He took one of his lightest jackets in the hanger by the entrance, pocketed his keys and made his way out as silently as possible. Once out on the street, he made his way down three blocks to the traditional French patisserie he frequented. He had discovered the little place shortly after moving into his flat and made it a habit to buy something there at least once a week. The owner was a nice older gentleman who treated him like family and always gave him extras of his favorite scones. Colin wasn’t going today for his usual order, though he would be buying some Nutella and cream filled pastries for Penelope, he was going for Portia’s ticket to the afterlife.

When they first met each other, Colin would go to Penelope’s house to pick her up almost as regularly as Eloise did. On one such occasion, as she’d opened the door, screams rung out.

“Are you crazy? Have you actually finally gone insane?!” Portia’s shrill voice resounded from somewhere inside the house. Penelope’s head whipped back.

“Can you calm down? It was an accident. I thought it was crushed up cookies!” Archie Featherington’s voice was annoyed.

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?! You disappear for weeks on end, don’t help me with anything and then come with a cake with crushed peanuts on it?” Portia was incredulous and Colin really couldn’t understand what was so bad about peanuts. “Did you just conveniently forget that I’m deathly allergic to nuts? You are really trying to kill me! What would’ve happened if I hadn’t noticed?”

He turned an alarmed stare to Penelope who was petrified on the steps. A moment later she snapped out of it, closed the door quickly, took his hand and started walking the short distance to Bridgerton house.

“I’m so sorry you had to hear that.” Her face was now an angry red and he rubbed his thumb back and forth on the underside of her wrist.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that.” Her blush calmed down somewhat and her eyes had gone from spooked to grateful as she offered him a sad half-smile before looking back down to the floor.

“She swells, gets all red and her throat closes up. Dad brought the cake as a peace offering since their last fight was quite… intense.” She didn’t say anything else and once they were safely in his house, they popped some popcorn and watched movies the rest of the afternoon.

It had happened so long ago that he was sure Penelope had already forgotten he knew or, if she remembered, she probably thought he wouldn’t remember. But he did, he kept away in a readily available mental box everything and anything that had to do with her and all she had ever shared with him. He had thought it peculiar how one of each of their parents shared such a similar vulnerability, although different in nature, but had deemed it as another sign that their paths had been meant to cross.

“Ah, my boy, Colin! Bonjour!” Colin smiled as he stepped through the door and Mr. Dupont’s warm voice greeted him. The shop wouldn’t open until another hour and a half, but after Colin endeared himself to him, he was told to come by whenever as long as it was after 5 am and before 9 pm.

“Monsieur Dupont, bonjour!”

“Your usual?”

“No, I would actually like two Nutella puffs, two cream buns and a dozen mixed macaroons.”

“Ah.” Mr. Dupont shot him a knowing smile before starting to put his order together. “She’s with you, isn’t she?” Colin could feel himself blushing.

“She’s just a friend, Mr. Dupont.” He muttered.

“Of course she is.” The pâtissier threw a pointed look over the counter as he assembled the macaroons in 2 neat rows. “You should really hurry up, boy, you never know when somebody might snatch her up.”

Colin felt his mood sour a bit. Penelope had accompanied him a few months ago to pick up some treats for their customary weekend sleepover. Mr. Dupont had instantly been charmed and while Colin had been able to mask his infatuation with her from everybody, the French had seen right through him. Ever since then, whenever Colin stopped by and he ordered what he remembered Penelope had, he would be subjected to teasing or pointed comments that grated on his nerves.

“Here you go.” Mr. Dupont put a bag on the counter and Colin paid with his phone.

“Have a nice one, Mr. Dupont.” His tone was a little terse and he had just reached out for the bag when elderly hands poised themselves on top of his. His eyes met gentle brown ones.

“The unknown is scary, but if you just take a chance, what you’ll gain will be everything and more. The way you two look at each other when the other isn’t looking…” Colin could feel his throat close up. Mr. Dupont squeezed his hands once and then turned around. “I included the new raspberry and cream filling flaky. Let me know how you both like it, I’m testing a new recipe.”

The dismissal was clear and without saying anything more, he made his way out of the shop. He took a couple of deep breaths as he retraced his steps back to his flat. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with Penelope, there was little else he wanted besides her, but he’d gone past the morally dubious onto the fully criminal long ago and the more he did the less he believed in her ability to be able to look past it if she found out.

He thought that for the first three times he had acted he could, somehow, come up with an excuse. Innocence, a misguided sense of protectiveness taken to the extreme and naiveté could be woven in his favor if he said the right things… maybe. The fourth one, however, there really wasn’t much he could say in order to convince her that it wasn’t as bad as it was. Debling had been a purely emotional kill, his rationale skewed and blinded by his jealousy and he was aware of how scary it would look, how scary it was.

What was more, Colin knew that if another “Debling” appeared, he would do it again. He knew it was wrong, that if he wasn’t going to do anything about his feelings he should let her try and find someone who would give her everything, but he couldn’t. Penelope was too important, too much a part of him to give to anyone else. She had bemoaned the fact that love seemed to escape her and he felt his heart bleed and his mouth burn with the declaration that had been swimming on the tip of his tongue ever since he was twenty.

So, he compensated by being her emotional support, the perfect friend, always ready to give comfort and advice when needed, forever within the platonic limits that friendship offered. Or at least he tried. His armor wasn’t perfect, feelings slipped, more so as the years went by, and there was close to nothing he could do about it. Furthermore, lately, his touches lingered a little too long, his gaze becoming a tad too intense, his nails sometimes scratched, but she never pushed away.

In fact, Penelope seemed to melt in his arms, her eyes never straying from his. Colin took all those moments and saved them for whenever she wasn’t by his side and the indents in his heart in the form of her hands wrung longing sighs from his lips. The flash of her smile behind his eyelids and the memory of the soft give of her skin the only things capable of soothing the ache until he was able to chew his longing into bite size pieces to swallow down and simmer in his stomach. The cycle would repeat itself endlessly, yearning-induced heartburn clinging to his throat and scorching his insides.

Regardless, and to be honest, after what he was about to do, he knew he needed to forget about the idea of ever confessing.

So far, Colin had kept his killings outside of her family and close friends. Classmates and teachers weren’t high in the “important bonds” list for most. Blood relations, however, were a completely different story. He considered family sacred and he had extended that same logic to Penelope’s even as he saw how it was merely a way to define people living under the same roof for the Featheringtons.

Nonetheless, this latest incident had finally snapped what little restraint he had left. Penelope deserved better than a mother who saw her as unworthy and untalented and he intended to give her permanent space in which to breathe without Portia’s ever-watchful, ever-judging eyes to snuff out her light.

As Colin entered his flat once again, he heard Penelope’s alarm go off. He put the bag on one of the kitchen’s counters and started making coffee. He knew she would first shower and change which suited him just fine as he started grinding grains. He heard the water running just as the coffee started brewing and its rich sent filled the flat. A few minutes later, as he set her cup beside a plate with a Nutella puff and raspberry flaky, she emerged from her room and he felt his chest constrict.

The wetness of Penelope’s hair made it a deeper shade, almost a burnt orange. Her skin was flushed and she was wearing a light blue oversized shirt with gray joggers. She looked so, so pretty. Her eyes found his as she stepped into the kitchen and once they made eye contact, she practically ran the last few steps into his chest. Colin enveloped her in his arms and held her as close as he could. He felt their breathing slowing down, matching, and the serenity he only knew when she was this near started spreading through his body; this was paradise.

“It smells heavenly.” Her face was kind of smushed against his peck, but she didn’t seem to mind as she nuzzled deeper into him. Colin felt himself shiver as he borrowed his nose in her hair and inhaled her clean scent.

“I went to get us something sweet to start the day and something for your mom. I was thinking about some eggs to go with the pastries.” He felt her tense a little when he mentioned Portia but she recovered quickly and tightened her hug before pulling back. At once, he felt bereft.

“That sounds lovely. I want sunny side up.” Her smile was small but he could see the gratefulness in her eyes as she bit into her pastry.

“Coming right up.” They lapsed into comfortable silence. If she wanted to say something, she would and, if she didn’t, he would respect that too.

“My mom called.” It was quietly said.

“What did she say?” She knew what he thought of Portia’s apologies. He kept his back to her.

“She apologized. Said the move got to her yesterday, that she wanted me over next week once she’s settled in for dinner. She’s cooking.”

“Hmm… What did you say?” She wouldn’t get to do it anyways.

“That I would think about it. She said to let her know when I’m available… She told me she loved me.” Her voice was almost a whisper and Colin tried very hard not to let the tension in his back show. “I said I loved her too.”

Colin knew the power those words had on Penelope coming from Portia and he cursed the blasted woman. Penelope always went gooey whenever her mother decided to show her the most basic of affections. He struggled to answer for a beat.

“I see… I’m glad she apologized.” Because it would be the last time she got to do it. “Your eggs are ready.” He smiled slightly but saw her contrite expression as he placed the food in her plate. He sighed. “Yesterday is still a little too fresh for me. I was really scared for a moment there, Pen.” Her eyes softened in understanding. “Give me a while, it’ll pass.” Her hand reached out and touched his wrist, her thumb rubbing just over his pulse.

“You’re the very best, you know that?” The rays of early morning filtered through the windows at her back, her hair a fiery halo and her eyes a sparkling aqua that shone with sincerity. He truly was a lost cause when it came to her. The pan, on the hand she wasn’t holding, gently clacked against the counter as he lowered his head to touch his forehead to hers and hold her cheek. Her eyes fluttered close, dark lashes casting small shadows and he wanted to save this moment, turn it into a collar and wear it around his neck like a good luck charm.

“It’s what you deserve.” Colin’s words lingered. He rubbed his nose against hers delicately, a soft touch meant to comfort and reassure. His eyes closed for a few seconds before he butted her head softly and her indignant squeak rang out as he set to scramble eggs for himself. “Now, eat. We don’t want to be late.”

“Prick.” She said affectionately and he smiled.

-

Penelope had just gotten down from the taxi while he paid when her mother screamed from the entrance. “Didn’t I tell you I don’t have money to pay for a van or moving service? Who’s going to pay for this? Do you think my I’ve got bottomless pockets, Penelope?” Portia’s face was red and Colin quickly exited the car.

“I’m paying for it.” He said and Portia’s face went from red to white until she settled into a practiced fake smile with an embarrassed flush covering her cheeks.

“Colin! I didn’t know you were coming today.” She directed a pointed look at Penelope and that irked him more.

“I imposed on Penelope and arranged for the van.” His tone was short and he felt Penelope shift.

“Oh, that is terribly kind of you. Thank you, Colin.” Portia was the image of calmness. “Although I hope Penelope didn’t inconvenience you. We could’ve managed on our own.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Featherington. I insisted, Penelope didn’t know until this morning. It will be my pleasure to help.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and, instead, gave her a, what he hoped was, a charming smile.

“Well, in that case, I’m even more grateful. This whole process has been very stressful.” Portia dramatically turned around and went back inside.

“Truly, thank you.” Penelope stopped him from following with a hand on his stomach and he looked at her.

“Nothing to thank me over. What are friends for?” Something flashed in her eyes, too quick for him to identify, before she smiled again and tilted her head signaling for them to walk inside.

“I still need to finish organizing my clothes. It’s been such a hassle with just me getting everything as ready as possible.” Portia was directing exaggerated sad eyes to Penelope.

“I told you I’d help, why did you start without me?” Penelope sighed and gave her mother a fond but exasperated look.

“I just wanted to get a head start. I haven’t done much.” Portia went to Penelope and looped their arms together. “You’ve been so helpful already I wanted to make things a little easier.” Penelope was looking at her mom with starry eyes and Colin felt his stomach sink. “Colin, would you mind putting away the kitchen wear? I left bubble wrap in there to protect the ceramics and glass.”

“Not at all.” He glanced to Penelope, but she was leaning into her mother’s half embrace and looking at her face. “Shout or call if you need anything.” With that, he turned around and made his way to the kitchen.

The bag in his left hand felt like it weighted thirty pounds more than it had just five minutes ago so he put in the marble kitchen isle and put his head in his hands. He knew how Portia used sweet words and kind gestures to get Penelope to do the things she wanted even after being absolutely horrible to her. He knew Penelope would be better without her in the picture, but he felt indecision roiling in his brain as he recalled Penelope’s face at Portia’s words just now.

What Colin was about to do would be permanent and even wit that awful track record, maybe the even greater distance between mother and daughter could serve as a way to build new bridges. Technically speaking, he didn’t have to do anything or even have to be this day in particular. He could just take the macarons back or not even mention them and nobody would be none the wiser. Shaking his head a little, he decided to focus on packing dishes for the time being.

The bubble wrap was just to the side of the sink, but there were no scissors in sight. He opened the cabinets and found nothing and while he could use a knife, he didn’t really want to risk injury. Unlike Penelope, the number of times he’d been inside Featherington house could be relegated to just one hand, this instance included. He sighed as he started making his way upstairs to ask for the something to cut with. Soon, he heard voices but they weren’t pleasantly conversing. No, he could hear Portia’s lividness.

“You can’t be serious, Penelope!” He slowed down and stopped just outside the open door.

“It’s just for a few hours, mom!” Penelope’s voice was pleading. “This is my chance to make an impression. Mrs. Black told me Mrs. Danbury has read my column. Mrs. Danbury! She’s interested in meeting me!” Colin’s eyes widened. Danbury & Co. was one of the biggest publishing houses in the country, if Penelope had managed to get the CEO’s attention, that could signify the start of the career she’d always dreamed of.

“By God, Penelope, are you really that naïve?” Portia was incredulous, a malicious edge to her voice. Colin braced for impact. “Do you really think she asked for you? That she actually has read you?” A scoff. “Gossip wouldn’t interest someone of her caliber, much less the ramblings of a girl still wet behind the ears. This is clearly just a ploy from your boss to get you to work on your day off!”

“Mrs. Black isn’t like that, she trusts me. She-“ Portia cut her daughter with a laugh.

“You truly are a lost cause. Penelope, dear, stop living a fantasy!” The mirth was gone. “We both know nothing you’ve ever written has gotten you anywhere nor will it, in all likelihood, take you anywhere. A play in high school and a few clever sentences or turn of phrases don’t make a career and as resourceful as you are, if you really had the talent, you would have something under your name worth talking about by now.” Colin saw red with every word out of Portia’s mouth. “Wake up, girl, you’re not getting any younger. The stories inside your mind were a fine pastime when you were a teenager, but those days are long gone. You can’t keep jumping through hoops and needles to try and impress people who have never actually considered you more than chair warmer.”

“It’s not like that…” Penelope’s voice was almost as fragile sounding as yesterday and it was taking all of him not to stride in and take Penelope in his arms and shield her from the words that he knew were breaking her spirit.

Colin decided he’d heard enough, and he also didn’t trust himself if he stayed longer, so he silently made his way back to the kitchen. As he descended the stairs, his mind was, once again, resolute. Portia Featherington needed to be gone.

As he assembled a box, to give the impression that he’d been packing, he waited patiently for Penelope to make her way downstairs. Almost since the moment they had met, Penelope had shared her dreams of becoming a published author, of sharing her stories with a wider public. Characters, plots and prompts roamed around her head and she’d had such a clear vision of what she wanted for herself, for her future, that he couldn’t help but admire her. However, it had also made him self-conscious of his own situation, jumping from one thing to another without nothing seeming to stick, before realization hit him thanks to her.

“You attract others, you bring them into your orbit and make them listen. That’s something most people struggle to do and even spend a lifetime trying to perfect. You’re a magnet, Colin, you just need to go out and do something about it.” She had been absolutely right.

He thrived in networking, getting people involved and pitching ideas. Marketing had seemed like the best option after considering PR for a while. Anthony had been thrilled but also adamant that he follow the path everyone else did, meaning, getting recommendations and applying for an internship. His older brother had recommended him, along with some of his professors, and then had left all considerations of his application to the head of recruitment with specific instructions to not give him an in just because of his last name.

Colin had been received an offer, his interview had gone well, although he thought he could’ve done without the sweaty palms and stutter at times. He had started from the bottom and worked his way up until he became the GM of the marketing and communications department.

He had harvested great success with innovative proposals that had gained him the respect of his peers. The challenge of making a path for himself and even confronting people who doubted his capabilities because his family owned the company had been exactly what he’d needed. It had been an exciting, stressful and nerve-wracking process in a way that few things were.

As good as most of it had been, not everything had been smooth sailing. He was grateful for the team that surrounded him and the faith the had had in his judgement even when it seemed like too risky of a move. Penelope had also been there every step of the way. Even as she had struggled, she had always been on the other side of the phone ready to hear him out and calm him down after a particularly trying situation.

When he looked back to those times, it only further proved that she fit neatly into every aspect and phase of his life. She had pushed him to not give up, to follow his gut and to take chances. Now, as she was so close to truly entering her dream field of work he was nothing if not eager to help her get where she needed to be in order to get to where she wanted to be just like she had done for him.

A few minutes later, he heard someone walking to the kitchen, it was Penelope. Her face was slightly red and she kept rubbing at it. He immediately went to her.

“Pen, hey, hey, hey, what happened?” His concern wasn’t a farce.

“Yes… no… yes… agh, it’s complicated.” She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes and he gently held her elbows trying to get her to not press quite as hard.

“Tell me. I’m good at making difficult things easy.” He tried to bait her a little and it worked. She let out a wet sounding laugh. Good, she wasn’t near where she’d been yesterday.

“You’re terrible.” She slowly lowered her arms and he let his hands trickle to her hands, lacing their fingers together. She blinked a few times adjusting to the light once again. “I got a call from work. Mrs. Black got a call from someone from Danbury & Co. and said Mrs. Danbury wants to meet with the author of the entertainment column: me.”

“Pen! That’s awesome! At what time do you have to be there? Shouldn’t you be on your way already?” His smile was genuine as well as the pride coloring his voice.

“In little over an hour, which, yes, it means I need to leave soon. I have to stop by my apartment to change and then head to a restaurant in Soho.” Her eyes were still glassy but the small smile she gifted him with was lovely all the same.

“Then get going! What are you waiting for?” Her smile dropped and the hatred he felt for Portia seemed to double.

“My mom… she… she’s not happy about me leaving.” She dropped his gaze and hung her head.

“Pen, look at me, please.” His voice was gentle but firm and it took a few seconds, but she raised her head. “This is a golden opportunity. If I wasn’t sure you’re taking it I would kick your cute little butt out the front door anyway.” That got a more normal sounding laugh, he smiled at her again when she refocused on his face. “You don’t need me to tell you how big a deal Danbury is, you know better than me. What I will say is that you’ve worked tirelessly on that column for years. It really is high time you start reaping the fruits of your labor.” Her eyes had started misting over, the flush he so loved covering her cheeks. “Go, I’ll continue helping here and let you know if anything comes up, but focus on Danbury. Turn your phone off if you need to.”

“Colin, I-”

“Don’t even think about thanking me. It’s my pleasure to support you.” She continued looking at him and he nodded encouragingly.

“But what if things don’t work out? It’s Danbury we’re talking about, the biggest publishing company and I’m just… well, me!” She looked a little distraught and he frowned a little before pulling her to him by the hands he was still holding. Once again, the calm water of her eyes reflected him as he brough their foreheads together.

“And you’re Penelope Featherington.” He said it softly, intimately, confidently before pulling away slightly. “Do not forget that. Everything you’ve done, you’ve achieved on your own merit. If Mrs. Danbury has the discerning eye I’m sure she does, she won’t let you slip through her fingers.” He smirked a little and the next second was shocked as Penelope kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“You truly are the very best.” She sighed softly and her lips grazed his cheek in the process. Goosebumps erupted across his arms, but then she stepped back and let go of his hands. “You’re right. I’ll never know if I don’t try. Dinner’s on me if this goes well. Call me if you need anything.” With that, she turned around and sprinted out of the house.

Colin just stood there, dumbfounded, as his hand went to the cheek she’d just kissed. Several minutes went by before he managed to snap out of it. He turned his mind back to the task at hand, later he would be able to properly drown in the memory of her lips against his skin. For now, he needed to continue to build his alibi. He put together 5 more boxes before he started sorting and separating what seemed like endless China sets and cups. Before long, over an hour and a half had gone by and it was time.

He took a smaller dish and set it beside the macaroon box as he opened it and selected a trio of chocolate, strawberry and pistachio. Once his selection was made, he made his way upstairs. When he got to Portia’s room, the older woman was splayed on the bed, clothes everywhere.

“Mrs. Featherington?” He made his voice unsure as he knocked lightly on the open door.

“Colin!” She bolted upright. “I was just taking a little break.”

“I thought you would be tired.” He directed what he hoped was a charming smile her way. “I brought some treats. Would you care for macaroons?”

“I most certainly would!” Portia’s face lit up and Colin felt himself thrum with anticipation as she basically snatched the porcelain from his hands. “You’re so nice, your mother truly lucked out.” She bit into the chocolate sweet and Colin felt his heart rate pick up in anticipation. “This is delicious. You’ll have to share the name of the pastry shop.” She picked up the strawberry one and it was gone in two bites.

“Even if I told you, you won’t be able to eat them again, Mrs. Featherington.” His voice had changed but Portia didn’t seem to notice for a second as she started on the last macaroon before her eyes shoot to his.

“What?” There was a crumb by the corner of her mouth.

“Well, maybe I should tell you.” His smiled turned wide and he saw as Portia noticed something amiss by step back she took. “They’re from a shop near my flat.” He flicked his gaze down and could see as the outline of a rash appeared on her neck, he stifled a laugh. “The owner is a French man who’s bent on sticking to tradition.” His words seemed to trigger something in her as her hand flew to her throat and she started scratching at it. The laugh did escape him then. “Did you know macaroons are made, traditionally, with almond flour?”

Portia took another step back before turning. Colin easily tripped her and she crashed down onto the beige rug. She was chocking, wet sounding gasps bouncing around the room, and her nails were digging into her skin as welts turned from red to purple to almost blue within seconds. Her face was swollen, left eye almost shut and Colin wanted this to be over so he could stop staring at the grotesque sight. A hand reached out but he easily side stepped it.

“I will never understand how you saw Penelope and found her wanting.” All traces of amusement were gone and he looked with disdain into the bloodshot eye that was still open. Spit dripped from Portia’s mouth and garbling left it, it wouldn’t be long now. “You don’t deserve to even be referred to as a mother.” His lips curled in a self-satisfied smirk. “But don’t worry, I’ll look after her.” She wasn’t moving much; her lips were now twice their size and her unswollen eye was moving frantically. “Not that I think you particularly care nor that it matters what you want.”

Portia’s chest expanded dramatically, a last effort to get air into her lungs he guessed, before she stilled completely. She was on her back, every inch of skin covered in angry bumps, neck almost bloody and a stream of tears disappearing into her hairline. Colin saw a pair of scissors on top of the bed and took them before making his way back to the kitchen.

The clock on his phone told him it had taken less than 10 minutes. He thought guilt would be present for the first time, but he only felt the gratification that came from knowing Penelope was in a better place thanks to what he’d done.

He cut bubble wrap, filled 4 more boxes, summoned tears, a chocked-off voice and, little under 2 hours later, called 999.

-

Colin was taken to the nearest station for questioning. He’d called Anthony in a panicked state and his older brother sent the family’s lawyer, William Mondrich, and with him by side he spent the next 2 hours recounting what had happened (he’d found her after going to check on her and he’d immediately called for help), why was he there (helping his childhood friend), why hadn’t Penelope been there (she’d gotten a call from work and he’d offered to stay), how come he didn’t notice sooner (the house is big, he’d had airpods on and wanted to give her space after Penelope told him Portia hadn’t been too happy about Penelope leaving), why didn’t he know about Portia’s allergy (Penelope had never mentioned it and he’d never thought to ask), why had he been so agitated when he’d called (his father died of an allergic reaction, how else was he supposed to react?).

Colin had turned glassy as he recounted his dad’s traumatic passing. How none of them had known about the deadly reaction until it was too late, how they ended up father-orphaned and their mom a catatonic widow because the ambulance didn’t get there on time. The officer had been stern at first but with the added context his ice-cold façade slipped into sympathy. Soon after, Colin was made to sign a declaration and told he could be brought in for questioning again. Will assured him he would first have to be notified but that it was unlikely given his cooperation and solid testimony. Colin had nodded but assured he was open to anything. As he left, the officer that had interrogated him had patted him on the back and told him to get some rest.

-

Portia’s death had been ruled an accident and Colin had been cleared of suspicion the very next day as there was no evidence of foul play. The police had gone to the patisserie and confirmed he was a frequent there and that business only gave allergen rundowns to new clients; they had also talked to Penelope who had confirmed she had never mentioned her mom’s allergy to him. A couple of texts had been waiting for him as he disconnected his call with Will about his absolution from the case.

Pen: Please, tell me you don’t feel guilty about this. I don’t blame you for anything, it was an accident, you couldn’t have known.

Pen: I need to get things sorted with the insurance and the funeral home so I won’t be on my phone much.

Pen: The wake is 2 days from now. See you?

He’d confirmed his attendance and asked how she was doing but his messages went unanswered.

-

As Colin made his way inside the funeral home, he saw Penelope standing alone outside the entrance to the room with “Portia Featherington” written with chalk on a black board.

“Pen!” He let tears swim in his eyes as he made his way over to her and her arms opened to him instantly.

Her hands went under his jacket and around his back over his shirt and his nose found its favorite spot at the top of her head as he held her.

“You came.” Her voice was soft.

“Of course.” True emotion surfaced, for her, for the tortured expression she wore. “I’m just glad you still want to see me.” She let go but reached one hand to the side of his neck while the other rested on his chest, above his heart.

“Don’t.” Her voice was stable. “This wasn’t you fault, Colin. It was an accident, a terrible one, but an accident nonetheless. You didn’t know and I was too distracted to remember. We’re not at fault.”

He was pleased about how rational her thought process was, but he needed to sell this so he ducked his head and closed his eyes as if in pain.

“Are you sure?” His voice wobbled a little and she nudged his cheek so he would open his eyes again.

“Colin, I know you. You’re good, you would never do this on purpose.” He felt a little pang at that. She truly didn’t know what he was capable of. Her eyes shifted behind him and then she guided them to the seats just to the side of the entrance.

Portia’s casket laid on the far end in the middle of the spacious room with two big flower arrangements besides it. He saw Prudence, Phillipa and their husbands as well as a few more people scattered throughout who he didn’t know; it was even emptier than Archie Featherington’s funeral. He made eye contact with the eldest Featherington sister and saw shock cross her face before he turned his attention back to Penelope.

“I’m… I’m actually…” She took a deep breath. He saw her make an aborted motion for his hand and he was quick to lace their fingers. She shot him a grateful look. “I know this probably makes me an awful person, and if not, at the very least, an awful daughter, but…” He waited. “But I’m actually kind of relieved.” This last bit was said in a rush. “I feel terrible even thinking it, but it’s the truth” She looked scared. “I’m horrified that the biggest feeling inside me ever since I got the news is relief.”

“Pen, she was your mother, you loved her, but she also hurt you so much. Your sadness and relief can coexist without being contradictory.” She clenched her jaw and he reached out to touch it with the back of his fingers. “Our minds are complicated things, our hearts even more. Whatever you’ve felt and are feeling is okay.” He was about to say more when he was cut off.

“What the hell is he doing here?!” Hatred dripped from Prudence’s voice and both he and Penelope turned their heads to her in record speed. Penelope frowned deeply.

“What are you talking about? Pru, lower your voice.” Penelope gripped his hand tighter. Prudence sneered at her.

“Has your brain finally melted off? Have you already forgotten what he did?” Prudence’s face was an ugly red, her eyes almost bulging out while her mouth was set in a straight line. Colin would’ve laughed at the picture she made had that not been the most inappropriate reaction and had his blood not turned to boiling at the insult directed at Penelope.

“It was an accident. He didn’t know.” Penelope was glaring right back at her sister, blue eyes hooding over and becoming a stormy sea.

“Everyone keeps saying that! But he should’ve known! You should’ve said something!” Prudence was now almost in front of them, tears streaming down her face. Colin wanted to roll his eyes. “And you!” She pointed at him and he recoiled to match the drama of the scene. “How can you be so shameless? Coming to the wake of the woman you killed! You’ve got to have the thickest face daring to show up here after what you did. It’s surely sweet knowing daddy’s money can get you out of anything even when that means I’m left an orphan.”

Colin was about to stand up and truly give Prudence a piece of his mind, funeral be damned, when a laugh resounded from beside him and then suddenly there were red curls and black clad back in front of him.

“Gosh, fuck off, Prudence.” He couldn’t see Penelope’s face but the straight line of her back had him transfixed. “An orphan?” Another chuckle. “You only cared about mom whenever she had something to give you or when you needed help with paying for something you shouldn’t have bought in the first place.”

“How dare you-!”

“You know what? Maybe you are the true orphan in all of this, you were her favorite. Do you know what she would call me about other than to diminish me?” Penelope didn’t give her time to answer. “How you never called, never visited, how I should help you pay for something or other.” Penelope’s hands were fists by her sides. “You were the light of her eyes, both you and Phillipa, but neither of you could be arsed to seek her out if you couldn’t get something out of it.” Prudence’s face had gone white as a sheet and she took a step back. Colin was hypnotized by Penelope’s harsh tone.

“She spoke with so much longing and pain about not seeing you. Meanwhile, I was the one there for her, me, even when she didn’t acknowledge my efforts, even as she talked to me as if I was lesser than even though the same blood ran through our veins.” Colin heard her inhale sharply. “I was the one who organized this wake. I was the one who talked to the insurance and the funeral home. I am the one who always does things for you, Phillipa and mom, even in death.” Colin couldn’t help it, he placed the palm of his right hand in the middle of her back, over her spine, and the ensuing shiver had one traveling through him as well.

“What happened was an accident. Insinuating that this was anything other than, that Colin of all people would do anything to intentionally hurt her is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said.” Colin held back a grimace, if only she knew. “And there’s been no shortage of them given your lack of interest for anything that requires more than a functioning brain cell.” Now it was a laugh that he had to swallow down.

“How dare I, you say? How dare you say anything about Colin?” Her voice sounded so angry. Angry in his behalf. The edges of his vision blurred. “He has been nothing but an exemplary man to all of you even when none of you deserved it.” She took a step forward, Prudence took one back and Colin leaned forward, following her. “And that’s because I asked him to. Because I thought my disagreements with you shouldn’t impact the way he treated you. Do you have any idea of all he’s done?” A deep breath.

“He paid for the moving truck! He was helping pack the kitchen wear! He brought the macaroons because mom told me the day before how we never have something sweet to go with the tea, for god’s sake! He did all of that! Colin! Not Phillipa, not me and certainly not you and he isn’t even related to her! We are!” He could feel her agitation in the little tremors running through her and saw as her hands went to her face as it bowed. “His father died of an allergic reaction, you insensitive bitch!” Colin’s breath caught.

“Do you know the state he was in when he called the ambulance?” Penelope’s voice was chocked. Colin’s nails scratched the fabric of her shirt. “He would never, ever do something like that on purpose. His family has gone through this and they were so much younger. Mom saw us grow. She saw you both get married and have kids, she saw me graduate and find a job. The Bridgertons will never get that.” She let her hands fall to her sides again.

“You have no right to talk about things you know nothing about. Much less throwing accusations with no basis or support just because you believe you’re owed something.” Her back was ramrod straight once again. “Nobody owes you anything, Prudence. Not me, not mom and most of all, not Colin who’s only ever tried to help. If anything, your indifference killed her little by little every day and yet I don’t think you feel any remorse about that. At least Philippa had the decency to admit to it in her eulogy.”

Colin distantly heard stomping but he was too preoccupied with getting his heart under control. Penelope turned around and her hands were on his face in an instant.

“I’m so, so, so sorry, Colin.” Her eyes shone with tears. They were at her mother’s wake, she’d just fought with her sister and she was crying for him. She was hazy as his eyes misted over. “Colin, please don’t listen to her. I know you. I know what an incredible man you are. Please, please, listen to me.”

He stood up and crushed her to him. She held him back with the same force, her face against his chest and his head on top of hers, eyes shut tightly.

While his father’s passing had left a deep wound in him, Colin had quickly accepted it as a part of life. Just like people were born, people died. It wasn’t intentional, most of the time, it was just a part of being alive. This understanding helped him in rapidly getting over the sadness and be able to better care for his youngest siblings who were bound to not understand this logic. However, the whole situation afforded him the perfect angle and damn if he wasn’t going to take. Penelope could believe it was because of his father, that the trauma was the cause of his emotional outburst. She didn’t need to know it was all because of her, of how she stood up for him even in the face of her own pain.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His chocked voice wasn’t an act. “She was right, I am guilty.” It was a confession.

“No.” Her tone was final, nails digging into his back. He couldn’t have stopped the shivers even if he’d wanted to. “Nothing Prudence says is ever true but least of all anything having to do with you. She doesn’t know you. I do.” More shivers.

“You do.” If he said it a little desperately, her only response was to hold him even tighter.

“I do.”

-

As Portia was laid to rest, Penelope didn’t cry, and wasn’t it just incredible that the only tears she had shed were for him, but she did hold Colin’s hand in a vice grip. Her eyes were clear and her stance tall, a stark contrast to the shaking woman of a few hours before. She was, also, cocooned in a Bridgerton fortress. Violet was to Penelope’s left and held onto her arm. Francesca was standing with Gregory and Hyacinth to their mother’s right. Anthony, Kate and Benedict were to Colin’s left. The only one missing was Eloise who was in America in a family trip with Phillip and the kids and who would’ve jumped on a plane had Penelope not insisted she didn’t; she had still spent almost an hour on the phone with Penelope as she had called before any of them showed up.

They had all gotten there a little after the whole incident with Prudence. Kate had enveloped Penelope in her arms, her older sister persona activated and when they’d pulled away tears had clung to Penelope’s lashes like morning dew. Anthony had put his hands on her shoulders gently and looked her straight in the eye as he told her she would always have a family with them; Colin very much wanted to bury his face in his oldest brother’s chest in gratitude as he saw Penelope’s eyes sparkle.

Francesa and Benedict had each held one of her hands and told her she could always count on them. Gregory and Hyacinth, although by now both taller than her, ducked under her chin and sandwiched her; that got her to laugh. Violet, the last of them, hugged her while whispering in her ear and when they parted Penelope’s eyes were watery but she was smiling adoringly at his mother. A lifetime would never be enough to thank his family for loving Penelope as much as he did in their own unique way.

Prudence and Philippa stayed at a pretty noticeable distance, which suited them all just fine, and Colin felt the tension leave Penelope’s body with each shovel of dirt that separated Portia from the living. When nothing remained but slightly elevated ground in front of the tombstone, he felt her lean on him fully.

Colin knew she had a long way ahead. She would need to rebuild her confidence, accept that the world was a better place for her now; the fantasy of Portia buried with her body. In time, he would take all of her painful what ifs and convert them into hopeful will bes, focus her gaze, slowly but surely, in a future as brilliant as her.

For now, though, he let her rest against him. The warmth of his family protecting her.

“How are you?” He asked softly.

“Not okay.” His heart clenched. Penelope’s eyes wandered quickly over each of the Bridgertons’ faces before finally landing on his. He saw his salvation there, as he always did, and she gave him a sweet, small smile that he mirrored. “But I will be.”

-

+1

It was Thursday and they were talking on the phone, Colin had her on speaker, while Penelope packed for her upcoming business trip and he wrapped his kitchen in plastic Dexter-style.

“I hate packing.” Penelope whined; he chuckled in response.

“How much are you taking anyways? It’s just a three-day trip.” Colin teased her as he was well aware of her over-packing tendencies.

“Yeah, but there’s also two fancy dinners, lunches and breakfasts, all of which Danbury will attend and you know how she is when it comes to dress code.” He winced in sympathy as he made sure the edges of the counter were covered with enough tape so it wouldn’t slide off. “I’ve got 11 outfits which include but are not limited to: two floor length dresses, two suits, a cocktail dress, three midi-dresses and three shirt and skirt combos with tights depending on whether the weather decides to behave or not.”

“Pen…” He tried, he really did, but, in the end, he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. She threatened to end the call. “No, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Giggles still escaped him and he gave up for the time being on the corner of the counter he’d been working on as he got his breath back. “It’s just… don’t you think that’s a lot? Even for you?” His tone denoted his still present amusement.

She sighed and he finally got his laughter under control. “Believe me, I know.” She groaned and a zap of arousal traveled up his spine. Gosh, he truly was a lost cause. “It’s just… this is so important.” Her voice had gone soft and vulnerable and, immediately, all mirth left him.

“Pen, it’s exactly because of that that I know you’ll do great. There’s no way you don’t understand the significance of this” He softened his voice. “You’ve been waiting since you were 11 for this. Give yourself some grace and believe in all the work you’ve put in until now.” She made a little sound and he knew she needed a moment.

She had been working at Danbury’s for well over a year now and, in that time, she’d proven to be one of the best writers there. She was still in the entertainment side of it, just now in Danbury’s online blog with tens of thousands of visits per day instead of a few thousands a week. Her column had migrated seamlessly and readers had followed her and the already established audience at Danbury had welcomed her. Colin couldn’t have been prouder of what she’d achieved.

Penelope was now heading to Edinburgh for Danbury’s annual internal pitching contest. Every branch sent two people to showcase one or two manuscripts each during the three-day event. Two out of thirty participants would get a contract for a limited printing. Penelope, after just missing the cut the year before, was on for the Saturday schedule. Colin had jumped in to help her prepare, trained her as best as he could in the art of selling an idea and engaging an audience. She would nail it, he knew she would, she just needed to believe it.

“I guess… I’m just so damn scared. This could be it, you know? What if I suck and they never consider me again? Maybe I should just stick to my column, to what I know I’m good at. I feel like the moment I open my mouth all that will come out is nonsense and all your hard work in my pitch will be for nothing.” The stream of words left her with such speed he had to take a second to process it.

“Woah, okay, you’re going for worst-case scenario and you haven’t even stepped foot in Scotland, Pen.” He reaccommodated himself until his back was against his yet-to-be covered stove. “You’ve been preparing for this. I helped you with your pitch, true, but those were your words, I only made some minor changes to maximize impact. Also, you already generate so much traffic for Danbury. Do you really think she’s not eager to tap into added revenue? Plus, if there was no value in your writing, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation because you wouldn’t have been selected.”

He heard her inhale which meant she was about to interrupt him but he didn’t let her. “I know they’ve been itching to get you into that printing room as soon as possible. Last year didn’t happen because you had to refine your ideas, work on your plots; which you’ve done. What you need now is to remember that as much as your column is beloved, the stories you’ll be sharing soon will be even more so.”

For a second, the other end of the line was silent.

“God, how do you always know what to say?” She let out a wet sounding laugh. “I feel like I need a new adjective to describe how utterly remarkable you are, Colin Bridgerton.”

She wasn’t there, so he let her words wash over him, felt them wrap around his heart, melt his bones and stretch his lips into a loopy grin. Colin was the one that had just done a fucking speech and yet, here he was, mind blank and high off Penelope’s praise. He swallowed and blinked rapidly to disperse the pink-hue cloud of emotion that threatened to take him under.

“I’m just saying it how it is, how I’ve seen it go down from my privileged front row seat.” His voice was raspy and he didn’t try to hide it, she hummed back.

“Perfect.” His throat clogged and he felt a little lightheaded. “You’re the perfect best friend.” He could just imagine her gleeful expression as she thought she was paying him a compliment while her words split his heart in two. He was used to the sensation, though, the sting a long-time companion, and he recovered quickly.

“I just want you to be happy, Pen, that’s all I want.” He went sticky soft with honesty, a tendency nowadays, his chest filling with longing.

“I want you to be happy too.” Her voice was clear and sincere. He wanted to cry, for the only thing that could make him truly happy was her and he would never be able to have her. “There’s nobody who deserves to be happier than you, Colin.”

“Now you’re changing the subject.” Deflection was easy, a tried-and-true path to stop the shattering of his heart. Colin needed the focus to be on her. “You’re going to absolutely smash it, Pen. Even if you don’t feel confident now, believe in what you’ve done, in the career you’ve made by and for yourself, the years of work. It’s all about to bloom, you just need to let it happen.”

“I wish I could hug you right now.” Penelope’s voice was hushed, filled with fondness, and the urge to run to her pressed down on Colin with such force it was difficult to draw breath.

“Me too.” Breaking his own heart would always be right if it was for her.

-

“I think we should hang up. I won’t finish if you continue to entertain my rambles.” Colin could clearly hear Penelope’s amusement as well as a note of regret at having to stop talking to him; he smiled at the thought that she was loath to part from him in whichever capacity just like him.

“I like your ramblings.” He heard her gasp and was quick to change the subject. “I’m also curious how you’re going to fit all those clothes in just one bag. Be sure to send me a pic once you’re done.”

“Forget I ever said anything nice about you, you’re horrible.” Colin laughed and she giggled before huffing. “I’m just glad Cressida won’t be there. That’s, at least, one less thing to worry about.” He felt the smile slip from his face at that name.

“She barely knows how to type her name so that’s no great surprise.” He had no ounce of tolerance for Penelope’s colleague.

“That’s so mean… but you’re not wrong.” It was Penelope’s turn to snort. “I would truly love to know what her family has on Danbury! Her last article had three paragraphs with three lines each and eight pictures… EIGHT, Colin!”

“Maybe she thought she’d been traded to the children’s branch, you know, to match with her IQ.”

“Colin, she uses “they are” and “their” interchangeably.”

“My god, what did Danbury do?”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Well, at least you know she’ll never get a chance at pitching.”

“Not for a lack of trying.” The darkness in her voice took him by surprise. “I saw her snooping around Rae’s computer before the submission deadline. I’m sure she was trying to steal her files.”

“She didn’t try that with you, did she?” Colin’s hands were balled into fists at his sides.

“No, no. I always lock my computer.” He felt himself relax a little. “Rae had left to get a package at the counter on the first floor and I went to get coffee. Cressida was there when I came back. She said she was “looking for the edited print out” of her latest article. She didn’t have any submissions scheduled.” Penelope’s annoyed huff echoed his sentiments exactly. “I really wanted to say something but she left before I could. When Rae came back, she told me Cressida wouldn’t have been able to get anything even if she had found her manuscripts since all of them are password blocked.” A resigned sound left her. “I wanted to tell Danbury but Rae didn’t want to and since it was her work I figured I shouldn’t push.”

“Did Danbury kill someone? Honestly, what does that family have on her?” His disbelief was apparent but his chest warmed at her laugh.

“I knoooow! I’m dying to know as well.” Longing curiosity bled into her tone. “Guess it’ll always remain a mystery.” He hummed in response.

“As long as she doesn’t try anything like that with you.”

“Hopefully, if everything goes well, I won’t have to see her any longer.” He could hear her zipping something up. “Anyways, I really need to figure this packing situation.” Her voice went soft and he closed his eyes to soak it up. “I probably won’t have any time tomorrow since I have to go to work before I board the plane, but talk to you on Saturday?”

“For sure, I’ll be your personal alarm clock so you don’t miss networking breakfast.” Penelope groaned and Colin laughed lightly while opening his eyes.

“Don’t remind me, I have half a mind to not go just so I don’t have to wake up before 6 am on a weekend.”

“Get packing, Penelope.” His voice went a little stern and lower than he would’ve liked and he winced slightly but before he could correct himself, Penelope answered.

“Yes, sir.” The breathy way in which she said it had his pulse jumping.

Lost, Colin was well and truly lost.

-

It took him another hour and a half to finish up covering the floor, counters, stove and dish washer. The latex gloves kept getting stuck to the tape he was using but they were a needed precaution given the high profile and risk factor of his next kill.

Cressida Cowper hadn’t been a problem at first. She actually hadn’t been the talk of the town because she was the typical nepo baby who had gotten a spot for the sports section at Danbury’s blog thanks to her parents pulling strings. No, what had had everyone talking was that it was widely known that Danbury didn’t let people in no matter how important their connections unless they had real talent. Cressida had been working as a model before coming to Danbury’s, nothing that wasn’t an Instagram caption to her name, but she’d strutted in to Danbury’s offices with the air of a seasoned writer.

More than one eyebrow had been raised, but nobody dared say anything so the questions regarding her employment were left to hushed tones and speculations that went from Cressida being Danbury’s illegitimate daughter to enough money being owed to feed a small country. Regardless, it wasn’t something anybody had an answer to and so, it quickly became old news even if the intrigue persisted. Furthermore, as sports and entertainment usually didn’t cross, per Danbury’s orders as she wanted to keep things as clean cut as possible, Penelope hadn’t had to interact with the Cowper heiress until 6 months after she was hired.

To say that it was a less than stellar meeting would be an understatement.

Danbury had wanted complimentary articles between the sports and entertainment segments after one of the biggest pop stars in the planet started dating a tight end American football player. The idea was to create three pieces: one detailing her career, another going over his and then a final one that went over how their paths had crossed and romance blossomed.

Kara, the editor in chief of the blog, had introduced them and given them the project as they were the top writers in their respective sections; or, at least, Penelope was. Cressida had been pleasant, charming even, while Kara had been there and Penelope had been excited about the opportunity and challenge of getting the pieces out in a week and a half. Unfortunately, things and her enthusiasm had gone down the drain the moment Kara had left them to start working on an outline.

Cressida had not wasted a second informing Penelope that she would be writing her article and the joint one on her own as “someone like you, who can’t even dress herself, won’t be able to write anything worthy of this project. Try not to embarrass me with whatever scraps you manage to put together and let those of us who actually have talent do what needs to be done” and then walked out on her.

Penelope had been angry-crying while telling him and Colin had added Cressida’s name to his black list. To Penelope’s credit, she had taken Cressida’s insult as a challenge to do all three articles by herself. She barely got any sleep for 4 days straight but managed to finish in record time. When she had submitted them, Cressida had had only two lines of the sport’s article down; she had hoped to push for an extension. Danbury had questioned why Penelope had worked solo when she’d specifically asked for a collaborative effort but her tune changed quickly when Penelope told her what Cressida had said during their first meeting.

In the end, they had used Penelope’s pieces; her name was on all three of them, while Cressida’s was just in hers plus the joint one although her name always appeared second despite Danbury’s “names in alphabetical order” rule. Penelope had been satisfied and Cressida had gone the most unflattering shade of red although she had had to nod her head in agreement; all of this Colin knew because Penelope told him while they ate at her favorite expensive restaurant, his treat.

After it was all over, most people would’ve thought Cressida would’ve taken a step back and avoided Penelope like the plague given the humiliation suffered… except she didn’t. While before they had barely crossed paths, now Cressida seemed to always be there whenever Penelope was alone at the office.

It had started with bumping into each other and little comments thrown over her shoulder. Cressida never made it overtly, but she also made sure that Penelope always heard her. Penelope’s appearance was Cressida’s favorite target and every time Penelope recounted what Cressida had said he wanted nothing more than to put a bullet between her eyebrows as he heard insecurity crawl back up to the surface of Penelope’s confidence.

Years under the same roof as Portia, Prudence and Phillipa had led to Penelope developing a rather thick skin and poker face. However, she was only human and, by that point with Portia being gone and her sisters not having been a part of her life in a long while, her defenses weren’t as high or well-placed as they used to.

“You really like blush, don’t you?”

“Literally, so brave of you to wear that, I could never!”

“I admire you, a red lip with hair that bright?”

“Do you know about the color wheel? It’s literally so useful.”

“Whoever gave you that shirt, you should cut ties with them.”

“Are you ever uncomfortable with all of that on display?”

“A trip or two to the gym would just make that skirt look fantastic on you.”

“You know? A pair of nice heels would really help getting you where you want to be, just saying.”

“Bending over truly is a talent of yours, isn’t it?”

Little by little the constant poison picked at Penelope’s nerves although she tried her best to not let it show. She would act as if she didn’t hear Cressida and then she would come to Colin’s apartment to sulk and try to disappear into his couch. He would then have to ply and coax until she told him what Cressida had said and then sooth her until the frown left her face and she relaxed in his arms enough to fall asleep. It had happened one too many times and had only furthered the plotting he’d been doing ever since the joint article debacle.

Nevertheless, the other side of the coin was that the Cowpers were an influential family. He’d known about them since his mother and Cressida’s went to the same restaurant his mother went to for Sunday brunch. It was a known place for the London socialite and Violet had always belonged to that scene. So, even as their inner circles didn’t meet, in his periphery, he had been aware of the existence of the Cowper family and the extent of their influence.

The climb towards getting Cressida out of the picture would be the most exhausting and ambitious yet given the risks and eyes that would be looking afterwards. However, she needed to be gone. Every time Penelope had ended up curled up tight to his side with moisture at the corners of her eyes had only reaffirmed that Cressida wasn’t worth the air she breathed nor the space she occupied. Sadly, she wasn’t a high school classmate nor a potential partner with a shady background, she was the daughter of an old money family. Colin had to be careful, swift and precise if he was to escape unscathed and undetected.

With all of that in mind, he spent months tracking her down, following her from a distance, mapping her schedule and tracing her movements. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed, but it was necessary if things were to go down as intended. He needed as few witness as possible, to contain liabilities and control each step. He wouldn’t be able to take the Debling route as Cressida didn’t frequent places which price tags didn’t start with less than three digits nor the Johnson one as she wasn’t someone whom a suicide fit; too full of herself for it.

And so, Colin became her unknown shadow. He saw her don her top bitch persona and relish in distress. The spotlight was her favorite place and she resented anyone who tried to take the focus she thought was hers no matter where she was. She expertly weaved insults into harmless sounding remarks and left others either bursting into tears or on the brink of them. She was a disgusting, soulless excuse of a woman that delighted in tormenting others.

It had been relatively easy to come up with a plan, but it involved his flat and Penelope was almost always over, which made it particularly difficult to execute although he could never be mad at her staying over. Nevertheless, and thanks to Danbury’s pitching competition, he now had the perfect opening and he wouldn’t waste it.

Cressida went to the same club, White’s, a twenty-minute drive from his flat, every Friday night. She would get there around 8 pm, go out for a smoke through the VIP exit door between 9:15 to 9:30, without exception, and then wouldn’t leave until 1 or 2 in the morning drunk as all hell and stumbling into a Bentley with her poor driver fighting sleep. He saw as rage filled her face whenever he wasn’t quick enough to open her door and stomping on his feet with her heel; outraged didn’t even begin to cover how Colin felt and how every single one of her actions cemented his belief that very few people would mourn her.

Despite the club’s fancy interior and high entrance fee, or maybe because of it, security was only tight at the main door but practically non-existent both inside and out back. Colin got there at about 8:35 using a back alley and leaned against the brick wall, black umbrella resting beside him, waiting for the moment Cressida came out and he could set his plan into motion. Meanwhile, he decided to look at his phone and read Penelope’s messages from three hours before.

Pen: Boarding starts in an hour. Wish me luck!

Pen: Charger’s inside my suitcase.

Pen: My phone’s about to die but I’ll talk to you once we get to the hotel.

Colin had felt a little uncomfortable not being able to contact Penelope for so long, but she always made good on her word so he didn’t worry too much. Moreover, the priority at the moment was to get Cressida. He was wearing an all-black outfit, as was his preference, except his trousers were one of his nicest ones. His jacket had a monogrammed mini-Gucci logos all over and his loafers had a gold buckle with it. He had shaved and styled his hair and while it was a shame that it was all because of Cressida he’d had little choice given that she would never go with him if he didn’t fit the image of wealth she was always in the hunt for.

The backdoor swung open and through it came out a rather drunk looking Cressida Cowper; a quick look at his phone told him it was 9: 22, within scehdule. She was wearing her hair down, red lips and a pale gold short dress with matching heels. Stumbling a little and muttering under her breath, she reached for the inside of her clutch bag.

“Fuuuuuuck, where i-i-is it? Stu-stupid sm-small bag can’t even f-fit a fag right.” Her voice was nasal and stuttered and Colin raised an eyebrow unimpressed, but then he let a smile overtake his face. This made things infinitely easier. He reached for his pocket and pulled out the Treasurer London he had bought specifically for this.

“I have one if you don’t mind these?” His voice was smooth and had Cressida snapping to attention. Colin could see her scan him from head to toe, stopping on the brand names she could see, before making eye contact and a smirk appearing on her face.

Hook.

“Who am I to t-tu-turnt down such a handsome off-ff-offer?” She stumbled once again and he reached a hand out to steady her. She batted her eyelashes as she took another step and almost cuddled into his side. “What a gle-gentle-ggentleman.”

“Someone as beautiful as you should always have someone ready to swoop in.” Colin’s tone wasn’t genuine at all but he didn’t think she minded with how out of it she seemed.

“A flat-flatterer.” Colin shuddered as Cressida placed a hand on his chest. Her eyes turned heated.

Line.

“It’s not flattery when it’s the truth.” Her perfume was so strong Colin wanted to gag.

“A flirt! I must’ve lucked out tonight.” Her first full sentence; it started to rain. Quickly, he reached for his umbrella and covered her with it. She gave him a satisfied smile.

“Couldn’t agree more.” And even as he wanted to put a mile of distance between them, the way she so easily wrapped her arms around his left one felt like a sign that things were going to go just fine.

Sinker.

-

The car ride had been filled with Cressida’s giggles and a smile Colin had had to paste on as he moved her hand every time she tried to reach for his crotch. The rain had come down even harder while they made their way to the car and driving while making sure he didn’t crash had been all the more difficult by her touchy-feely drunkenness; the usual twenty minute turned thirty-five drive felt eternal. When he finally parked, it was with an internal sigh of relief and a quick exit to escape the sickly-sweet scent of her perfume.

“Eager much, handsome?” Her slurring had gotten a bit under control and she looked up at him with hooded eyes as she took his offered hand and slumped against him.

“Just can’t wait.” He said with false cheer and that sent her into another giggling fit as he half dragged her to the elevators.

Cressida continued to cling to him and he looked up to see the floors go by until they got to his. There were 4 apartments on it, including his, but the only other occupied belonged to an older lady who didn’t go out after 6 pm and went to bed at 8:30; she would be sound asleep now and he would be able to do what he needed to without worrying about anyone hearing or seeing something. He made quick work of the lock and let Cressida in first, the tension in his body dissipating as he closed the door softly behind himself and put his jacket in the hanger.

“Nice… a litt-little small.” Cressida had taken a few measured steps into the flat and was making her way towards the kitchen.

Colin took the thin dagger he’d left by the bowl at the entrance and took measured steps towards her. Cressida had stopped in front of his plastic covered fridge.

“Are you renova-“ She had been about to turn around when Colin put his hand over her mouth and plunged the dagger into the left side of her neck with the other. He felt her twitch rather violently, her hands coming to claw at his sleeved covered forearms. A little scream tried to make its way out of her throat, but he took care of it by gripping the hilt firmly and punching forward and down on it. With her vocal cords taken care of, her struggle became frantic for a few seconds before the strength in her legs left; she slumped in his arms.

“Remember you will always be second to Penelope, Cressida.” She jolted a little at the name and Colin smiled as he pushed on the dagger even if it wouldn’t go any further. A stuttered breath left her and his voice turned gleeful. “While people will happily shove you into oblivion, she will thrive in the light of success because she has everything you lack.”

The whole thing took a minute, if that, and when her weight dragged her down, Colin took the dagger out and quickly let go. Cressida fell to the floor like a puppet with cut off strings. The pool of blood she landed on framed her body and satisfaction filled him. It was done and it had gone according to plan. Now, he just needed to wrap her up in the plastic, put her into a double lined black trash bag and stuff her int-

The sound of the lock turning and his door opening had him swinging around at a neck-breaking speed.

“Colin?” In came Penelope clad in a matching gray zip up hoodie and sweatpants, her red hair cascaded around her while she pulled on 2 big suitcases. He would’ve jumped to help her if his mind hadn’t just been blown to pieces.

It was over.

Colin saw it in slow motion. Penelope’s gaze lighting up at the sight of him only to drag down and land on the dagger still clutched in his hand; blood coating and dripping down the blade. Eyes widening as she saw Cressida’s body in a heap just behind him. The ringing in his ears got so loud it was all he could hear. He could vaguely feel himself drop the dagger as his vision swam and a white veil covered everything. A three-word echo bouncing in his head.

It was over.

It was over.

It was over.

It was over.

And then it was only two.

She knew.

She knew.

She knew.

Shew knew.

She kn-

What… was that?

Something…

Someone… was touching his face?

He barely felt it at first, his senses too dulled and his brain overwhelmed with a clawing feeling of loss. But the touch was insistent and little by little he felt it more and more. First, softness against his cheeks, then there was the cupping of his face and lastly, tiny scratches on his neck. As sensation started to creep back in, he heard her calling his name.

“Colin! Colin! COLIN!” Crying… She… She was crying and that more than anything had him fighting against the stupor clouding him. “Colin, please!” One of her hands was clutching at the thin material of his jacket while the other was around his neck. “Colin, say something!”

Slowly, as if only just remembering how to use his body, his arms moved, bare hands fisting the fabric of her shirt by her hips, his gloves were gone, and her little hiccups drummed in his ears.

“Colin?” Penelope sounded terrified.

All at once, color and sound rushed in and Colin gasped as air filled his lungs all at once. He hugged her tightly, his heart galloping inside his chest and the one to gasp this time was her as her arms matched his iron grip around his waist.

“Pen… Pen… PenPenPenPenPen.” Her name the only word that came to mind, the sound running into itself and making it lose all sense.

“It’s okay.” Penelope was always so gentle, so understanding of everything, her voice a guide back to the present, to her. “Come on, come back, come back to me.” Her hands started moving up and down his back, the movement soothing but firm and a little hypnotizing.

Colin tried to bring her more into his arms even as there was no space between them left. Resentment, towards himself, filled him. He should be able to drown in her, the barrier of physicality notwithstanding, mold to her skin and fuse with her bones in order to find refuge. The pained sound muffled by his face hidden in her hair had her digging her nails into his back.

“It’s alright, Colin. You’re fine. We’re fine. Breathe slowly, love.”

Love.

Love.

Love.

She had called him love.

All at once, things slowed down. His emotions were still all over the place, but the calmness that suddenly hit him brought tears to his eyes and he cried silently into her hair.

“Why… why are you back?” His voice sounded rough, chocked, immeasurably sad and he wished that it weren’t so but panic was slowly clawing its way up his throat again even as she clutched him just as tightly as he was her.

“Colin.” Penelope tried pulling back and Colin resisted at first before letting out a rattling breath as he felt a part of himself die knowing that would be the last time he held her. Surely, now that he wasn’t catatonic, the reckoning was coming and he wanted to die.

Except she… she didn’t push him away nor was she actually trying to leave his arms. In fact, while he was dropping them, she took hold of them and wrapped them around herself once more. Blue met blue as his eyes shot to hers. They were kneeling, when did that happen?

“Colin, it’s fine.” It wasn’t. “It is, I’m telling you it is.” Her voice was measured but her hands shook a bit as they settled on his face holding it gently. “Breathe with me.” He didn’t think he could. His eyes darted all over her face and he felt his ribcage expanding in short bursts. She took one of his hands and placed it on her chest, above her heart, the beat a little quick but not quite jumping like his. “Feel that? Follow it, follow me.”

Colin closed his eyes and concentrated on the rhythm set by the rise and fall of her chest beneath his palm, the slight chill of her hand on top of his own a contrast point, her sweet voice a beacon. Their foreheads touched and he exhaled softly. His gulp was loud, the second even more so. Opening his eyes filled him with dread but he had to look at her, see as the truth of him extinguished the light that he’d secretly considered his.

For the second time since Penelope walked in, she surprised him.

Her eyes were slightly red, her face a little pinched, but the blue he’d thought he’d find full of disgust or fear of him in reality reflected concern. Concern for him. She ran one hand into his hair, tugging a little at the strands while the other looped around his neck directing him to bend a little so they could be at eye level.

“Listen to me.” He felt like drowning, going under the current of her gaze, an ocean in which he could finally breathe. “There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, that would ever change my mind about you. About the kind, good-hearted, amazing man that’s always been there for me. I know that whatever you’ve done, you did for a reason. I trust you. I trust you. I just want to know what happened and how I can help.” The conviction in her eyes melted away any reserves he might have had even if his nervousness didn’t dissipate. “Let me in. Let me see you.” The velvet soft of her voice did him in.

“I… I…” The knot in his throat was a hard one to swallow. Colin wasn’t just going to explain Cressida, because, if Penelope wanted to know, he would share all of it with her. His heart picked up and he took a deep breath to try and not let the sense of doom consume him. “Do you remember Marina?” Her left eye twitched.

“Yeah… she had a crush on you.” At any other moment, the hint of jealousy in her tone would’ve made him smile. In this instance, though, nerves crawled up his throat as he was unable to interpret anything accurately.

“I heard her speaking to you, saying how I needed to be steered in the right direction, to her.” Even with bile in his mouth the disgust that Marina’s memory evoked had his tone darkening. “That day, I told her to meet me after the rehearsal and I dropped the reflector on her as I told her how utterly insignificant she would always be compared to you.” Colin could feel the words forming and leaving his tongue before he had time to fully process them. His brain opting for getting it all out at once, fast.

“Then Johnson, you were so stressed, and all because he didn’t know how to manage his grief. I couldn’t watch and do nothing.” He saw Penelope’s eyes widen a little but he pushed on. “I got a rope and put it around his neck but he sat on the edge of that window of his own volition. He had pills on his desk and that handwritten note ready.” He gulped. “I would’ve done it even if he hadn’t already been thinking about it.”

“Debling…” Colin could see the gears in her mind turning and felt his hands sweating even as a spark of irrational jealousy turned his stomach. The man was dead and Colin was admitting to his murder for fuck’s sake. “Why did he think he was good enough? What in the world made him so sure he was deserving of even breathing the same air as you? In no universe should a goddess expect anything less than worship and he treated you as if you were a pebble just like him.” If Colin hadn’t been so deep in his indignation, he would’ve seen the sparkle that had started to shine in Penelope’s eyes the more he talked. “He was dust dampening your shine. The fact that he couldn’t even grasp something as simple as that showed he would never be worthy. No one will ever be and he needed to be reminded of that.” His voice went a little detached. “But even if he had been perfect, if he’d taken you to the nicest restaurant and been a gentleman, he wouldn’t have deserved you.” He blinked a little and looked to the side, the acid burning his throat as the next confession burst forth.

“Portia…” Colin said it in a whisper and Penelope’s gasp made him flinch and close his eyes. Her nails dug a little into the skin of his neck, a sting. “She tormented you for so long. I saw you break down and rebuild yourself only for her to then undo it and leave you in shambles. The ideas she put into your head, the lies she fed you, the tears you shed… it drove me fucking mad, Pen.” He could feel tears forming behind his eyelids and his voice rasping. “I had been thinking about it for so long, but I held back because she was your mother and we had both lost a parent and you always looked so happy whenever she said something nice or you patched things up.”

Colin took a rattling breath. “But the last time was so bad, you were so out of it and it scared the living hell out of me. I couldn’t lose you because of her, Pen, I wouldn’t survive it, I can’t.” Tears escaped and he clenched his eyes to try and stop the flow. “You told me about her allergy a couple of months after we met.” He once again pitched his voice lower. “Macaroons are traditionally made with almond flower. Simple, efficient and painful.” He opened his eyes but tears blurred his vision. “And I would do it again. I would do it again because you’re so good and deserve so much better. The fact that she refused to see it was a lousy excuse to try and sabotage you.”

Colin turned his face to the ceiling.

“Cressida was a sorry excuse for a human.” His jaw ticked. “Worthlessness trying to pass off as competent is what she was. What she tried to do you, to hog the spotlight and then harass you? Lessons are for those who need them and she needed the toughest of them all. And, to be honest, I don’t think that many will miss her.” With trepidation, he lowered his eyes to hers again.

He gasped, surprise filling his expression as he took hers in.

Penelope’s eyes were liquid with wonder, mouth slightly agape and a soft blush covering her cheeks. She looked… in awe and… Colin was utterly confused. Her hands had naturally dropped to his chest and he felt as they traveled to his face. Her thumbs stroked beneath his eyes, wiping the tear tracks. Her right hand curled into itself and rested against his left cheek while her other touched his jaw with the gentlest caress.

“You… you did all of that for… for me?” The intensity of her gaze trapped him, the breathiness of her voice wrapping around his heart.

“Yes.” No hesitation.

“Why?” Astonishment, she still didn’t understand.

“Because I…” In the grand scheme of things, this should be the least of Colin’s worries when it came to baring his soul to Penelope, but, inexplicably, it felt like the hardest thing to confess. He saw as doubt started to creep in, the corner of her eyes tightening just a smidge. He let out a heavy breath, gulped and decided that if there was one thing she needed to take away from it all if this was to be the end, it was this. “Because I love you.” It would’ve been funny how her eyes got bigger if he hadn’t been terrified and if his heart hadn’t been pounding aggressively against his chest. Go figure this was what sent him into cardiac arrest.

“Colin.” Penelope wanted to say something, but Colin had to tell her. This was going to be the only chance he got and even if she couldn’t reciprocate, if she didn’t want to, she had to know. His hands came up to cup hers and he held them against his skin.

“Ever since your cute yellow hat tripped me up, I’ve never been the same. I was living in a world where no one truly saw me, drifting aimlessly trying to alleviate my mother and Anthony’s burden by not being one. My standing within my own family felt like it held no weight. I wasn’t old enough to truly help but I was old enough to understand the tragedy, to feel my father’s absence.” Colin smiled slightly as he saw Penelope’s eyes fill with tears. “Big families, as much as they can support you, they also have the potential to make you feel invisible and while I know that was never their intention, I felt like an afterthought, the classic forgotten middle child syndrome.” A humorless chuckle before he sobered again. “Even if I didn’t know what it was back then, the purposelessness of it all suffocated me.” He breathed in, pulled at his lower lip with his teeth for a second before continuing.

“Until I found you.” A gasp. “My perfect fit, my missing piece. Always slotting right into all I’ve been, am and hope to be. You’ve haunted my dreams, consumed my thoughts and ensnared my soul. You saw me, truly saw me, and made me feel like I could be enough. My heart stopped being mine when I was thirdteen and I couldn’t be happier that it’s yours. That there is nothing of me that doesn’t belong to you. And I know I don’t deserve you, that I’ve done unforgivable, horrible things in the name of my love and I’m aware that is a meager excuse but…” Colin felt a little strangled but he pushed against it until the words hung between them. “But it is the truth. I’m at your mercy because I love you. I adore you. Breathing is meaningless without you.”

There was little air in his lungs after that and tears prickled his eyes again as Penelope remained silent. She opened and closed her mouth a few times.

“You’ve always been enough, Colin.” Her words were softly spoken and his tears fell at how sure she sounded. “I love you.” A radiant smile took over her face, his heart stopped. “I love you!”

Penelope’s arms went around his neck, cheek to cheek and chest to chest. Colin was stunned for a second before he gathered her into his arms and crushed her to him.

“You silly, silly man.” Penelope laughed and warmth filled his chest. She pulled back a little and looked into his eyes with happiness practically bursting from her. “You’re all I’ve wanted since I was eleven. The moment you smiled at me I was lost in you.” More tears fell and he blinked them away so he wouldn’t miss a second of her. “You… All you’ve done, you’ve done for me, no one has ever had me as a priority.” Her voice was resigned, pain apparent, Colin’s hands squeezed her sides. “Not my parents’ nor my sisters’ nor any potential partner or friend. But you… I can’t believe you’re real.” At this, she caressed the side of his face and he thoughtlessly leaned into it, a giggle escaped her. “I don’t need to forgive you because there is nothing to forgive. Nobody has ever treated me like you do, cared for me like you do. You see me, you get me, you complete me. There could never be anyone else for me but you.”

There was a beat of silence as they just stared into each other’s eyes. Penelope was smiling, Colin was crying and then, without having to say anything, they both leaned in.

It was a soft touch of lips, barely a kiss, and he could feel his lower lip trembling. Slowly, afraid of waking her from the spell they were under, he brushed his fingers under her chin and tilted her head so he could fit his lips more firmly to hers.

“Colin.” Penelope sighed a few second later and it was just like he’d imagined she would sound except better because it was real. He was kissing Penelope Featherington, Penelope Featherington was kissing him, she knew about what he’d done and she was kissing him and it felt like coming home.

Colin started leaving small, smacking kisses against Penelope’s lips, chin, the apples of her cheeks, was rewarded with another giggle and couldn’t help but return to her mouth to trace the contours of her smile. Little by little she started opening up to him and her tongue peeked out. He ran his teeth softly along her bottom lip, catching it as he pulled away a little.

Penelope whined and Colin felt his control slip.

Colin’s tongue demanded access as he sucked her upper lip into his mouth. Penelope’s gasp granted him what he was looking for and as their tongues got acquainted it became slick and hot. She was basically perched on his lap with him on his haunches and even as his thighs burned, he didn’t let go. In fact, his grip went from her hips to her arse to get her even closer. He could feel the give of her skin even through her clothes and the urge to get to it was driving him to the brink.

Her surprised gasp had him smirking and leaving open-mouthed kisses down her neck. He grunted slightly when he was met with the collar of her hoodie. His hands, loathe as he was to do it, left her bottom and went to unzip it. She finished taking it off and threw it somewhere behind them. The small separation had the right amount of oxygen flow into his brain and before they could get back to it, he put his hands on her shoulders. Her sound of protest almost had him pulling her in again, but he needed to make sure.

“Pen…” He sounded winded and he cleared his throat. “Pen, did you understand what I said? Do you get what I’ve done?” As much as he would like to just ignore everything and get lost in her, he needed to make sure that she understood his confessions, all of them, particularly the ones that gave him a criminal record. Although, he kind of wanted to punch himself in the face and tell her to forget he said anything as his eyes took in the red of her lips, glistening and plump from his kisses, the lovely blush high on her cheeks and disheveled hair.

“Colin, you could’ve taken out ten times the amount of people you just told me about and I wouldn’t care.” Colin’s eyebrows rose and Penelope laughed. “Well, maybe I would’ve judged you a little, but I mostly would be curious about how you managed to do it.” Her eyes went liquid, she shuffled on her knees to him and he didn’t stop her this time while she cupped his face. “I understand, Colin, I know that what you did isn’t the standard or moral way, but I could never see it as bad or wrong when you only ever did it to protect me.” His treacherous eyes started to water again, why couldn’t he stop crying? “Besides, you were right. Marina was a conceited cow, professor Johnson an asshole, Debling a mistake, my mom…” Her pause had him holding his breath. “I have a bit of a confession to make.”

Colin stared at Penelope as she seemed to gather her courage.

“Remember what I told you after you managed to calm me down the day before her death?” Her hands had descended to his chest once more.

“You said you wished she was gone.” He’d taken her words and made them a reality even when he knew she couldn’t possibly mean what he wanted them to.

“I didn’t know, obviously, that you would actually do it but I had hoped…” Colin felt his brain working overdrive and still not being able to fully comprehend what Penelope was saying. “I had been thinking about how things would be so much easier if she wasn’t there anymore. I was weak to the idea of a mother, one which truly loved me, and as much as I wanted to cut her off, I just couldn’t. I would never have been able to even when I knew she wouldn’t ever change.” Her eyes filled with shame. “I wanted something to happen to her but I didn’t want to be the one to do it. I felt so guilty afterwards.”

Colin was about to say something but Penelope shook her head, he shut his mouth.

“Not for her, for you.” Now Colin was truly perplexed. “I put it out into the universe and it felt like I had somehow set you up. And you looked so guilty and sad.” She threw him a knowing glance and he couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth. “But to know that you did it intentionally.” Penelope’s expression changed and acquired a dreamy sort of quality that made the corners of her mouth turn up. Colin was mesmerized. “That you heard me and made my wish a reality because you couldn’t stand how I trapped myself.” Her voice went buttery and her hand on his face was reverent.

“That you did it even believing I would hate you for it. That I mattered more than your feelings, your sense of morality, your future if you were caught.” Penelope turned his face up and kissed his jaw making him gasp. “Even if I didn’t love you before, I would’ve fallen for you the moment I knew.” She pulled back to see his wide-eyed expression and gave him the most blinding smile. “It’s precisely because of all you’ve done that it has been and it will always be you that I love.”

Colin kissed her. He kissed her because no one would ever come close to how right she was for him. Because she didn’t love him in spite of what he’d done but because of it. Air was becoming scarce, he could feel his lungs protesting, but he didn’t care, he needed to keep kissing Penelope and she seemed to share the sentiment. Her hands were up in his hair and arms around his neck. Every time one of them created space between their mouths, the other followed.

Colin’s desperation was sticky. His hands went under her shirt and he felt Penelope shiver while his fingers stroked and kneaded. He wanted to touch everywhere, mark her up and map her out. With one hand around her waist, the other made its way up her chest and pulled up her shirt. As he, finally, cupped her breast, he moaned and she arched into his touch while undulating her hips.

“Pen, Pen, Pen.” Colin left Penelope’s lips, although his mouth stuck to the skin of her chin, his teeth dragging along it. “Please, please.” He was a mess; they were a mess, grinding against each other. It was just making the ache worse, but neither of them seemed inclined to part to get a better angle. “Pen, I-” His foot slipped and she let out a small squeak as her arms tightened around him. He regained his balance easily and they both looked down to see what had happened.

He was glad he’d had the foresight to use plastic as it would’ve been a pain in the ass to clean otherwise; his foot leaving a bloody trail behind as he moved it proof enough. Colin tensed up as he saw the scarlet rivulets that had webbed from Cressida’s crumpled form. In his frenzy, he had totally forgotten about the dead body beside them. He knew he should look at Penelope, it would most likely be fine, hopefully, maybe, but the years of dread at the idea of her discovery of him made it so his limbs felt like they were made of lead.

A gentle hand touched his jaw and turned his head. Penelope kissed the corner of his mouth.

“And Cressida? Fuck her, she was a bitch.” Colin could feel her smile against his face and he moved just enough to kiss her again; a chaste press of lips.

“Maybe we should move this somewhere else?” His voice was unsure but his hands roamed her curves, her sides, her tits over her shirt.

“I think that’s a good idea, yeah.” Penelope giggled. They were making out, there was a body behind them and she was giggling.

She couldn’t be any more perfect.

“Hold on to me.” Colin whispered against her ear. Her arms went around his shoulders and the feel of her nails digging in had him grinning as he put his hands under her thighs and stood up.

Penelope’s legs went around his waist and the feeling of her completely supported by him had his head spinning. He buried his face on the side of her neck and mouthed at it. He walked a few steps before stopping and taking his shoes off on the plastic so he wouldn’t leave bloody prints on the floor. Penelope just played with the hair at his nape and he squeezed her thighs in appreciation while walking.

“You know, I rather like this.” Colin felt her smile against his cheek and he chuckled. “I could definitely get used to being carried around by a handsome man.”

“Just say where you want to go and I’ll take you.” The tease was natural but he was also serious. She must’ve sensed it because she pulled back a little so she could look at his face.

“You really would, wouldn’t you?” Her eyes shone with fascination. He pushed her back against the wall besides his bedroom and used a hand to open the door.

“You just need to say the word, Pen.” The softness in his voice could be mistaken as nothing but adoration and her eyes welled up. Good, it wasn’t fair that he was the only one that was so overcome by emotion that tears made themselves known at any opportunity.

Colin’s hand went back to her thigh, pressing her more firmly against the wall and Penelope brought his mouth to hers in a close-mouthed but searing kiss. His hips slotted more firmly into hers and they both moaned slightly at the contact.

“Come on.” She pulled on his hair and he instinctively rolled his hips. “Colin.” Even if his eyes were closed, he could still feel her smile against his lips, her tone amused. “Take me to bed.” Well, what was a man to do but to obey?

Colin slowly pushed off the wall and once again buried his face in her neck. She smelled sweet, a combination of her raspberry and plumb blossom perfume with the sweat of her skin creating a dizzying mix. Penelope’s hands were also roaming. They went up in his hair, down his neck, grazed his ears and slightly scratched his back while she left small kisses on any part of his face her lips could reach.

As his shins touched the feet of the bed, he turned and sat down. Penelope moved in his lap until they were chest to chest and he was, at long last, able to fully appreciate her weight on him as their hands continued to explore. Soft, she had always been soft, but the way her skin gave under his fingers, molded to the pressure of his touch, felt different.

She kissed him a little wildly as he started pushing on her shirt, his hands splayed over her belly, ribs and chest. He couldn’t help giving her breasts a squeeze, the lacy black bralette barely encasing her, and she let go of him for a second to pull it over. Once off, her hands quickly made their way to the edge of his.

“Off, you need to take this off.” Her nails were tickling his abdomen and it jumped under her touch; he made quick work of his shirt.

His mouth attached itself to the bottom of her throat and sucked. Her hands were back in his hair, pulling at the strands. Colin made his way down, a trail of red following, until he was at the top of her right breast. He nuzzled her and as Penelope sighed, one of his hands made its way to her left breast while the other snuck under the band at her back.

Penelope arched as he dragged his teeth over her breast and his left hand found her nipple. He could feel her spilling from his hand and that just made him suck harder while his fingers pinched her. His right hand supported her back as she pushed her chest forward and he leaned further down until he could suck on her nipple through the fabric. The bralette was coarse under his tongue and she bucked into him. The sting of her nails on his neck and scalp only spurred him further.

“What-?” Penelope’s question died on her tongue as he let go and started pushing on the bralette to get it off. It was nice, and he would appreciate it some other time, but he needed to see her without it like he needed air.

“Beautiful.” Colin breathed as he saw her bare. “So fucking beautiful.” Nothing could compare to the absolute vision that was Penelope Featherington topless. Her nipples were a dusty pink as they stood to attention because of her arousal, the flush on her skin traveled from her cheeks all the way down to the middle of her chest and the hickeys he’d left behind looked like watercolor stains in the white canvas of her skin. He saw her arms twitch at her sides so he grabbed her wrists and spoke in a growl. “Don’t you dare hide them from me. I’ve dreamt about them for years.”

Penelope let out a startled laughed and he shook his head before smiling up at her, shy. “Then who am I to deny you, then?” Smile lines formed at the corner of her eyes, charm personified, but she also brought her arms together which pushed her breasts out and towards him. Colin didn’t waste a second and buried his face in between them even as more laughter spilled from her lips.

“Minx.” Her amusement died and transformed into a moan once more as he let go of her arms and his mouth sucked on a nipple again, his tongue doing circles around it. Once satisfied, he paid the same treatment to the other. Penelope was enjoying herself if the way she was pushing down on his erection was any indication and he could say the same as the blood in his head seemed in a hurry to his nether regions.

When he realized that if he wanted to continue leaving marks on her skin he would need to change positions, he quickly flipped them over and moved them further up the bed. He put his hands on her knees and gently pushed her legs open to make space for his body. She let herself be manhandled and as if that hadn’t been enough, the moment they made eye contact again had him going from burning to scalding.

Red curls strewn across the navy of his sheets, pupils blown wide, the blue a thin line around it, and the pads of her fingers were digging into his biceps while her hands seemed unable to stop grabbing at the muscle.

Oh, oh.

Colin smirked, one tinted with wickedness. “You like being picked up and tossed around, don’t you?” Penelope made as if to deny it, but then she nodded enthusiastically.

“You, you’re just so strong.” As she said the last word, her nails left stinging lines down his arms and he just had to kiss her.

They were both too worked up, trying to touch and pull and nip and squeeze all at the same time. The feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest had him panting into her mouth as he ground his hips down. Penelope wasn’t too far behind as she wrapped her legs around him. Colin had never experienced something like this and as they continued to rut against each other, he realized he needed to slow things down or they would end before he got his first real taste of her.

With what was herculean effort, Colin stopped moving his hips, but that didn’t stop Penelope, who seemed to not even have noticed as she continued her upwards motion, her feet digging into his lower back; he wanted to die. Using his right arm as leverage against the mattress, he used his left to push her hips down and pin her against it.

“Coliiiiin.” It shouldn’t have been funny, but the whiny, dragged-out way in which she said his name had him pressing his mouth against her shoulder to prevent the laughter from spilling out. “It’s not funny! Why did you stop?” She slumped against the bed which made him believe she would stay still so he propped himself onto his elbows, caging her head in between his arms.

“We need to slow down. For me, not you.” Colin felt his face heat up. “I’ve wanted this, you, for far too long and I’m afraid I’m about to reenact my 16-year-old self’s lack of control if we continue what we were just doing.” He moved some hair strands off her face. “I want this to last, Pen, okay?”

“Okay.” It was softly whispered with glimmering eyes and Colin couldn’t help the big, goofy smile that overtook his face. He kissed her, soft at first and then deeper. He had enjoyed pulling on her lower lip with his teeth, her soft gasp music to his ears, so he did it again before starting the trek down her body.

The arch of her neck, the dip of her throat, the valley of her collarbones, the swell of her breasts. Colin delivered kisses and licks along his path. He couldn’t help but flatten his tongue against her nipples and blow a little to hear her gasp. Pausing on the plushness of her belly was mandatory and he delighted in how warm and smooth it was, at how the skin there seemed to bruise easier. He traced the top of each silvery stretch mark with his tongue and as he was met with the waistband of her pants, he could help but nuzzle against her crotch.

“Colin!” Penelope sounded startled and Colin was about to pull away when he felt her hands pushing his face into her. Heat shot straight to his cock and he buried his nose there while the faint scent of her arousal made his mouth water. As her legs parted a bit to accommodate him, he opened his mouth and let the flat of his tongue soak the thin material through. Penelope tried to clamp her legs around his head, but his splayed hands on her thighs prevented that from happening which had her bucking into his mouth a little desperately; he needed to get his mouth on her.

Colin hooked the tips of his fingers on Penelope’s waistband and looked up only to have her instantly lift her hips. The dark gray stain just over her mound had him closing his eyes for a second and then he didn’t waste another one and dragged down all that was left covering her. He dropped both garments to the side and his gaze moved back to her and he was left breathless.

Expanses of creamy, soft skin and red, dear god, damp looking curls greeted him. He had never felt as turned in his life as he did at that moment kneeling by her feet. Penelope squeezed her thighs together, though, and he frowned a little and flitted a gentle touch to her ankles.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” He could see the apprehension written all over her face and he needed her to go back to that relaxed, melty state because this couldn’t be good for him if it wasn’t good for her. “All you have to do is tell me to stop and I will.” She had to understand that, no matter what, she had the final say in anything they did. She nodded. “I need to hear you say it, Penelope.” The sharpness of his voice had her breathing spiking and chest jumping. The sight was more than a little distracting.

“I understand.” Penelope’s voice was quiet but the doubt he’d seen was replaced by intrigue, her cheeks redder than before.

Interesting.

Slowly, Colin’s hands traveled from Penelope’s calves to her shins and up her thighs to part them. She resisted a little but as he swirled tiny figures with his thumbs, encouraging, she let them fall apart. He positioned himself between her legs and continued his trail of marks upon her skin while leaving biting kisses or tender licks at the stretch marks that continued beyond her hipbones.

By the time his chin felt the tickle of hair, Penelope was gripping fistfuls of the sheets by her sides. Colin smiled against her and used his teeth to pull a little on the curls at the top of her core. The whimper she let out had his heart beating a staccato rhythm inside his rib cage and he had to pull back a little so he could get a better hold on her.

Penelope was soaked. Arousal painted the inner parts of her thighs pink. Her pussy lips were engorged and slick, begging for his touch. He pushed on her legs a little, opening her up more to his hungry gaze. He could see her clit just peaking from atop, swollen.

Colin couldn’t wait anymore. He descended on her with the gusto of a starved man: open-mouthed. As the taste of her hit his tongue for the first time, he moaned and Penelope let out a strangled cry. He licked a stripe down her slit and back up to her clit and pursed his lips to better hold her in a wet seal. He was sure he was going to leave fingerprint-like bruises from where he was holding her open, fingers and nails indenting with a force he couldn’t quite get under control.

Penelope didn’t fight him, her legs spasmed in his hands only trying to close in reflex so she could trap him in between them. He kissed a pussy lip and she latched onto his hair to direct him where she wanted him, her hips grinding onto his face, and he let her direct his movements. As Colin returned to her clit, lapping gently even as she whined in protest, he covered a finger in her arousal before entering her slowly.

“Keep doing that, su-suck a little harder.” Colin let Penelope’s voice guide him as he pressed his hips against the bed to try and relieve some of the pressure. He was so hard and felt on the brink without practically being touched. “You c-c-can put in a-ano-ah!” Her instruction was cut off by his fingers curling inside her and finding that spongy spot that had her back arching, a scream stuck in her throat.

She started gyrating her hips around his digits while simultaneously trying to thrust up into his face. Her movements were uncoordinated, the obscene sounds making his head spin and as he continued to lap at her while barely breathing, uninclined to leave her cunt, the need to feel her cum on his face became unbearable.

Colin redoubled his efforts by pressing more firmly inside Penelope, a rapid drag and push against that spot that had her losing her train of thought. His tongue wrapped around her clit once more and one of his hands reached around her thigh to apply pressure on top of her mound. As her cries turned broken and hiccup-y, he tugged on her curls and scrapped his teeth just so over her clit while his fingers played a squelching symphony.

“ColinColinColinColin.” His name ran freely from her mouth and he pulled back just in time as a warm stream hit the lower half of his face. It took him a second to realize what was happening but then he was moaning against her, completely enamored. As she continued to twitch and clench around his fingers, he gently licked her, puffy pussy lips quivering under his ministrations. The pulsing subsided little by little but his heart felt ready to burst. She was gorgeous, absolutely amazing, and he told her as much in between kisses to where she was still quivering.

“Unbelievable.” A sigh, a lick. “You came on my face.” His voice was dreamy. “You squirted all over my fingers,” he kissed the half-moons his nails left behind, “my tongue.” He sucked a hickey on the right side of her mound, her leg spasming. “The most delicious pussy ever and you’re all mine.” Colin nuzzled Penelope’s trembling thigh, his face covered in her, and he let go of her legs to go up and look at her face.

Her chest was heaving, her tits bouncing up and down, his left hand going to her right breast, giving it an affectionate squeeze and making her moan softly. The blush on her face was bright and tears were clinging to her eyelashes while her mouth hung open, red and glistening, trying to get in as much oxygen as possible. Her eyes were twin night skies; dark, boundless and shimmering. The drunk-like smile she gave him as their gazes met broke him so he kissed her, sharing her taste with her. It was sweet and so unbelievably hot he felt ready to explode.

“Pen, my lovely, lovely, Pen, all mine.” With anyone else, he might have felt self-conscious, not sure of himself even in the face of such an intimate act, always on the fence about the reciprocity and depth of feeling. “My most darling treasure.” But with Penelope, knowing that she accepted all of him, there existed no such place for doubt. “Mine, mine, mine.” Their noses were bumping, lips grazing slightly, eyes closed.

Suddenly, Colin felt Penelope cup him and the groan he let out was nothing short of pained. His eyes shot open and he found mischievousness written all over her face.

“You should let me help you with that.” She was alight with post-orgasm glow but even as her words were confident, her expression turned unsure and shy. “I can’t promise I’ll be as good as others, but you can teach me.” Her eyes dripped earnestness but he was stuck in a very specific part and his face scrunched up.

“Others?” Colin’s tone was confused. “What others?”

“You know…” He really didn’t. “The ones before me.” Her expression was teasing, although a bit pinched and… could that be… wow.

“Pen,” he said with a tiny grin on his face even if he felt a smidge embarrassed. “There’s never been anyone before you.” Her eyes went comically wide.

“You have got to be joking.” Indignation was the last thing he expected, but it amused him just the same.

“Nope.” He cupped the side of her face and gave her a lopsided grin. “There’s only you.”

“You must have at least kissed someone before.” The furrow between her brows was adorable and he smoothed it with his thumb.

“I’ve kissed someone before, yeah.” Her eyes squinted a little and he laughed. “No need to be jealous, love.” Penelope blinked and blushed. God, she was ridiculous. “I knew almost immediately that I would never be able, nor want, to kiss anybody else but you.” Her breathing stuttered and he pecked her.

“But there were always all those rumors about you and your brothers. So many girls would brag about it!” A huff from his part.

“People love talking bullshit.” Colin’s tone was annoyed. “While most stories about Ant and Ben are true, I’ve never been one for meaningless hook ups.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I understood very early on that physical intimacy was only fulfilling for me when it was accompanied with emotional closeness. I kissed others because my brothers wouldn’t stop pestering me about it.” He got annoyed just thinking about it. “They were all nice girls, but even the most basic of touches, without feelings involved, left me feeling empty afterwards.” He wistfully smiled down at her. “And since I knew you were the only one for me, I just never bothered with anything like it beyond some spin the bottle games Ben forced me to join at a couple of parties.”

Penelope kissed him as soon as he stopped talking, the barely there tension melting from her body with every press of their lips. “I can’t believe you. I truly can’t believe you’re here, with me, and that you’re telling me this.”

“Sorry to disappoint if you were expecting experience. You probably have more of it than I do.” His smile was playful even as insecurity and jealousy hid in his tone. She pinched his bicep. “Hey! That hurt!”

“It was meant to.” She stuck her tongue out at him before a fond but exasperated look took over. “Didn’t you hear what I just told you? You could never disappoint me, Colin. Everything, anything, with you is perfect. You are perfect.” Would she ever stop making tears spring to his eyes? He hoped not. “I’ve got as much practical knowledge as you do.” Eagerness appeared alongside a smirk. “We can always learn together.”

“Penelope Featherington, you’re a dream come true.” Her satisfied giggle made him want to live in the corners of her lips so he would always be surrounded by the memory of her smile.

“You are my dream come true.” Dammit, dammit, dammit, she needed to stop that. Or better yet, continue to do it for the rest of their lives. “Lose the pants, though.” That startled a laugh out of him.

“Right.” Colin kissed her before standing up. His hands unbuttoned and dragged the zipper of his pants down, the lack of pressure both relief and torture. Meanwhile, Penelope made herself comfortable by the head of the bed. He hesitated with his hands about to push down both his underwear and pants, he really couldn’t stand keeping any of them on, but he looked at her.

Her eyes were trained on his crotch, zeroing on the dark stain at the top of his boxers. She seemed to be in a trance as she twisted her body towards him while reaching a hand out as if to touch him.

She sure knew how to boost his confidence even if unknowingly.

Colin took a small step back and down went his clothing, leaving him completely naked. His cock stood proud and flat against his lower abdomen, the head an angry red and thick shaft slightly curved to the left. He saw as Penelope let her head fall back into the pillows as she let out a groan.

“It’s kind of infuriating that your cock’s as pretty as you.” She sounded truly put upon and he couldn’t help sitting down with a little more force than necessary so she would bounce.

“You think I’m pretty?” A shit eating grin took residence on his face.

She lifted her head and looked at him with a mock unimpressed expression. “You’re literally the prettiest man I’ve ever seen, Colin.” Even while teasing, her compliment still made him shudder. He moved towards her, his hands parting her legs so he could settle between them once more.

“And you’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever known.” Penelope’s arms looped around his neck while her hands went into his hair as soon as he was back in their earlier position, her smile full. “Nobody could compare to you, gorgeous.”

Her fingers tensing in his hair and her pupils dilating were the only warnings he got before she was surging up and trying to devour him whole. It was outstanding how fast the switch between lust and laughter turned. One second, they were poking fun at each other and the next they were trying to make the other moan. Colin wouldn’t have it any other way, though.

As they took turns robbing each other of air, his right hand made its descent down her body until he reached her heated center again.

“Ah!” Penelope moved her head to the side. Colin continued to kiss along her cheek, two fingers moving inside her in tandem with her breathing.

“I wish I could tell you I have more in me right now, but I feel like I’ll die if I don’t get inside you soon.” His thumb started rubbing her clit while his fingers curled, searching.

“I-I!” Penelope bit her lip, aborting her noises.

“Don’t do that.” Colin used his other hand to tug on her chin so she would let go. Her whines music to his ears. “There’s nobody here but us, let me hear you.”

“You-I-AH!” He did want to know what she wanted to say but the bite she decided to give his shoulder as he continued working her was not going to make him stop. In fact, it made him want to drive her wilder, take her higher. Hopefully she bit hard enough for him to find the marks of her teeth later. Maybe she would want a matching one too. The mere idea had him spiraling, fingers faster while he sucked hard just behind her ear.

“Getinmegetinmegetinmegetinmegetinme.” It sounded like gibberish and most wouldn’t understand, but he was so attuned to her it made perfect sense; her legs wrapping around his hips were also a great context clue. Colin slowed down his hand and retrieved his fingers, sad as he was to do it. He started moving to the side when Penelope’s nails pressed against the skin of his shoulders and her legs clamped around him.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Her angry voice just turned him on more.

“I need to get a condom, dear.” He kissed her cheek and made to move again but she tightened her hold on him.

“We don’t need one… if you don’t mind.” Colin could feel his eyes trying to jump from their sockets, Penelope continued nervously. “I mean, I’m on the pill, it helps me regulate my period, and I’m obviously clean. I can always buy a plan B tomorrow, too.” At his lack of response, he felt her tense up and gulp. “Never mind, go get it, it wa-” He cut her off with a kiss.

Colin angled his hips so his cock was nestled in Penelope’s cunt, grounding against her in a way that had them both gasping into each other’s mouths, the wet sounds coming from in between them spurring him on. One of his hands tangled in her hair and angled her head, her neck bared as he sucked on her pulse point, and the other went to his cock. He nudged his cockhead against her clit, catching against it and slipping away again and again; teasing touches that wound them up further.

“Do you even know what you do to me?” Penelope’s hands anchored on his back. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me not to try and fuck your brains out.” Her right found purchase at the top of his spine while the left took hold of one arse cheek. “Coming inside you with nothing in between us has only ever been second to you loving me back in my fantasies.” Colin decided to stop torturing them both and directed his cock to her entrance.

“I would have never, ha, suggested it myself, because, ngh, you’re so warm, that’s something, fuck, I thought, should come fr-from you.” He was halfway in and the vice grip she had on him already had him on the brink of ecstasy. The hand on his arse was now pushing against his tailbone trying to get him to keep going. Colin inhaled shakily and gave her another inch. “And then you come and, and, you s-sa-say you want me bare.” Her hand was insistent, as were her stuttered cries. “But if that’s what you wish then by go-d that’s what you’re getting.” The last word left him like a gut punch.

He had bottomed out, the slide smooth.

They stayed like that for a few moments. Colin trying to catch his breath by holding onto Penelope’s hip, his hand fisting in her hair, his nose below her ear, her rapid pulse a lovely metronome. He felt her nails, delicious points of pain, against his skin and the thought of being covered in her marks just like she would be in his made him snap his hips.

She screamed and he was about to pull out and away when both her hands went to his lower back, preventing him from leaving. “Move, for the love of everything that’s holy, move, Colin!” He didn’t need to be told twice, a bit of a frantic pace building.

“There’s nothing, nothing, I’ve wanted more than you.” The hold he had on her hip was bruising just like hers on his. “You were made for me. Made for me to own, to fuck, to care for.” Twin marks of ownership that had molten lava melting his insides, possessiveness settling snugly in his rib cage. “I’ll keep you full always, you’ll never know emptiness again.” His thrusts slowed down a little and he reached to the side of her head for a pillow to put under her, the angle deeper. “I’ll stuff you so often you won’t remember what it was like not having me in you, buy you a plug so I’m always inside you.”

“Colin, Colin, please! Please!” Her voice sounded wrecked; her eyes shut, crystal tears getting lost in the curls by her temples.

“I can’t, fuck, fuck, I can’t wait to see you like that.” Colin grounded and circled his hips with every thrust, Penelope trashed her head around. “Your pretty cunt a mess because of my cock.” His hand once again went to her hair, keeping her head in place. “My darling, little, Pen, always full with my cum.” His back was going to be a mess, her nails were leaving fire trails all around. He needed to buy a full body mirror so he could see. “Open your eyes, sweetling, look at me.” She didn’t so he pulled on her red locks, his voice hard. “Open them.”

It took her a second but when she did, he felt his hips move faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin lewd in the silence of his room. The black of Penelope’s pupils nearly overtook the blue, her expression totally overwhelmed. Her lips, plump and red, with spit at the corners shone like a beacon to him. Tear tracks adorned her cheeks and he had to lean down an lick them. The salty taste making him moan, his thrusts faltering as her walls started clenching around him.

“Co-Colin, Colin! Colin, I nee-ed, I need!” Her broken pleas were too much. The hand he had on her hip moved to her clit and he rubbed with abandon. His thrusts were uncoordinated but synchronicity was the furthest thing from his mind. He left his spot by her neck and drew back to see her face.

“Yes, yes, come one, let go, sweetheart, let me feel you come around my cock.” Penelope’s mouth was open on a silent scream as that familiar warm stream soaked the sheets further, splashing against his lower body, her tongue flattened inside her mouth and her eyes rolled back. She was pulsing so much Colin almost slipped out but he stubbornly thrusted forward, rolled his hips, let the waves of her orgasm drag his out. “Pen, Pen, Penelope!” He emptied himself inside her and felt as if he was coming for a little eternity, her cunt milking him dry. Spots appeared at the corners of his vision and he grunted and gasped throughout, the sensations too big to constrain to one sound.

As Colin felt the last of his release leave him, warm and inside her, deep for safekeeping, all strength seemed to leave him. He was moving to flip them to a dry spot, inevitably pulling out, when her legs wrapped around him, trapping him in and rolling with him. His softening cock was still encased in her warm core and half her body was on top of his, her head nestled against his shoulder while his left arm went around her and his right hand rested on her hipbone. While they got their breathings under control, Penelope started playing with his chest hair and he felt a satisfied hum rumble through him. A couple of minutes went by in satiated silence before he tried to pull out again, more for her comfort than anything else.

“Don’t leave, not yet.” It was said a little breathlessly, against his shoulder, and his cock gave a valiant twitch that had Penelope gasping in pleasure. She really would be the death of him. “You’re a talker.”

“It would appear so.” His voice was soft, his hand petting her side.

““To own”, though?” The tips of her nails dug into his chest, near his nipple, and Colin felt himself blush in embarrassment even as arousal rushed through him.

“I… I…” This was why he tried to keep his possessive streak under wraps.

“I liked it.” Penelope nuzzled his skin and the ease such a simple action evoked in him would never not leave him floored. The sting of her nails, more pronounced this time and right over his heart, made him gasp in surprise. “Because you’re mine as well. Mine to consume, to enjoy, to love.”

“Yes.” An immediate, breathless assent because he had always been hers to do as she pleased. She hummed in response.

“I also really like the pet names.” Satisfaction oozed from Penelope, her hold on him proprietary. This was bliss.

“Duly noted, baby.” She seemed to melt further into him and he wrapped his arms around her more firmly.

“Gosh, I love you so much.” She sounded so happy, a perfect mirror of how he was feeling. “I’m tired.” A yawn.

“I love you.” He was sure saying it would never get old. “Go to sleep, princess.” Colin nuzzled the top of her head, her contented moan at the term of endearment earning her a kiss on the forehead this time. “I need to get up in a bit to take care of our guest.”

While Cressida’s body wouldn’t start smelling for a good few hours, he needed to carefully wrap her up in the plastic, break a few bones to make her more compact, and make sure no traces of him or his apartment were left on her in case she ever was found. He was confident in his preparations and plan but being careful was never bad.

“I want to help.” Colin opened his mouth to protest but Penelope spoke before he could. “I’m not going with you to wherever you’re taking her. Not because I don’t want to go, I do, but because I know I’m more of a risk than an asset given that I don’t know how you do things.” She propped herself on an elbow so she could look at him. Her wild, red hair was standing up at odd angles and the post sex-glow really made her shine. “However, I can help you here, even if it’s just passing you a pair of scissors or cleaning the kitchen afterwards. Let me help you.” He could feel himself wavering. “Please, I will follow your orders without question or hesitation.” Of course she had to say “please”, she knew how weak he was to it. He sighed.

“You won’t get involved with the body. No buts. It’s too risky.” She nodded. “You can help me with the clean-up after I’ve gotten her ready for transport.”

“Can I watch?” There was only open curiosity in her gaze, he sighed again.

“Yes, Pen, you can watch but I need you to stay a couple of feet away from the plastic. It would be better if you do so from the living room.” He had expected to find defiance in her eyes but all he found was understanding.

“Okay.” Colin would never not marvel at how fascinating she was. Her total trust in, him, that he knew what he was doing made his cock jerk. Penelope felt it and smirked. “I wish we had time for a nap and one more round.” She wiggled her hips and he gasped in oversensitivity. He tapped her hip and she stilled.

“Believe me, I would much rather that than what I’ll be doing.” Her laugh was beautiful.

“I have a question.” He had been able to see it form, her face an open book for him.

“Shoot.” He would answer anything she wanted.

“Was it you who broke Fife’s nose back in school?” Penelope tilted her head as if she was just missing the final piece to a puzzle.

“Yeah.” Colin shrugged. “I heard him talking about you. He was lucky I only punched him.” His tone was dark.

“You’ve truly been my hero ever since we met.” Her kiss was honeyed, the gentle boiling in his belly threatening to become an inferno.

“I’ve just always thought you deserved the best. It didn’t matter what age we were. I’ve always wanted that for you.” Colin felt her nibbling at his jaw. “I also wanted to be the one to give it all to you but that’s besides the point.” Penelope let out a delighted giggle and bent her elbow so she could prop her head in her hand to look at him.

“Can I ask you a question?” He repeated back at her, she smiled.

“Shoot.” She scrunched her nose, teasing him.

“Why are you here?” He hurried to explain as he saw an eyebrow raise. “I mean, you were supposed to be in Scotland by now, how come you’re here?”

“There was something wrong with the plane’s engine.” Penelope sighed and rested her head against his shoulder once again. “By the time they decided we wouldn’t actually be taking off five hours were gone. Danbury told us to go back home and that the comp would be moved to a later date.” She started drawing figures on his chest while she shrugged one shoulder. “Your flat’s closer to the airport than mine. Figured we could watch a movie and I could rant about the whole ordeal.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” Colin questioned.

“Battery died, remember?” Penelope poked him on the side. “Rae’s charger is also incompatible with my phone so I couldn’t use hers either.”

He hummed before answering. “I’m glad you’re here.” He hugged her closer with the arm he had around her.

“Me too.” Her voice had gone soft, on the verge of sleep. “Can we rest for a while?”

“You think you’ll be up for it in around forty-five minutes?” His hand caressed her side up and down.

“Yup, it will be basically a power nap. You know how much those work wonders for me.” Colin did, he had lost count of the number of times she had curled up on his couch, slept for however long, or short, she had available only to wake up reenergized. “Wake me up?”

“As you want, wife.” Colin’s answer had been delayed a second, his internal debate over whether to call her how he wanted to inciting a quick meltdown. Penelope shot back up to look into his eyes and then, her smile was blinding, blue eyes sparkling.

“You sure know how to keep a girl on her toes.” She kissed him and then left pecks along his cheek before making her way to the shell of his ear and tugging it between her teeth. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting a ring so you can hear your side of the deal.” His stomach erupted in butterflies as she settled back down on his side, her smile ingrained in his mind.

“I love you, Colin.” Her voice was raspy, a shiver running down his spine while he smiled into her hair. He was more than content to just hold her for a while before waking her with wandering kisses. Her hand settled on his chest, above his heart. “I truly, completely do.”

While they both moved a bit to get more comfortable, the all-consuming sense of rightness that washed over him had him fighting back tears of joy. And as she cuddled more into him, their hands intertwined between them, he thought about how gloriously bright the future ahead was.

“I love you, Pen.” He was finally where he belonged, where he had always wanted to be: beside the woman of his dreams with no secrets between them and acceptance, friendship, and love binding them together. “I love you with my whole heart.”