Chapter Text
April 16
Fuck.
He was righteously fucked.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be awkward and bad and something that they would laugh about years down the line, drunkenly playing ‘never have I ever’, sheepishly tossing back whatever was left in their cups when someone inevitably asks the question, “Drink if you’ve had sex with a person in this room.”
It was supposed to be one of the many footnotes in Colin Bridgerton’s life story.
It was supposed to be a favor for a friend.
But as he lies in his bed, eyes trained on Penelope’s sleeping form, counting the constellation of freckles that dance across her naked back he starts to consider that maybe he didn’t quite think this all the way through. Maybe he hasn’t thought anything through when it comes to Penelope.
Adjusting to lie on his back, he blinks up at the dark ceiling. Has this feeling always been lying dormant? Or was this what they meant when his friends joked about post-nut clarity?
Muttering incoherently, Penelope shifted her head onto his chest, burrowing herself into his side. Colin smiles, her sleep-fueled speech bringing to focus the first conversation that the two of them had. Well, maybe calling it a conversation is a bit generous.
Colin remembered that day with almost perfect clarity: it was the day his older brothers finally allowed him to hang out with them.
His brothers, Anthony and Benedict, would never let him join their older brother dynamic: citing that he was too young, too slow, or that whenever they both were out of the house someone needed to be the man of the house to protect the women, nevermind the fact that their younger sister Daphne had a mean right hook.
He was thirteen, dammit, he was practically an adult.
With enough pestering, begging, and even a threat to ‘tell Mom’, Colin convinced his brothers to let him tag along on their bike ride at the park. Ecstatically Colin followed his brothers, peddling as fast as he could to lead the pack eager to show his brothers that he could keep up.
The wind whipped furiously around him as he passed up his oldest brother, who called for Colin to slow down as they made their first wide turn around the perimeter of the park.
Caught up in the ecstasy, the thrill of finally being accepted as one of the teenagers of the family, Colin turned to look back at his brothers, sticking his tongue out in elation because even if this wasn’t a race, he most definitely had won.
In a matter of seconds that elation quickly turned as he was struck in the face with something and thrown off his bike arm stretched out forward to shield his face.
Pushing himself up from the dirt to a sitting position, Colin tried to gather his bearings. Crumpled beside him was a yellow frilly thing — a hat — matted with dirt and grass. He made a move to grab the offensive item that attacked his face when he felt a searing pain in his forearm.
Sucking in a deep breath, Colin willed himself to keep his cool. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Before he even had a chance to muffle out a sob, he heard soft whimpering. Turning his head towards the sound, Colin made eye contact with a wide-eyed little redhead girl wearing an unfashionably bright yellow dress.
Ah, the owner of the hat, Colin thought.
She was mumbling what sounded like an apology if one could call it that because Colin wasn’t quite sure what he heard between her tears.
With his pain momentarily distracted by the weeping, Colin’s mind sought to find a way to get her to calm down. Putting on his best smile, all toothy and full of mirth, Colin began to laugh.
“Well, that wasn't very well done of me, was it?” Colin asked, the girl’s tear-stained cheeks blossoming into a small smile, tears slowing with a hiccupy giggle. He reached over smiling as he handed the girl her hat trying to shake off the dirt as best as he could before she took it back.
Hearing the distant shouts of alarm from his brothers, Colin distractedly turned his head away from the girl before dusting himself off and attempting to pick himself off the ground. Quickly his brothers surrounded him, faces full of concern as Benedict precariously poked at his purpling arm and Anthony moved to pick up his bike.
As his brothers whisked him away, Anthony already spiraling into a rant about the importance of paying attention and chastising him for being so reckless, Colin turned to look back at the redhead girl who was nowhere in sight.
How could someone so brightly dressed disappear so easily? Baffled, he let his brothers continue to fuss over him as they walked their bikes home.
One A& E trip later, Colin was home, his left arm wrapped in a yellow cast with a radius fracture — much to his Mother’s dismay.
He didn't mind the cast much, especially since Benedict said it would be the perfect way to get attention from girls. Colin's not sure he wants any girl's attention but he said it like it is a good thing so he chooses to believe him.
As he entered to drawing room, he grabbed a biscuit off of his younger sister, Eloise’s plate.
“Hey! Those are supposed to be for me and my friend, it’s our first sleepover and I want everything to be perfect,” Eloise whined, attempting to reach for the treat from Colin’s good hand as he sat.
“Is this friend in the room with us right now?” Colin asked, dramatically looking around the room, for anyone he might not be related to. “Eloise, I’m sure your imaginary ghost friend could spare one biscuit for your injured older brother.”
“I’ll show you injured,” Eloise muttered, unsuccessfully attempting to nab the treat from Colin’s clutches before he could pop it in his mouth, crumbs littering his shirt.
“Ghosts? What ghosts?” Francesca asked wide-eyed with a tremor in her voice, halting her play at the keys on the piano to look at Colin.
“Colin! Eloise!” Violet scolded, giving a pointed look at the offending parties while applying a comforting squeeze to Fran’s shoulder. Unlike Eloise, Colin had the decency to look bashful about it.
As the doorbell rang, Benedict reentered the room and shot Colin a smirk as he waved a Sharpie in his direction, dropping it into Colin’s hand as Benedict threw himself onto the couch with his sketch pad next to Colin.
Moving towards the door, Violet gave a quick look back to the family gathered around the sitting room, “Children, we are to be on our best behavior while our guest is here, yes?”
Nodding along with his siblings, Colin watched as Elosie jumped up to greet her friend.
Standing at the door with a pink butterfly backpack and a terrified look on her face, Eloise’s friend greeted his mother. Violet looked out for the girl's parents, her mouth forming into a slight frown as she waved at a car that honked once as it pulled away.
Colin — busy familiarizing himself with Eloise’s treats for her friend — found himself rather preoccupied when Eloise introduced her friend to the room.
“Everyone, this is my best friend in the whole wide world, Penelope. Penelope, this is everyone. Don’t worry about learning their names, there are a lot of us,” Eloise said excitedly, rocking back and forth eagerly on her toes. “Oh! I’ll take your backpack up to my room and then we can play that tea party we talked about at school.” Grabbing Penelope’s backpack, Elosie ran out of the room leaving her friend to fend for herself among the Bridgerton clan.
“Hi,” Penelope whispered. The family politely replied even though the poor girl had sounded like she might have been trying to not be heard. Looking up from his feast (eight biscuits), his jaw dropped. That was her! That was the girl whose hat hit him in the face at the park.
The girl looked around the room, turning to the sofa met Colin’s eyes as he watched her come to the same revelation, eyes focused on the yellow cast on his arm, a shadow casting across her delicate features.
Colin, not wanting to see her blame herself, quickly got to work playing up the charming third child role.
“Hi, I’m Colin, wanna sign my cast?” Colin invited, smiling as he stretched his good arm with the pen out towards Penelope. She blushed nodding, taking the pen from his hands. Colin watched as she deliberately wrote her name out in crooked, block letters slowly like she was trying not to hurt him. When she finished, capping the pen and handing it back to him, he looked at her handy work on his cast to see "Penelope :)" written out.
Colin grins stupidly at the memory. Of the time when Penelope was just Eloise’s friend and not his Pen. His best friend, the first person he has ever had sex with that’s left him feeling warm and loved.
He froze, the thought startling him. Love? Love? With Penelope Featherington?
Fuck.
Maybe he shouldn’t have offered to platonically — with no strings attached — take his best friend’s virginity.
Fuck fuck fuck.