Archive of Our Own ^beta

Summer 2009

“This is Penelope. She moved into the house across the way. She’s allergic to nuts, but she has her EpiPen.”

Penelope stands quietly as Eloise introduces her to the rest of the Bridgertons. She clutches her EpiPen pouch, nervously running her thumbs up and down the strap.

“It’s nice to meet you, Penelope. My name is Edmund, I’m Eloise’s Dad.” he points behind him to the pregnant woman holding Eloise’s baby brother on a blanket “That’s Violet, Eloise’s Mummy, and baby Greg and little Francesca.”

Edmund reaches out and shakes the little girl’s hand. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks, Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“Penelope and I are best friends now. We’re going to play out back.” Eloise takes her hand, pulling her towards the back yard.

“Does her Mum know?” Violet calls out.

“Yes!” They reply in unison.

In the backyard, there are somehow even more of them. Two older boys sit on top of the playset’s climbing frame, looking at something on one of their phones. A girl who looks to be not much older than Penelope carefully weaves a flower crown together in the nearby garden.

“That’s Anthony and Ben. Daphne’s over there. Come, let’s swing!”

Suddenly, they’re on the swings below Anthony and Ben, who grumble a “hello” to her. The girls giggle wildly as they see who can go higher, wind blowing in their hair as the sun kisses their faces. She kicks her legs, pushing herself up and up and up until she kicks so hard that her yellow sandal flies off.

“Ow!”

Penelope gasps, looking down to find yet another Bridgerton on the ground, rubbing his head where her shoe must have hit.

How many of them are there?

Guilt jolts her to a stop and she rushes over to him after hopping off the swing.

“Are you okay?” 

Gosh, that looks like it hurts. One of her first playdates in a while and she’s gone and mucked it all up. Her mother was going to be furious. She was so adamant on making a good impression on the family across the way...

“I’m so sorry.” She says, voice quivering as she thinks about her mother’s impending tantrum when she finds out about this. 

Her imagination halts when he laughs.

“God, I fell right on my bum! That wasn’t very well done of me, was it?”

Unsure of what to do, she chuckles slightly.

“I- that must have hurt.” 

The lump on his head indicates so, at least.

“I’ll be fine. This is not the worst hit I’ve taken to my head.” He shrugs, laughing again.

She likes his laugh. And his eyes. And his smile.

“I’m Colin. I assume you’re Eloise’s friend?”

Penelope blushes, glad to see Eloise walking over.

“Don’t feel bad, Penelope. He’s thick-headed enough to manage just fine.” She says.

Colin scrambles to his feet and lunges for Eloise, who deftly dodges him and takes off in a run. Penelope laughs as he chases after her, thinking how nice it must be to have such a big family. It’s like automatic friends. Of course, she has her sisters, but they don’t play with her like this.

Eventually, Eloise flops down beside her, Colin conceding the chase and joining them in the grass.

“What’s that?” He asks, motioning towards her bag.

Her hand flies to her EpiPen pouch, moving it from her side to her front.

“It’s my EpiPen.”

“Penelope’s allergic to nuts. Like, really badly.” Eloise says.

“Oh.” Colin says. “How badly?”

Penelope shrugs.

“I can’t eat or touch them or anything. If I do, my whole throat closes and my skin gets all red.”

“Wow. So you always carry that around?”

She nods, blushing again with slight embarrassment. It’s a major part of her life, and not something she feels particularly badly about in and of itself, but she hates being so… different. Sitting at a different table at school lunch, bringing her own food to birthday parties, having to leave the room when her Mum decides to serve peanut butter sandwiches, not being able to eat most Halloween candy… It's all very ostracizing. Making friends at her old school was hard, being kept so separately. Everyone thought she was some sort of freak.

She’s glad they moved across from Eloise. Penelope’s never been able to make a friend like this before.

Just when she thinks Colin might start to judge her, or worse, pity her, he smiles again.

“Pen’s EpiPen. Kinda rhymes.”

“That’s not a rhyme, Colin.” Eloise chides.

He shoves his sister.

“Whatever. It’s kind of cool. Like your medicine was named after you.” 

Oh.

She blushes again.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“So, if you eat a nut, you have to, like, stab yourself with it?”

She nods, opening the pouch.

“Yeah, you just pull the cap and press it to your thigh until it clicks.”

He examines the EpiPen curiously.

“Cool.”

Cool? Cool!

When he passes it back, their hands brush and her whole body feels warm. No one’s ever thought her allergy, or the mechanics of it, were cool. 

She likes this boy. Colin.

The fuzzy feeling in her chest turns cold in an instant when Violet’s scream cuts through the air from the fromt yard.

Everything stops for a moment.

Colin and Eloise turn to Anthony and Ben in confusion, Anthony looking towards the front of the house curiously.

Violet wails again.

“Help!”

Penelope’s never seen anyone hop down from a climbing frame as quickly as Anthony does. Everyone bolts to the front of the house, Penelope trailing behind with her shorter legs.

“What? What is it?” Anthony calls out.

“I don’t know, he just collapsed!” 

Anthony must be the oldest.

Edmund is lying on the ground, hands grasping at his throat while his face turns red. He chokes for breath, head in his screaming wife’s lap. By the time she reaches the chaos, Ben’s already on the phone with 999.

“I- I don’t know. He’s perfectly healthy.” He stammers, sniffling a bit.

“Is it a heart attack?”

“Edmund, please, darling.”

“Colin! Take the kids away.” Anthony orders, kneeling next to his mother.

Colin jumps, face pale. He quickly lifts Greg off the ground and takes Francesca’s hand.

“Pen, Eloise, let’s go back-”

Penelope ignores him, walking over to Edmund. She knows what’s happening because it’s happened to her. His throat is closing, his skin is bright red, his hands and feet are swelling, and his face is nearly purple now.

“Penelope, go to the back.” Anthony orders.

She wordlessly looks down at the EpiPen, still in her hand from showing it Crouching next to Edmund, she pulls the blue tip off of it and jams the needle into his leg. Silently, she counts backwards from ten.

Ten.

“Bloody hell!”

Nine.

“What is she doing?”

Eight.

”Oh, Edmund…”

Seven.

“Benedict, where are the fucking paramedics?!”

Six. 

“Daddy!”

Five.

“Can someone please get the kids out of here?!”

Four.

“Edmund?! Edmund?!”

Three.

“Is it.. working?”

Two.

“Oh my God. I think it’s working…”

One.

“Violet…”

She pulls the EpiPen out of his leg.

Spring 2012

The Bridgertons have EpiPens in every room now.

They also call her Pen almost exclusively. She doesn’t know if it’s short for Penelope or EpiPen. She doesn’t really mind either way.

The paramedics were held up by a Royal Motorcade and didn’t arrive for another five minutes after Penelope administered her EpiPen. They said Edmund would have died if she hadn’t stepped in. For the first time in her life, she felt proud of herself. Like she was worth something, maybe even valuable. 

The Bridgertons treated her like she mattered.

She only grows closer with Eloise, who had apparently also had trouble making friends at school. Penelope invites her to sit at the allergy table, but tells her that she can’t have any nuts in her lunch if she does.

Eloise gives up all peanuts from that point forward. Penelope repeatedly tells her she doesn’t need to. Her own family hasn’t, after all. 

“If nuts do to you what that bee did to my Dad, I want nothing more to do with them.”

And she persists, even when Cressida Cowper calls her a freak, and when Bertram Fife puts pictures of peanuts in their cubbies. Eloise either laughs it off or bites back with a scathing remark of her own. She makes being the new kid easier, and so do Daphne and Francesca, who also attend their same primary school. Daphne is two grades above them, and Francesca is one below. Most of her days after school are spent at the Bridgerton house. They make her feel more welcome than her family, who doesn’t seem to really notice her absence, so why not?

At the end of the term, just before summer, the girls all find themselves at Kitty Langham’s birthday party. Kitty was nice enough to Penelope, but they weren’t very close. Come to find out, her mother invited practically the whole school and all their parents to attend. Anthony makes some snide comments about social climbing that she doesn’t really understand.

Eloise and Penelope play with some of their schoolmates, running around the gardens all afternoon. They’re starved when it’s time to sing to the birthday girl. Penelope’s mum places her special cupcake in front of her while the cake is passed around to the other guests. In the back of her mind, she notices Cressida whispering to some of her friends, or minions, as Eloise calls them.

“There is just no way that’s true.” 

“I bet nothing would even happen.”

“Kitty, come here a minute.” Cressida calls.

Penelope shifts uncomfortably, a bad feeling in her stomach.

“Wonder what they’re up to.” She says.

“Probably something as stupid as they are.” Eloise says. The girl across from them, Edwina Sharma, snorts.

Edwina was always quiet, sticking to herself for most of the year. Penelope heard that her father died last summer. She’d be quiet, too, if she lost a parent. 

“Maybe they’ve found a way to use the empty space in their skulls for storage.” Eloise says.

The girls giggle.

“It’d be a pity if all that space was wasted.” Edwina says, earning more laughter from the girls.

They giggle, moving on to talk about other things. Eloise has finished her cake and saunters off to the toilet just before Cressida reappears.

“Hey, Penelope, can I ask you something?”

Penelope cringes.

“I just have a question.” 

Penelope turns to look at Cressida over her shoulder, ready to grit her teeth through whatever Cressida had planned.

“What?” 

A sticky, thick glob of something lands on her cheek. She’s too shocked to even realize what it is. Cressida stares at her cockiky, as if she’s just won some sort of game.

“See? Told you so.”

The smell hits her.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Penelope reaches for her EpiPen pouch before she remembers that she took it off and handed it to her mother before running off with Eloise.

Terror hits her like a cold bucket of water.

I am going to die.

Cressida’s still boasting when Penelope opens her mouth to cry for her mother. Her skin is itching badly, but her throat is narrowing so quickly that she doesn’t even attempt to scratch. 

“Penelope?” Edwina looks at her, concerned.

EpiPen. EpiPen. EpiPen.

“Mum.” Is all she can wheeze out. Edwina stands and bolts off to find Portia.

Penelope slides out of her spot at the table, sitting on the ground to lean her head between her legs. This reaction is slower than if she ingested it, but can quickly turn deadly nonetheless. Not to mention the rash that’s sure to remain on her face after the fact.

“Oh, come off it, Penelope. No need to act any more.” Cressida taunts, standing above her.

Penelope lifts her head to glare, wheezing, face bright red, violent hives covering her skin. Cressida pales.

“Oh my God! What did you do!” Eloise comes running over, napkin in hand to wipe the peanut butter off of her. “Where’s your pouch?”

“Mm-mmm” 

“Mum?”

Penelope nods, eyes filling with tears. Edwina runs to fetch Portia, ushering her over frantically.

“Oh, now I’m sure she’s just fine. It really is just a precaution, you know. Nothing to actually worry about.”

Penelope can tell that her mother is walking leisurely, attempting to play off the situation like it’s nothing. She would cringe if she could breathe. Her mother would be furious at her for putting on a display like this. It would be humiliating for her.

Her throat closes.

Penelope grabs Eloise’s arm in panic, falling back onto the grass. She’ll be unconscious in moments. 

“Mum!” Eloise shouts.

Penelope’s vision swims in front of her, mouth gaping in a silent scream while she searches for air. 

Is this how I die?

Her vision fades. She feels a sharp pain in her leg.

Then it returns.

Summer 2015

Violet and Edmund stop eating peanuts after Kitty Langam’s tenth birthday party. Penelope regained consciousness to them leaning over her, Violet holding the EpiPen to her thigh. Portia was yelling at them, since Violet had apparently ripped the pouch out of her hands and ran over to take matters into her own hands when she saw Penelope on the ground.

Portia tried desperately to save face. Not only did her daughter draw unwanted attention, but she came across as negligent. 

Her mother was furious.

Penelope was banned from seeing the Bridgertons at all that summer. Maybe they made her feel too special, too cared for. They made her feel better than her mother was capable of.

It was threatening. It was embarrassing.

It was torture.

Penelope wasn’t allowed to have a phone, so she had no way to contact Eloise.

After spending June reading and staring at the wall, something collided with her bedroom window on one night in July. Confused, she walked over just as another rock hit the glass.

Pushing the window open, she looked down to see Benedict, Colin and Eloise in the gardens.

Boy, were they a sight for sore eyes.

She smiled down at them, finger over her lips to keep them quiet. Eloise motioned for her to come down, but Penelope shook her head. She can’t, her parents were too light of sleepers and her mother was desperate for another reason to be punish her. 

Benedict waved something in the air until she nods that she sees it. He set it under a bush for her to find the next day.

They left, Eloise blowing her a kiss as she walked away with Benedict. Colin just smiled up at her. Even from there, she could see his sparkly eyes and handsome dimple. 

In the morning, she went outside with a bag and retrieved her package, rushing it back up to her room to open it in secret.

It was an iPad that they just had “laying around.”

Damn Bridgertons. 

They’d put cellular data on it so she could contact them through WhatsApp. She smiled so big that she actually cried.

She messaged Eloise.

Penelope: this is awsome!!!!!

Eloise: now i wont be so bord with out u. 

They communicated via iPad the entire rest of the summer, Penelope taking advantage of the headphones they included with it to even listen to music sometimes. It helps the summer go by easier, just like everything did with the Bridgertons.

Things go back to normal when school starts up again, Portia resigning to the fact that she can’t keep Penelope and Eloise apart. Penelope also thinks that Portia enjoys not having her around so much.

Penelope doesn’t have another allergic reaction that year. In fact, her EpiPens go unused for almost three years.

Her and Eloise are thirteen when Anthony and Benedict need to go Christmas shopping and end up stuck carting Penelope and Eloise along. The group splits up to shop, meeting in the food court later for a snack. Penelope and Eloise opt for chicken from a place that doesn’t use peanut oil, and they join the boys back at the table.

Anthony gets up to refill his drink and Benedict makes Penelope laugh mid-chew, making her swallow a chunk of food down the wrong pipe. She starts hacking, reaching for her drink while she gasps for air.

“Woah, Pen, you okay?” Eloise asks, starting to get concerned at the redness in her face.

Penelope nods, reaching for her drink.

“What are you doing?!”

There’s a commotion next to her that she ignores in favor of sipping her drink until she feels a sharp pain in her thigh.

“Ow!” She coughs.

Anthony’s standing next to her, eyes wide in panic, holding her EpiPen to her leg.

“Are you okay? What did you eat? Can you breathe?”

Everyone stares at him, mouths agape. Anthony pulls the EpiPen out of her leg.

“What were you doing? She could have died!” He shouts to Benedict. People start to stare. Eloise laughs.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Anthony, I wasn’t having a reaction. I swallowed a piece of chicken wrong.” Penelope says.

“Oh.”

He stares down at the used EpiPen in his shaking hand.

“I… I’m so sorry. I thought…” 

Benedict snorts. Penelope glares at him before turning back to Anthony.

“It’s okay, really. Better safe than sorry, right?”

She wants him to feel better, sure, but she’s being genuine. It’s better to waste an EpiPen than to not use it when needed. The fact that he felt comfortable stepping in makes her feel safe, happy, loved. It’s nice to know that the people around her are willing to help.

It also makes sense, considering he watched his Father nearly die from anaphylaxis. Hell, it’d be weird if he wasn’t overly cautious.

Clearing her throat, she turns to the rest of their little group.

“Now, if we’re finished here, I would ask for you all to accompany me to the nearest A&E, please.”

Benedict and Eloise crack up. Even Anthony smiles bashfully.

They stay with her during her entire trip to A&E. Anthony is wildly embarrassed by the whole thing, but eventually joins in on the laughter.

He does give up peanuts after that, just in case.

Spring 2016

Her first kiss happens at Daphne’s graduation party. Or, the after party, anyway.

There is a normal graduation party at Bridgerton House that is perfectly orderly, including extended family and friends. Penelope and Eloise spend the day lounging in the grass with Colin and Benedict, which would be perfectly fun, were Penelope’s cousin not all over Colin.

Penelope was always close with Marina, being only a couple of years apart, and all. They were a dynamic duo at the rare Featherington family gatherings.

This summer, though, something is… different.

She’s prettier and meaner, opting to laugh with her sisters instead of accompany her in the corner. Marina is visiting for the summer as she prepares to start uni at Queen Mary in the fall. Her parents were hoping that she would be able to get the lay of the land by spending time in London before classes begin. 

The only thing she’s been getting “the lay” of is Colin, and it’s making Penelope crazy. It’s not like she’s jealous or anything; Colin Bridgerton is a pipe dream for her, after all. She never actually thought she had a chance with him.

The constant making out and cuddling and ogling and gushing would gross her out no natter who was doing it.

Eloise is just as annoyed as Penelope, which proves that her irritation is not just because she’s jealous. She definitely isn’t, by the way.

Penelope and jealousy have never met before.

She wouldn’t even know it if she felt it.

Either way, Marina tagged along to the party with Penelope, and has been practically on Colin’s lap the entire time. It’s a good thing Benedict is being entertaining, otherwise her and Eloise would have begged off hours ago.

“We’re going to my place after for a real party.” He says to the girls when the sun goes down and the neighbors have mostly tittered out. “You two should join.”

“Ben, don’t you think they’re too young?” Colin protests. Penelope hates that.

“Eloise is seventeen, Pen’s almost there. I’d say they’re old enough. Lord knows I was getting into worse trouble when I was their age.”

“I know, but-”

“Plus, we’ll all be there. It’s perfectly safe. What do you think?”

Penelope looks at Eloise. Neither of them have been to an actual party. Eloise has been invited on the grounds of being a Bridgerton, but has always refused to go unless Penelope is also invited, which has never happened. 

“Sounds fun.” Penelope tries. She desperately wants Eloise to agree, but it’s rare for her to do something when it wasn’t her idea.

To Penelope’s surprise, Eloise agrees.

“Sure. Why not?”

Colin tsks.

“Anthony’s gonna kill you, Ben.” He warns. Benedict waves him off.

An hour later, Eloise, Daphne and Penelope are loaded into Benedict’s car, Colin and Marina in Anthony’s with his girlfriend. Penelope is thrumming with excitement, thrilled to have been included. Apparently, it’s a Bridgerton right of passage to have a graduation after-party. Anthony tagged along to a uni party with some older cousins after his, starting the debaucherous tradition. He learned the hard way that it’s better to get drunk for the first time around family rather than strangers.

They walk into Benedict’s flat, somehow already full of people, and Anthony grabs his arm.

“Really? You brought Eloise and Penelope?” 

Benedict rolls his eyes.

“Yes. I think they’re old enough.” 

“They absolutely are not! And besides, what if there are nuts around?”

Penelope grumbles. Her allergy had become milder with age, but is still very present. She can touch nuts as long as she washes her hands quickly after, and can sit near someone eating them as long as she isn’t too close. She even once smelled a peanut butter cookie and didn’t have a reaction.

Anthony has always been paranoid about it, though. All of the Bridgertons are, really. Penelope’s pretty sure Violet hasn’t had nuts in the house in years.

“Anthony, think of the trouble you were getting into at seventeen.”

Anthony grumbles.

“Penelope has been allergic to nuts her whole life. I think she can manage.” Benedict reasons.

Anthony looks at the two girls, seemingly considering his options before he groans.

“Fine. You can stay. But only two drinks allowed each and you are to check in with me every hour. Not via text, I want eyes on you.”

The girls nod excitedly as Siena sweeps him off into the crowd. Benedict has already disappeared, so Penelope turns to Eloise. The girls burst into laughter.

“Come on. Let’s put our stuff down and find some drinks.” Eloise says, taking her hand.

They find themselves hanging out with Daphne and some friends from her year. Daphne’s only half-listening to their conversation, eyes stuck on one of Anthony’s absurdly handsome friends.

“Is that not the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen?” She whispers to Penelope. “I mean, come on.” 

Penelope giggles. It’s true, he is gorgeous. Tall, fit body, well-dressed in a stylish and expensive outfit. His light-brown skin and perfect bone structure, honey eyes, and giant hands were like something from a magazine.

“He looks like a model. I’ve never seen anyone like that in person.” Penelope agrees.

“He looks airbrushed!” Daphne giggles. “God, if I were, what, four years older? three, maybe? How old does someone have to be for a seven year age gap not to be totally weird?” She asks.

“Twenty five, at least.” Eloise says. “Maybe slightly younger for you, since you’ve been elderly since you were twelve.” 

“I can’t wait that long. Surely, someone will snatch him up before then.” Daphne frets.

“Between you and me, Simon’s not all that great.” Someone says in Penelope’s ear. 

She turns to find a boy standing behind her.

“Oh, um… do you know him?” She asks, confused as to why he’s talking to her.

He smiles down at her.

“A bit. Not super well. I’d like to know you, though.”

Oh. Oh.

Be cool. Be cool. Like, so cool. 

“Oh.”

Not cool!

The boy laughs.

“I’m Henry, I tagged along with some uni friends who have been lost to the crowds.”

She smiles slightly before introducing herself, like any other living human person who is totally normal would.

“Penelope. How tragic, the crowds are a terrible place to fall victim to.”

Okay. Better.

“I can imagine, especially for someone as petite as yourself.”

Henry’s eyes run up and down her body. She nearly shivers. No one’s ever looked at her like that before.

“Yes. Crowds, things on shelves, basketball, rollercoasters…” 

He laughs. Laughs!

“Oof. Rollercoasters?”

“Oh, yeah. And don’t even get me started on walking with tall people.”

They talk for a while. It’s fun, flirting. The cadence is like a game. Back and forth, outdoing each other, aiming for a laugh. She ends up on the couch next to him, Benedict kissing someone nearby and Eloise chatting with several of his friends. Electricity courses through her every time Henry moves closer. She knows what comes next. There’s a logical next step that she’s pretending not to panic about.

A kiss.

Henry gets up to use the toilet and returns minutes later, sitting closer this time. He props his elbow on the back of the couch and leans his head on his hand so his face is right in front of hers. His hand moves to rest on her waist. It kind of tickles. She tilts her head towards him, pretending she’s done this before. 

“You’re very pretty, Penelope.” He says.

Butterflies swarm her stomach.

“Thank you.” She breathes, eyes darting to his lips.

He finally leans all the way in, pressing their lips together. He opens his mouth and their tongues touch. He tastes odd, like beer and something else, but she pushes past. She sighs, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder and grinning when he squeezes her hip. Those butterflies fly out of her stomach and throughout her body, tickling every inch of her. Her skin, her feet, her hands, her lips, her… throat?

Oh no.

She pulls away suddenly.

“You okay?” He asks, eyebrows pushed together.

The tingle in her throat is quickly turning into a burn.

“I- what was the last thing you ate?”

“What?”

“Just tell me, please.”

She already knows.

“My friends raided the snack cabinet and found peanut puffs. I had some on the way to the bathroom. Are you okay?”

Oh, God.

She turns towards Eloise, but she’s gone.

Shit.

The clock is ticking. Only about one minute, maybe two before this becomes very embarrassing. She stands and pushes past guests to get to the closet where her and Eloise left their coats, her EpiPen safe in the pocket. Pulling the door open, she rifles through, unable to find it.

Tears prickle at her eyes and she starts wheezing.

“Penelope?”

Daphne.

Penelope turns to her for one second, and She instantly knows what’s wrong.

“Oh, God. Where? Where is it?”

She tugs at a coat.

“Your coat? Is it not there?”

Penelope shakes her head.

“Okay. Let’s find it. Come with me.”

Grabbing Penelope’s wrist, she pulls her back through the crowd and into one of the bedrooms. Daphne sits her on the bed and turns to leave.

Don’t go.

Before she reaches the door, it’s pulled open by Benedict.

“What’s going on? Why are- shit, Pen! Where is it?”

“Her coat. She left it in the closet but it’s not there.” Daphne explains.

“Fuck. I moved it so- fuck. I’ll go get it.” 

He rushes out and Penelope lays back on the bed, horrible sounds scratching her throat as she struggles to breathe. She tries to sniffle, but it’s no use. Her throat is almost completely closed. 

“Penelope? Please, oh my God. Ben!”

He comes rushing through the door right when her vision starts to sparkle. The EpiPen is thrust into her thigh.

Ten… nine… eight…

She gasps for air at three, coughing wildly and rolling onto her side. Eloise comes barreling into the room, Anthony and Colin in tow.

“Pen! Pen! What happened? Are you okay?”

Eloise helps her sit up, and she catches Anthony giving Ben the most obvious “I told you so” look she’s ever seen. Colin hands her a bottle of water.

“What?!” Benedict exclaims. “How was I supposed to know that there would be peanuts here? There’s not even any food out.” 

“What did you eat, Penelope?” Daphne asks.

If it was possible, Penelope’s face would have turned even redder.

“Peanut puffs.” She chokes.

“You ate a peanut puff?! Are you crazy?” Eloise says.

More tears fall down her cheeks. She’s too dizzy to try and lie.

“No. I kissed someone who had just eaten them.”

“Oh.” 

Yeah. Oh.

“You kissed someone? Here?” Colin exclaims. She looks up at him incredulously.

“Yes, contrary to popular belief, some people find me kissable.” She sneers. His face slacks.

“No- that’s not what I-” He sputters. “It’s just, it wasn’t one of Ben’s weird art friends, was it?”

“My art friends are not weird, they are unique.”

The boys start bickering and Daphne giggles when Penelope doesn’t say anything. 

“Oh, God, you don’t know if it was one of his friends, do you?”

Putting a hand on her forehead, Penelope snorts.

“Not a clue.”

Daphne laughs, clutching her stomach and leaning back.

“Pen!” Eloise exclaims, jaw slack. “You minx!”

She joins in on their laughter, even going so far as to high five Penelope.

“His name is Henry, I think.” She says.

“Was he at least cute?” Eloise asks.

Penelope shrugs.

“In the dark.”

They laugh even harder, soothing the burning hot embarrassment in her stomach. The door opens again, Marina peeking in.

“What’s going on?”

Colin sighs.

“Pen kissed someone-”

“Ooh, who?” She looks over excitedly. The girls burst into laughter again.

“He had just eaten peanut puffs, so she had an allergic reaction.”

Marina looks over at Penelope, seeing her hives.

“Ugh. Now we’ll have to spend the evening in A&E.” 

Penelope doesn’t miss the way Colin looks at Marina when she says that.

“Come on, then. Let’s get you there before the EpiPen wears off.” She says, taking Penelope’s coat from Benedict and helping her into it.

Marina tucks Penelope under her arm, walking her out. It’s a nice glimpse at the old Marina, which makes Penelope smile.

Eloise drives them to A&E, and she never sees Henry again. Colin frets over her during the whole trip, which is nice, because he ignores Marina. He even makes her a bowl of ice cream when they’re back at the Bridgerton house. (Her favorite is mint chip. His is cookie dough with olive oil and sea salt sprinkled on top, which she thinks is insane.)

Benedict and Daphne never eat nuts again.

Fall 2022

Penelope plops down into a chair between Eloise and Colin, Francesca across from them. In the front of her mind, she’s exhausted, emotionally and physically from what has to have been the world’s longest day. In the back of her mind, she’s grateful that her mother was willing to invite all the Bridgertons to her Philippa’s wedding, and even more grateful that so many of them came. Anthony and Benedict couldn’t make it, with Ben on a trip out of the country and Kate set to give birth any day now, but the rest of the family is in attendance.

“You okay?” Eloise asks, bumping her foot under the table.

Penelope shrugs, accepting Colin’s drink when he offers it to her.

“Almost over.” He says, leaning to whisper in her ear. 

She shivers. He’s been doing that a lot lately; getting really close to her to whisper, touching her, smiling secretly. There is no logical explanation for it that she can think of, especially with Eloise constantly staring daggers at him. All she knows is every time he does something like that, her body quakes. Her mind freezes. Her imagination runs wild. 

“Remind me that if I ever get married I do not want Portia involved.”

Portia had essentially planned this entire wedding. It started as little bits of advice, but quickly turned into her bulldozing over everyone until Philippa and Albion just let her do what she wanted. It was easier than fighting about it.

“Something tells me you won’t need a reminder.” Francesca quips, smiling lightly.

Penelope laughs. 

“Well, today might have sucked, but you look amazing, Pen.” Colin says earnestly.

She thinks about the insane piece of shapewear her mother surprised her with that morning. The way she didn’t even fight about it after seeing the desperate look on Philippa’s face, just quietly going to put it on. The way it took two people to pull on. The way it made her legs start to go numb during the ceremony. The expletives from Eloise when she helped her pull it off after the pictures were taken.

She thinks about her mother standing over the makeup artist’s shoulder, making sure she hid enough freckles. Or her mother whispering to the photographer (who looked shocked by whatever she was saying), with a finger pointed at Penelope. And when she crashed the bridesmaid dress shopping day, bogarting their fun and making Penelope feel like the smallest whale alive.

“I mean it.” He says, putting a hand on her knee to pull her out of her head.

She smiles politely. “Thanks.”

“Colin, let’s get Pen a drink.” Eloise says, standing abruptly.

He looks between the two of them, reading his sister’s expression and agreeing to go with her. Penelope slumps even more into her seat when they walk away, glad to be left with peaceful Francesca.

They sit quietly for a moment, watching people move about the ballroom.

“Do you think Cressida’s neck gets tired from those massive headpieces?” Francesca wonders aloud suddenly.

The question is so genuine, and so clearly not intended as an insult, that it makes Penelope laugh.

Francesca giggles.

“I suppose that came out poorly.”

Penelope shakes her head.

“I think her neck must have some sort of crazy muscle mass or something. Or maybe her head is so empty that the headpiece makes it a normal weight.” 

Francesca snorts.

“Pen!”

They laugh together until Penelope’s stomach grumbles.

“Hungry?” Francesca asks.

Penelope had barely touched her dinner, fielding off angry looks from her mother any time she picked up her fork at the head table.

“Starved.”

Francesca nudges her barely-touched piece of cake towards Penelope.

“Here, I’m not much of a cake person.”

Hyacinth and Gregory pop up out of nowhere, their own cake in hand, stealing Eloise and Colin’s seats.

“Hello, Pen.” Hyacinth greets.

Penelope smiles. She loves their antics.

“Hello, children.” 

Gregory mumbles, blushing when Penelope tugs on his ear.

“Having fun?”

Hyacinth nods.

“This cake is divine. You have to try it! This is our second slice.”

High praise from little Hyacinth. Penelope chuckles, picking up the fork from Francesca’s plate before taking a bite.

Hyacinth was right. It is divine.

Thick, chocolatey, creamy… the perfect thing to soothe her woes and fill her stomach.

She takes another bite, laughing at a sarcastic comment from Gregory when her mouth starts tingling.

No.

She doesn’t say anything at first, because there’s no way in hell Philippa has nuts in her wedding cake and didn’t tell Penelope beforehand.

No way.

Then, she wheezes.

“Pen? Oh, oh, Pen.” 

Francesca jumps up, pushing a glass of water in Penelope’s face. 

“Where is it?”

Penelope thinks. She hadn’t kept track of her purse very well, since she assumed everything would be nut-free and she only has allergic reactions upon consumption now. Her head starts swimming. Her eyes widen.

They cleaned out the Bridal Suite at the venue already so they wouldn’t have to do it after the reception. She remembers being frustrated that her purse was taken to the hotel with the rest of the stuff.

“Not here.” She croaks, anxiety making breath even harder to find.

Oh, God…

“Go find dad. See if he has his EpiPen. I’ll call 999.” Francesca orders the kids, calm despite her quivering hands.

“Outside.” Penelope manages. Her mother will kill her if she’s carried out of the wedding by paramedics.

“We should stay put-”

“Out. Si-” she coughs, standing and swaying.

Francesca wraps an arm around her, supporting her weight.

“Hyacinth, go. We’ll be out front.”

Hyacinth jumps up and runs off into the crowd, pulling a terrified Gregory along with her. Francesca has her out front in no time, Penelope too distressed to even notice that they’re moving. The outdoor air helps calm her a bit. Francesca talks to 999 while Penelope puts her head between her legs.

“Yes, it’s nuts. Peanuts and tree nuts. We’re at a wedding, and there must have been something in the cake-”

Daphne and Simon come outside after seeing them leave. Daphne immediately sits next to her and strokes her back soothingly.

Her wheezing gets louder.

Where are they?

One of Philippa’s friends stumbles out for a smoke, taking one look at the situation and bolting back inside. Penelope’s stomach drops. She puts her head down.

So much for being discreet.

Voices dance through her ears as more people join them outside. Penelope’s eyes stay trained on the floor. Colin is there, she can tell based on the shouting that starts. She catches Eloise’s dress fluttering in her line of sight going back inside, presumably to find her parents.

Colin boots Frannie from her spot next to Penelope, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. She calms a bit, his large hand squeezing hers.

“Breathe, Pen. They’re almost here.”

Breathe. 

In. Out.

“Penelope?!”

Philippa crouches in front of her, so pretty and so scared in her white dress.

“What was it?”

“The cake.” Francesca says, still on the phone.

Her face drops.

“Penelope, I didn’t know, I swear. I didn’t even pick the cake. We tried a bunch and I gave three to Mum to pick from-”

Colin stiffens. Daphne stops her movements. Francesca gasps. Penelope’s eyes flutter closed. 

“Fuck.” Simon grumbles.

“We’re here! We’re here!” 

Hyacinth and Gregory sprint towards them, Edmund’s EpiPen held high above Greg’s head like a trophy. He stops in front of her, fumbling with it to pull out the blue pin when he drops it. Everyone exclaims, reaching for the pen, none faster than Hyacinth.

Sweet, little Hyacinth pushes the pen into her thigh. Colin counts down from ten in Penelope’s ear.

She breathes on five, eyes opening. 

The coughing and sputtering would be embarrassing, but her uncontrollable crying is the worst part. She usually cries a bit after a reaction, just from fear and adrenaline, but this is not the same.

Portia must hate her.

All day, she’s been trying to keep Penelope miserable. All her life, she’s been forgetting about her youngest. Forgetting about her likes, dislikes, personality, and life-threatening nut allergy.

It feels like she’s doing it on purpose. Sadness muddles her distressed mind.

Eloise leans on her shoulder while Penelope sits wrapped up by Colin. Prudence crouches in front of her, water in hand.

“Penelope, you must drink.”

Hyperventilating, Penelope goes to take the glass, but Prudence keeps a hold on it, guiding it to her lips when she sees how shaky Penelope is.

“Atta girl.” 

The ambulance lights appear, flashing brightly as they pull up next to them. Portia comes rushing out in a frenzy, Archibald in tow.

“Oh, my! What happened? What did you eat?”

Philippa steps out of her husband's arms, tear streaks on her face, pointing at her mother. 

“The cake.”

“What?”

“There were nuts in the cake that you ordered.”

Prudence gasps, standing and facing the women.

“You chose a cake with nuts?” Her father asks.

Portia’s mouth opens and closes, clearly taken aback by her daughter and husband’s anger.

“I- yes, it was the best one. There was a bit of pecan in the filling.”

“Why would you do that?!” Prudence shouts.

“I simply chose the best one.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe I wanted my sister to be able to enjoy cake at my wedding?” Philippa says.

Portia looks around and the crowd gathering near them. She lowers her voice, plastering a smile on her face.

“Dear, we cannot be expected to remove an entire, very common, food from an event for one person.” She places a hand on Philippa’s arm, who pulls away.

“We did.” Simon chimes, fuming with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Excuse me?” Portia scoffs.

“Our wedding was nut-free. We, like Philippa, wanted the entire bridal party to be able to enjoy the food, worry-free.” He snaps.

Penelope looks away from the paramedic taking her vitals.

“Anthony and Kate’s wedding was nut-free, too.” Daphne says.

“But I wasn’t in their wedding.” Penelope points out.

Daphne smiles sadly and shrugs.

“He didn’t want you to have to worry.”

She remembers being able to eat everything there, but no one told her it was done intentionally. The fact that the Bridgertons thought of her when planning their weddings fills her broken heart. She starts crying all over again, because they love her so completely and her mother just… doesn’t.

“It was quite easy, too. It’s a common enough allergy that the catering staff had no issue removing any traces of it.” Violet says coldly, hand gripping her husband’s as they cut through the crowd to get to their kids.

The stretcher is pulled from the ambulance, and Penelope stands when a very concerned Violet and Edmund approach.

“Edmund, th-”

He waves her off, walking over to cup her face gently.

“I owed you one, Pen.”

He kisses her head sweetly and wraps her in a tight hug, Violet smoothing her hair back.

The paramedic clears her throat.

“We ought to get you to A&E, ma’am, before the epi wears.”

Penelope nods, allowing them to help her onto the stretcher. Her sisters flock to her sides.

“Penelope, I’m so sorry…”

Her poor sister is such a mess on her wedding day.

“Don’t, Pip. It’s not your fault, I’m totally fine. I might even be back before the night is over. Go have enough fun for both of us, yeah?”

Her sister nods, engulfing Penelope is a tight hug. Prudence squeezes her hand, looping her arm through Philippa’s.

“You’ll go with?” She asks Eloise, before they head back in.

Eloise nods. 

“I’ll text you.”

Penelope is loaded into the ambulance, Eloise next to her, Colin moping that they only allow one person to ride with her.

“I’ll see you there.” He promises. She nods.

Eloise and Colin are by her side during the entire A&E trip, and the whole thing takes only a couple of hours. Apparently, she’s not as allergic to pecans as peanuts or cashews. They end up getting back before the end of the night.

Most of the guests have gone to the hotel, and Hyacinth practically knocks Penelope over with the force of her hug. She excitedly tells Penelope that Philippa and Albion kicked Portia out after she was hauled away in the ambulance.

“Hyacinth, let her breathe.” Colin chastises, moving to pry her away.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Penelope assures, voice still raspy from earlier. She leans her head on Hyacinth’s. “You know, you saved me today.”

“It was a team effort.” Hyacinth’s voice wobbles.

Penelope pulls back, looking straight at the little girl. “Little” might not be the best term, since they’re the same height now. She swipes her thumb across Hyacinth’s cheeks to dry them.

“Thank you, Hyacinth.” 

Hyacinth sniffles.

“I love you, Pen.”

“I love you, too.”

They join the dance floor, closing out the night with the rest of the Bridgertons and Featheringtons.

The cake, which had an pecan ganache filling, is the last tree nut item Hyacinth, Greg, and Francesca consume.

Winter 2024

Colin is not having fun in Switzerland.

He’s been looking forward to this trip for months. It’s a collaboration thing with some other travel influencer friends of his. They’re supposed to be doing content on living in a Christmas town during the holiday, but it just isn’t fun.

Maybe it’s because the shared flat is smaller than anticipated. Maybe it’s the guilt tripping happening in the family group chat. Maybe it’s bothering him more than he thought it would be that he’s missing Christmas.

But he has a sneaking suspicion that it’s because Penelope has not spoken to him since he left over a month ago.

It’s funny how you don’t realize how much you talk to someone until they ghost you.

Late at night, a few days before Christmas, when he’s up trying to fall asleep and not think about her, he thinks back to her birthday party. Pen had been monstrously drunk, and he accidentally stumbled across her anonymous blog when she passed him her phone to order an Uber.

Lady Whistledown.

He only saw a bit of it, and it looked to be mostly personal entries about her life, similar to a diary. The only thing he saw seemed to be about her mother. It was private, and he didn’t want to embarrass her, so he just dropped it. Didn’t bring it up, didn’t ask questions. Just let it go.

No harm, no foul.

But tonight, he can’t stop thinking about it. Surely, she’s written about him at some point, maybe there are some answers about why they aren’t speaking? 

He has willpower. Really, he does. But it’s so late and she’s so far away and Eloise was no help so he opens his phone and Googles Lady Whistledown.

Holy. Fuck.

The top result is the blog, but below that is article after article about Whistledown. About her.

BBC. 

New York Times.

The Washington Post.

Variety.

Apparently, her blog is a huge hit in America. Hundreds of thousands of hits for a story following a girl’s real life, hidden under pseudonyms. A real life diary. He clicks on the BBC article.

Lady Whistledown: How one woman’s unrequited love story turned her into an overnight viral sensation.

Unrequited love? He skims the story, stopping at a quotation block.

“It’s not easy, but it’s real. This is me telling a true story as it unfolds. I don’t know the end, but isn’t that what makes it so exciting? Maybe if it all works out, I’ll reveal myself. Otherwise I think I’d die of embarrassment.”

He hits the back button, going straight to her blog. 

Colin doesn’t sleep that night.

Penelope is in love with someone. Has been for years. The story is different enough from real life that he’s not quite sure who she’s talking about. He’s pretty sure Eloise has been broken into two characters and there’s one who he thinks is a mixture of Benedict and Michaela. Otherwise, he has no idea.

This might as well be fictional.

The man is brothers with one of her acquaintances, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it might be him.

It excites him.

It scares him shitless.

But in the story, she’s so obvious about it. Lingering touches, blatant flirting… surely, he would know.

Right?

Who else would it be, though? She spends so much time with him and Eloise that he doesn’t know when she would be around this other guy.

He doesn’t read all the way from the beginning. It looks like she started it back during the pandemic, and there are only so many hours in an evening. The most recent entry captures his attention completely.

The holidays are here, people, which means weirdness is in store for your favorite Lady. I haven’t spent any time with my mother since Charlie’s wedding, just a phone call here and there.

We attend separate holidays.

It’s funny, how I always reflect in times like these, when I should be with my family. I feel better about myself than ever before. This blog is successful (and now making ad revenue, thank you very much!), I have a virtual army of supporters rooting for me, I have a closet full of new clothes that highlight instead of hide my body, and friends who love and care about me. I’ve even been dating around, going out, meeting new people.

Crazy, right?

For the first time, I feel like I really know myself. And I like her.

I just wish it didn’t take so much struggle to get here.

Although, no journey worth completing is without its obstacles, of which there have been plenty. Going shopping and finding out the hard way that they don’t make my size, douchebag guys either fetishizing my body or finding it repulsive, hate comments, trying to work out this book deal for a story that has no ending yet, the obligatory phone calls with my mother, that time I liked a guy who turned out to be gay, when Xavier said in front of an entire crowd of people that he would never, ever, date me…

That one stung. It happened about a month ago.

Did it sting because of the unyielding love for him I’ve harbored since childhood? Absolutely. Heartbreak plays a big part in my pain, but my love has always been unrequited. I’m used to having my heart broken by him. I can manage that just fine. (Although, the sting might have been made sharper by the incessant way he’s always touching me and hugging me and kissing my cheek and giving me compliments and so on and so forth.)

At first, I was confused as to why I was taking it so hard. I’ve been friendzoned by him probably one hundred times, so why was this so much worse?

What hurt the most was that my friend announced to a group of people that he didn’t find me dateable, and they laughed about it.

It just never occurred to me that Xavier, of all people, could be so cruel.

The old me would have taken those words and shoved them away, proceeding as normal. Who was I to refuse a friendship, after all? I should take what I can get, being such an outcast.

The new me is no longer desperate for love. I have it. I don't have to accept anything less than I deserve. And I did not deserve that.

But, since self-evolution is ongoing and never complete, I still can’t quite manage to confront him about it.

So, I’m ghosting him.

Not the most mature, maybe, but better than just taking it. Baby steps, right?

I muted his texts and socials to make it easier, because one thing I’ve learned about myself is that I have serious trouble saying no to Xavier. If I get a notification, I’ll reply. And I do not want to reply. I even deleted snapchat off my phone, citing a “social media cleanse.”

No one even knows about it except Mary, who cornered me to ask a hundred questions. Xavier is not used to being ignored by me (or anyone) and he is nothing if not a complainer, so it’s no surprise that he went to Mary for information.

Anyway, here’s how that went:

Mary: “Can you just tell me what happened? And what you’d like me to tell him?”

Me: *tells story*

Her: *grabs her phone to wreak havoc*

Me: “Please don’t.”

Her: “Why? He’s a fucking tosser. He should know that. Someone should yell at him. And that someone is me. Wanker might be a better word. Or bastard, maybe?”

Me: “Mary, we’re not publicly shaming anyone. It’s not about that. I’m trying to figure out how to handle this myself. It’s between me and him.”

Her: “Well, what should I tell him? He’s only going to keep asking and sticking us on you for information.”

Me: “I don’t know. Tell him I need space.”

Mary dropped it after that. We cuddled and watched Love Island after. I’m so grateful for Mary; it’s nice to have a friend who knows just how much to push.

Anyway, looks like there’s no mint chip and cookie dough-olive oil-sea salt concoctions and cuddle time for me in the near future. I’m spending the holiday with Amelia again since he won’t be there, so I’ll let you all know how that goes.

Thanks for reading, have a great holiday if you’re celebrating! See you all next month.

- Lady Whistledown

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck.

He doesn’t even give himself a moment to process anything. He just books a plane ticket home.

He gets to Aubrey Hall before she does, and his family is thrilled to see him. His mother is so overjoyed; he knew she was upset he was missing Christmas, but didn’t realize she had been holding back her disappointment. 

Ben claps him on the shoulder.

“What a surprise! Anything in particular bring you back, Brother?”

Colin shakes his head.

“Just my family, Ben.”

“Ah, so this wouldn’t have anything to do with the radio silence from Pen?”

His eyes narrow. Of course Ben knows about that. There’s a commotion by the front door, and Ben chuckles when Colin’s head jerks toward the sound.

“Wise up, Brother.”

Whatever that means.

He hangs back as everyone moves to greet Penelope and Eloise, suddenly not really sure what to do. He didn’t do a whole lot of thinking before buying a plane ticket. He didn’t do any on the plane, in the Uber, or when he arrived, either. He just… had to see her.

Why, exactly? To straighten things out, sure, but how? He said what she heard, and her assumptions were right. He was cornered and spoke out of his arse and owes her an apology.

So… what? She made it clear she doesn’t really want an apology. Or him around her. Then there’s the matter of reading her secret blog…

Shit.

His feet guide him to the foyer and he’s asking himself why, why, why?

He sees her there, crouched down, listening to Augie talk her ear off while Eddie uses her leg for balance as he reaches up to touch her face. She turns her head, playfully taking little Eddie’s hand and pretending to chomp on it, earning a giggle in the background of Augie’s story.

She’s wearing an ugly Christmas sweater, red hair unstyled and freshly washed, not a stitch of makeup on her face. Daphne approaches, and Pen stands to greet her, patting Augie’s face affectionately while laughing at something his mother says.

He doesn’t need to think anymore, because suddenly, he knows.

He knows why he came back, why he was having a shitty time in Switzerland, why he feels so bad about what he said… He lied. To himself, to her, to those shitty people at that shitty fucking party.

Colin wants to kiss her. Badly. He doesn’t want to stop there, either. He wants to run his hands through her hair, tug on it, take off that heinous sweater and fall into bed and lose himself in her. He wants to fall asleep with her, wake up with her, cook with her, take her everywhere on his arm, and - woah.

He is hopelessly, irrevocably, pitifully in love with Penelope Featherington.

The feeling isn’t even new, either. It’s as if it’s been there forever, slowly growing inside him. It blossoms through his entire being now as he names it.

He’s such an idiot for not realizing anything until she wasn’t there anymore. He never wants her not there. He wants her by his side forever, and he thinks he’s wanted that since… well, forever.

Too bad she’s looking at him with surprise written on her features.

His expression can’t be that different, but he’s not able to cooly walk up to her and greet her like nothing’s actually wrong. Everything is wrong. Everything is different, but not really, but he actually has no fucking clue and everything is turning upside down.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“Pen!” his voice cracks so loudly that Gregory snorts from somewhere. Christ, he forgot anyone else was in the room, or anywhere, really.

“Hi.” She greets politely, smiling awkwardly. “You’re… here.”

Colin nods. He’s ambushed her.

Shit.

Thankfully, his parents interrupt him by bustling in the room, greeting Eloise and Pen.

“Hello, allergy buddy.” Edmund says, wrapping her in a hug. She rolls her eyes playfully. “Glad be a party of two at this holiday.”

She laughs. “Yes, because bees are just everywhere this time of year.”

He chuckles as Violet wraps her up, leaning back to cup her face and complement her like one of her own before whisking her away.

Colin remains in the foyer. Standing like an idiot.

Benedict magically appears next to him.

“Wise up, Brother?”

Colin spends the afternoon acting like a grump who has never actually talked to another living person. Words fail him and everyone gives up talking to him when they catch onto his absent “uh huh” and “yeahs,” so he ends up on the floor with little Eddie, helping him try to stand.

He can barely function.

She’s so mad at him and won’t even look his way and she's so pretty and her lips are so kissable and she’s right there…

Fuck.

Anthony and Ben plop down on the sofa behind Colin, drinks in hand. Anthony claps him on the shoulder, not that he really notices. He’s watching Penelope unwrap a cupcake with her pretty little hands.

“So, Colin, how do you feel about the UN deciding to turn the sky purple and surgically add wings to the continent’s pigs? I think it’s stupendous.”

She discards the paper, lifting the cupcake to her lips to take a bite as she nods along to something Francesca says.

“Uh huh.” he hums.

She takes a bite, and fuck… there’s some icing left on her lip when she pulls it away.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you. I murdered someone yesterday and am running from the police.”

Now she’s licking her lips. Was she always such an erotic eater? 

“Cool,” he says to his brother, eyes locked on Penelope.

“It’s so interesting, too, how Mum ran out of food and there’s actually nothing to eat for Christmas this year.”

She licks her finger. His cock twitches.

“Boo!”

Augie jumps in front of him, yelping and snapping Colin back into the present. He jumps, scared shitless by his nephew, urging his heart to slow the hell down. Augie throws his arms around Colin’s neck, and he chuckles awkwardly, pretending he’s been an active participant in everything around him. Gregory and Hyacinth laugh at him from somewhere. He has a sneaking suspicion they were behind this.

He’d be annoyed by their games, but he’s too busy thinking about how monumentally fucked he is.

Eloise mentions that she and Penelope are going to the annual town bonfire somewhere in town with Eloise’s boyfriend who she’s pretending isn’t actually her boyfriend. Benedict turns down an invitation to join, and Colin speaks up before he can stop himself.

“I’ll go.” he says, shuffling awkwardly at their surprised looks.

He’s gone many times, so it’s not weird that he’s going. Well, the silence in the room is kind of weird. So is the way Penelope turns to look away from him.

Philip picks them up a few minutes later, and Colin is thankful that there’s an extra person to talk to. They make polite conversation during the short drive, and he touches Pen’s wrist when they climb out of the car.

“Hey.” he says. Where is he supposed to begin?

I’m a liar and an idiot. I’m so sorry.

You look really pretty. You’re always really pretty.

I think I love you.

I read your blog.

We need to make out. ASAP.

“Hi.” She says.

He clears his throat.

“Um, I’ve missed you.”

She hums, looking off towards the crowd. His heart races from where it sits in his throat.

“A lot. I always miss you when I’m gone-”

“Yeah. You always say that when you come back.” She cuts.

Shit.

“Well, it’s true.”

“So, you miss me, but you’d never date me?”

Even though he knew it was coming, the words threaten to knock him on his ass. Weirdly enough, he’s kind of proud of her. She’s always avoided confrontation at all costs and he’s glad to see her standing up for herself, even if it’s to him.

He doesn’t know what to say. What is there to say?

“Pen, I - “

“I never asked you to date me.”

Her soft, blue eyes are sharp on him, stabbing his guilty heart.

“What?”

“I never asked. I mean, I let you act like we were dating whenever it benefitted you. I guess I didn’t know your flirting was just for fun. Tell me, do you cuddle all your female friends like that? Do you sleep in Michaela’s bed like you do in mine? Do you stick your hand under her shirt when you lay together?”

He doesn’t feel like that’s very fair of her. The flirting was never one-sided. She treats him like a boyfriend plenty, stealing his clothes, ordering food for him at restaurants, arriving and leaving outings with him. He’s given her foot rubs, cooked for her, poured her wine, picked her up, dropped her off…

Whatever. He’ll take the accusation. She can yell at him all she wants, at least she’s talking to him.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

She exhales harshly, rolling her eyes.

“Okay. Thanks for that.”

No. No. That’s not what he meant.

“No, not sorry for… cuddling or sleeping with you.” 

He backtracks when he hears his own words.

“Not like that! I mean sleeping. Next to you. Like you mentioned. I’m sorry for saying that. It was cruel.”

Crossing her arms, she looks down at her feet.

“That’s… nice. Thanks.”

Just say it.

“It’s also a lie.” He says softly.

Her head snaps up.

“What?”

Can’t go back now.

“That I would never date you. It’s a lie. I don’t even know why I said it. Maybe I was embarrassed that so many people picked up on it before I did…” he trials off.

She stares incredulously at him. Her mouth opens and closes and she shakes her head.

“What are you saying?”

Yes, what is he saying?

“I’m saying I’m sorry, that I like you, too, that I would date you.”

He steps closer.

“And not in some hypothetical scenario. I’d date you in this one. In fact, I’d…” He swallows nervously, charm escaping him for the first time ever. “I’d like to.”

“Oh.”

Yeah. Oh.

He can’t gauge her expression. It seems like she can’t decide whether or not to be mad at him, but he has no idea what that means. All he knows is that she does not look happy.

Has he misread this? Is he not Xavier?

“Penelope!” 

Tilly Arnold rushes over, wrapping Pen in a hug.

“Hi.” She greets absently, eyes still on him.

“You have to have one of these drinks! Alex brought some mystery apple liqueur or something that he won’t shut up about.”

Tilly drags her away. Penelope glances at him over her shoulder. His stomach sinks. God, he could cry. He’s embarrassed, heartbroken, muddled, sad… He stocks off into the woods, sitting on a fallen tree and burying his head in his hands.

He’s so stupid. So fucking stupid.

She’s done accepting less than she deserves, which is him. He’s foolish for thinking he can show up and just… have her. He’s not good enough. She’s not dealing with him anymore. 

He sniffles. 

Fuck.

He shouldn’t have come.

Pulling out his phone, he pulls up Ben’s number to call and ask to be picked up. There’s a chorus of laughter over by the fire. A tear lands on his screen.

Get it together.

Just as his thumb hovers over the call button, a scream breaks through the laughter. The crowd quiets for a moment, and he looks toward the fure, view obscured by branches.

Someone else cries out.

“Call 999!”

He doesn’t know how, but he knows it’s her.

Branches fall in his wake as he crashes through the trees, sprinting through the open grass towards the fire. There’s a group huddled in a circle, making a commotion, panicking at whatever they’re standing around. Someone steps out of the way for a moment, and the sight of her red hair catches his eye.

He bodies people to get to her. Pushing, shoving, even throwing a folding chair out of the way until he’s on his knees in front of her. Her face is blue, lips purple, eyes rolling back in her head. She looks like his father all those years ago, laying in the grass after a bee sting.

How is she already almost unconscious? What did she eat?

It’s peanuts - has to be. Maybe almonds or cashews? She’s never reacted this severely to any other nut, even when they were young. Christ, she hasn’t reacted to anything like this since they were kids. Whatever she ate, she had a lot of, and they don’t have much time.

“Where’s your bag?”

She wheezes, meeting his eyes, and fuck, she’s scared.

“Pen!” He grips her shoulders. “Where?!”

Her arm limply flops out towards the car park as she writhes on the ground.

The car.

“Ok. Ok hang on.” 

He sprints to the parking lot, shouting “Move!” to the bystanders and he thinks he shoves someone to the ground. Philip didn’t park too far away, so he’s there in moments, grabbing the door handle to yank it open and-

His fingers snap off the handle.

He tries again, pulling harder.

Nothing.

He rushes around the car, trying every door, even though her knows they’re locked and Philip has the keys and where the fuck did he go? Where is Eloise?

His stomach falls through his feet, past Hell, and down in the freezing cold depths of something that seeps into his veins.

“Eloise!” He shouts, turning heads in his direction.

Nothing.

“Eloise!”

The sensation of crying out in such a guttural, primal way is foreign and hurts his throat. It doesn’t matter, he barely notices, too busy searching for something to break the car window with.

“Fuck! Elo-”

The telltale sound of the locks flipping open interrupts him.

Nearly ripping off the handle, he opens the door and pulls out Penelope’s purse, flipping it over and shaking until the EpiPen falls out. Gripping it in his fist, he runs faster than he ever has to get to her, lying unconscious on the ground, a hysterical Eloise gripping her hand.

He doesn’t even notice her. He doesn’t even think. He just stabs Penelope’s thigh with the pen as hard as he can, holding it to her, and beginning a countdown in his head when he hears the click.

Ten.

“Please, Pen. Please, please…”

Nine.

“Oh, my God. Oh my God, Colin.”

Eight.

“Shut the fuck up, Eloise.”

Seven.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Six.

“I don’t know, Alex made her a drink with that apple stuff…”

“I thought she was allergic to nuts?”

Five.

She usually breathes by now, but she hasn’t even moved. He can hear the sirens coming closer.

Four.

“Come on, Pen. Come on…”

Three.

“Oh, my God. Is she dead?” 

“Why isn’t it working?”

Two.

“I love you. I fucking love you, Pen. I’m so in love with you and I need you to breathe.”

One.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t dare to, but neither does she.

“What do we do?” Eloise asks, eyes wide, skin pale.

“She needs another one.”

“Does she have one?”

“Go fucking look!” He cries, startling himself and his sister. His face feels wet. He must look insane.

Gently gripping Penelope’s face, he moves his ear to her mouth to see if she’s breathing. Phillip is there suddenly, feeling for a pulse. He nods at Colin.

Alive. 

Her breath is so faint and he’s not entirely sure that he feels it, so he tilts her chin back, opens her mouth, and breathes into her lungs.

And he does it, over and over, breathing for her as the ambulance pulls in.

“Sir, we’ll take over-”

“She needs another EpiPen.” He barks, tossing the used one at their feet

He keeps going. He can’t stop, not for a second. She can’t die. He won’t let her die. A paramedic appears at his side, administering a second dose of epi. 

Ten.

“How long has she been out?”

Nine.

“She collapsed a few minutes ago. Passed out maybe two?” Tilley says from next to Alex.

Eight.

“Peanuts. Tree nuts.” Eloise says. The paramedic nods.

Seven.

“Are cashews tree nuts?”

His head snaps to Alex.

Six.

A paramedic steps in with a mask and a bag to pump air into her.

“Did she drink Feni?” Eloise asks. Alex nods.

Five.

“Cashews.” She says to Colin.

Four. 

She still isn’t moving. He bends closer to her, pressing his forehead to her temple and taking her hand.

Three.

“Please don’t go. Pen, please.” He cries, kissing her hand and watching her face, begging for any ounce of movement.

Two. 

Her eyes squeeze.

One.

Then, they open.

“Oh, my God.” He chokes, leaning to kiss her cheek. “Thank God.” Another kiss.

Eloise touches his shoulder, guiding him away give the paramedics a moment to put an oxygen mask on Penelope while they load her into an ambulance. Philip talks to the medics, and Colin stares straight at his sister.

“Kazkar Feni.” She utters, mascara running down her cheeks. “Cashew infused. She must not have known what was in the drink.”

He doubles over, hands on his knees, suppressing a gag. His head spins. Christ, he can barely breathe through his nose. A medic comes over, offering one of them a spot in the ambulance.

“You go.” Eloise says to him. “She’ll need you.”

Her words should ignite him. In any other situation, they would. But his girl is being loaded in an ambulance and, fuck, he needs her, too.

He blinks and he’s in the ambulance, holding her hand and pressing kiss after kiss to it. Her eyes flutter absently and whimpers as she realizes where she is.

“You’re okay.” He says, leaning in closer so she can see him. 

Her terrified eyes flit to his, and her eyebrows wrinkle in relief when she sees him. She coughs out a little sob.

He shushes her, stroking her hair back with his hand.

“Don’t cry. Just breathe. I’m here.”

Slowly, she nods, letting her eyes fall shut as she focuses on breathing. He folds her hand between his, leaning his elbows on his knees and kissing her fingers as they sit in silence.

It all seems so fucking dumb now. Not that it wasn’t before, but everything is trivial when your person almost drops dead. 

The ride is short, and they pause to let him kiss her temple before rolling her off, and he swears she leans into it.

“I’ll be there the second they let me.” He whispers. 

“Mm hmm.” Is all she can say, reaching up to trail her fingers over his stubble. 

He takes her hand and kisses it again, pressing it over his heart as he backs away.

He quickly finds himself alone in the waiting room.

He’s in a chair, head leaning on the wall when Eloise and Philip find him. That’s where he stays while they wait, Eloise making phone calls to the appropriate parties. She handles transferring Pen’s medical records, filling out the paperwork, and detailing the specifics of her allergies to the nurse. 

It’s sickening, how jealous he feels of his sister. That she gets to know these things about Pen. That she’s listed as the emergency contact, that she talks to Philippa and Prudence on the phone like she’s done it hundreds of times. That she has Pen’s medical records on her phone. That Pen probably has hers, as well. That she knows when her last period started and the last time she used an EpiPen. 

He wants to be the one to do this for her. To be the point person for her life when she can’t. To be her next of kin.

It isn’t long before a nurse comes out to update them. 

“We can allow her husband back, now.” 

Colin looks at Eloise, confused, but she just pats his knee and smiles.

“Let us know how she is?” 

He smiles, slowly and gratefully. Eloise might be a pain in the ass, but she always comes through. Placing a hand over hers, he squeezes before standing to follow the nurse.

“We’re going to keep her overnight, but she responded well to the epi and her breath sounds are good.”

He nods.

“The other woman said she had cashew liqueur. Has she reacted like this to them before?“

He searches through his memories of her allergic reactions. Really, for the amount of years he’s known her, there haven’t been very many, considering how severe the allergy used to be. 

“Uh, yeah. She once had something cross-contaminated at a restaurant. Her reaction was almost as bad as it is with peanuts.”

“When was that?”

It was the summer before Anthony went to law school, so it had to have been over ten years ago. She was at dinner with the family, Violet told the wait staff about her allergy, and they used tongs that had just put cashews on a salad to plate her food.

He’s never seen his father yell at wait staff like that before. 

“I don’t know, 2012 probably?”

The nurse smiles.

“You’ve been together a while, then?”

“We grew up together as neighbors. Little sister’s best friend, and all that.” 

Colin can’t help but smile back at him. He wouldn’t give his childhood with Pen for anything and it would all be so… fairytale, wouldn’t it?

”That’s sweet. Here she is, she’ll be tired for a while, but hopefully good to go by the morning.”

The nurse walks away and Colin heads into the room.

“Oh, Pen.”

She’s asleep, curled up into a tiny ball on the bed. An oxygen mask covers her nose and mouth and her skin is still red from the hives. Her hair has been loosely tied back, curls sticking out in the wayside. She looks so small, so frail, so alone. 

He’d give anything to take her pain. Anything.

The beep of her heart rate monitor and the steadily rising O2 is reassuring, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to wrap his entire body around her. He pulls a chair over to the bed, wincing when it makes a noise against the floor. After firing off a text to Eloise asking her to pick up a change of clothes and whatever toiletries Pen might want, he closes his phone and drops it on the side table.

When he looks at her again, she’s awake. 

“Hey.”

She makes a tired sound in return, eyelids fluttering.

“Do you remember what happened?”

After thinking for a moment, she nods, and her eyes widen at him. His stomach drops.

“You remember everything.”

Nodding again, her eyes fill with tears and she sniffles. He passes her a tissue, and she moves her mask aside to blow her nose. 

“I can leave and send Eloise back to sit with you if-”

He’s interrupted by the sound of protest she makes. She extends her arm towards him slightly, and he takes her hand. Her thumb rubs back and forth over his skin, as if she’s comforting him. Is he really that pathetic?

She almost died, for God’s sake, and she’s still taking care of him. He chuckles sadly, sniffling a bit himself and watching her eyelids flutter again.

“You should get some rest.” He whispers, running his free hand over her hair.

Sighing, she tugs at his hand.

“Do you want me to…”

She nods, tugging again.

His heart grows a pair of wings, flying around in his chest. 

She wants him to hold her. 

Maybe she’ll tell him that they’re better off as friends in the morning, or she’ll wake up and tell him to bug off. It’s no matter. As long as he has right now.

He lays down on his side next to her, face to face on the pillow. She reaches for him again, tucking her head under his chin and getting as close as she can with the mask on. Wrapping his arms around her, he slips a hand under her sweater to rub up and down her back, the other entwining with her knotted hair. She sighs contentedly.

“Rest, love.” He mumbles, lips against her forehead.

He listens to her heart rate slow on the monitor as she falls asleep, joining her soon after. 

Colin wakes to the sound of Eloise snoring on the little couch in the corner. Blinking, he rubs his eyes and lifts his head. He’s shifted to his back, Pen tucked into his side with her head on his chest.

“Good morning.”

He looks to the other side of the bed, where his dad sits with a book in his hand.

“What… what time is it?” Colin asks.

“Almost 10. Her O2 is back up to 96, so I reckon they’ll let her go by noon.” 

Colin grumbles, dropping his head back on the pillow. He avoids Edmund’s gaze, knowing exactly what he’ll find there.

It’ll be this… look that has to be dosed with some sort of truth serum. It never fails to make any of them confess whatever’s on their mind, whether they want to or not.

“Colin,” Edmund starts.

“She almost died.” Colin croaks, apparently desperate to talk anyway. Edmund sighs.

“So I heard.” 

“Like, really almost died. The way you did. Maybe even worse.”

His throat clogs again, arm tightening around her. Edmund shifts in his seat, crossing his legs and closing his book.

“It’s a good thing you were there.”

Colin nearly laughs.

“I think I was the reason she was too distracted to ask what was in her drink.” 

“Well, nobody’s perfect. She may have just forgotten.”

Colin shakes his head.

“No, I… I told her that-” he swallows nervously. “-that I wanted to be more than friends.”

He can feel blood and tears rushing to his face, so his eyes remain trained on the ceiling.

“Ah. I see.”

“And she got pulled away, and then… this.”

Edmund chuckles.

“Well, your mother will be so thrilled about this that she might even look past the fact that you did not come home to surprise her.”

“She might not have anything to be thrilled about.”

“Colin, come on.”

He finally looks at his dad, at his disbelieving expression, at the glint in his eye.

“I don’t think either of you should worry about whether you love each other, Son.”

“Is love enough?” He asks.

His father doesn’t respond right away.

“I’ve been such a jerk, Dad.”

A tear slides down his temple.

“Love is not always enough for a functioning relationship, no.” Edmund starts. “But it is enough to guide two people together and give them something to build, break apart, and repair if they’re willing.”

Colin leans his cheek on Penelope’s head, twiddling with the end of a loose lock of hair.

“Either way, it’s worth fighting for. Trust me.”

Penelope is discharged just after noon. She’s still sleepy as ever, but her O2 at a suitable level for her to go home. Her voice has made a subtle return, muddled with rasp and exhaustion. Eloise brought one of his hoodies for her, and she’s absolutely swimming in it. 

It feels weird to think she’s cute at a moment like this, but he can’t help it. She’s fucking adorable.

He’s so aware of her it feels insane. He sees her lay her head on Eloise’s shoulder in the back seat, notices when her forehead crinkles signifying a headache, feels her leg start bouncing when her anxiety sets in. 

It’s like he’s seeing her for the first time, but everything already looks beautifully familiar.

Eloise helps her up to her room when they get to Aubrey Hall. It’s still early, and the Christmas Eve festivities don’t usually start until later, so hopefully she’ll feel a little better by then. Colin camps out on the couch with Augie, staring mindlessly at some crappy kids’ holiday movie on the TV. 

They’re halfway through when Colin’s phone dings.

Pen: Can you come here?

He doesn’t even text her back, just stands and jogs up the stairs. The internal debate on whether to knock or just let himself in ends immediately when he hears a gasp on the other side.

She’s there, on the bed, wheezing and crying and panicking.

“Jesus, Pen.”

He rushes over to her, sitting next to her on the bed and taking her hand.

“Hey, hey, slow down. Is this another-?”

“No.” She chokes. “P-panic at-tack.”

He’s never seen it, but she’s mentioned that she has them sometimes, especially after an allergic reaction.

He considers going to get Eloise. She’ll know what to do.

But, Penelope didn’t text Eloise. She texted him, and she’s clutching his hands and battling through at his side.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“H-hold me.”

“Okay. Yeah, Okay. C’mere.”

He tucks them into bed, wrapping his entire body around hers from behind. His grip is firm around her, as if he’s trying to pull her back down to planet earth. To pull her back down to him.

“Breathe, Pen.” 

Guiding her breath with his own, he runs a hand up and down her arm in time with their inhales and exhales. Soon enough, her breaths slow, anxiety rolling off her in soft twitches in her limbs instead of raging panic. 

They’re quiet for a while. He presses kisses into her hair.

“I- think you read my blog.” She whispers.

He freezes.

She huffs out a laugh.

“Can’t believe no one’s found it.”

He shrugs, choosing to follow her down this lighthearted conversation route.

“Can’t believe you’re famous.” She laughs again. “Although, maybe I can. I always knew you were talented.”

They quiet down again, her fingers fluttering over his forearm.

“You’re not mad that I read it?”

She shrugs.

“I think I showed it to you on purpose.”

He props himself up.

“What?” 

She nods, looking over her shoulder at him.

“I literally pulled it up and handed my phone to you.”

“To call an Uber!”

She laughs, turning back away.

“I probably wouldn’t have showed it to you if I wasn’t drunk, but I didn’t regret it after.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t brave enough to tell you about the blog or the things in it myself, I think. It was drunk Penelope setting up sober Penelope to finally talk to you about it.”

“I would have read it sooner, but I wanted to respect your privacy.” He lays back down, wrapping himself around her again. “I waited until I was so desperate for any amount of you so badly that I couldn’t take it.”

She squeezes his hand.

“I never should have said that.” He says.

“Colin, it’s okay, I-”

“No, really. It was mean and I think I love you and I never want to make you feel like that.”

She’s silent. He just about shits himself, but he might as well go all in at this point.

“I don’t think. I know. I love you, Pen.”

And finally, she rolls over to face him. She stares for a long while, as if she’s trying to memorize him, or maybe see him for the first time.

She smiles.

He leans forward.

They kiss.

Later, when they head downstairs hand in hand, everyone whoops and hollers and teases all evening, except his parents.

They smile warmly and share a look of their own.

He sits with his hand on her leg under the table. She loops her arms around his and leans on his bicep, and they remain touching the entire night. On Christmas, he kisses her under the mistletoe and escapes with her for a mid-day snog and nap. On Boxing Day, he stays holed up in her room with her while she finally gets some rest, and she tells him all about her blog. 

The next Christmas, they’re living together.

The one after that, she’s wearing his ring.

One more Christmas and she has his name.

Two more and she’s carrying their child.

That sixth Christmas, they have Aggie’s five month checkup two days before. The doctor recommends that they introduce peanut butter to her diet to avoid an allergy.

Penelope asks if they can try it in the doctor’s office first, even though they did an allergy test beforehand and it should be fine. 

“Just in case.”

The doctor agrees, and it is, in fact, fine.

On Christmas, Eloise notices Colin mixing in a little bit of peanut butter in a bottle, just like the doctor instructed, and yanks the jar away from him. 

“What are you doing?”

“Is that peanut butter?” Hyacinth asks, looking curiously at the jar.

“God, I haven’t had peanut butter in years, I think.” Benedict says as he walks by, because apparently everyone has to be in the kitchen right now.

Colin takes the jar back and closes it tightly, filling it with Pen’s breast milk and mixing it together.

“The doctor recommended introducing peanuts to avoid an allergy.” He says.

“Yeah, we started giving the kids peanut butter at the same age.” Daphne chimes from somewhere.

Pen comes in with Aggie, fresh from a nap in an adorable, frilly holiday dress purchased by her Grandmother. Everyone coos at her and she smiles brightly, kicking her feet when she sees Colin. 

“Oh, my.” Pen says when she shrieks in her ear. “Someone sees Daddy.”

He takes his daughter, lifting her over his head and “flying” her around. The sound of her laugh is so pure, so joyful, so magical.

Settling her at his side and kissing her cheek, he sees Penelope reach for the bottle he just made.

“Woah, Woah!” 

Everyone yelps, and she jumps back with her hands up.

“What?”

“It’s got peanut butter!” Colin and Eloise yell at the same time.

She rolls her eyes, picking up the bottle anyway. 

“I can touch the bottle, jeez.”

Colin plucks it from her hands. 

“I’d still rather you not.”

Greg reaches behind Penelope for the jar of peanut butter.

“I can’t remember the last time I had peanut butter.”

“Me neither, I think.” Daphne says.

“Well, I haven’t had peanut butter since Dad got stung by a bee.” Eloise chimes.

“We know.” Everyone chimes.

“Me neither, I think.” Colin says.

Eloise turns to look at him.

“No way, doofus. Don’t try to steal my thing.”

Colin shrugs.

“It’s true. I stopped eating it because it made me think of Dad getting stung and then it reminded me of every time Penelope’s ever been hurt.”

“Oh, here they are.” 

Violet and Edmund come over to the counter, Kate, Anthony and little Eddie in tow. Anthony comes near the counter, gasping at the jar of peanut butter. 

“Who brought that?!”

Penelope rolls her eyes.

“We did!”

“Ah, introducing peanuts?” Violet asks.

Penelope nods, moving to grab the jar to put it away. It’s snatched from under her just as she touches it. She looks up to find Edmund sheepishly moving to put the jar away in the cabinet above the fridge.

“Hey! How am I supposed to reach it.”

“You’re not.” Edmund pats her shoulder.

“Oh, my God! Colin, get it down.”

“Hmm… no.”

Her jaw drops, betrayal and whimsy dancing in her eyes as she scans the room. She shakes her head and laughs the beautiful way she does when she feels loved.

“You lot…”

That night, she brings it up again.

“Did you stop eating nuts because of me?” 

He sighs from his spot on top of her, head on her stomach, hand running up and down her naked waist.

“Not at first.” 

He kisses her belly and slides up her body, trailing his lips along the way.

“I think it was unconscious, but once I noticed I was doing it I kept going.”

She hums, wrapping a hand around the arm that plants itself by her head.

“It’d be sweet if it wasn’t such a big sacrifice.” 

“C’mon, Pen.” 

He kisses her, dragging his tongue through her mouth and nibbling on her lip.

“You’d’ve done the same thing.”

She sighs as he kisses his way to the valley between her breasts.

“Plus, Mum stopped buying it while I was still too young to get myself to a store.”

Her giggles flutter in his ears and push her breasts closer to his face. He lays his head down, listening to her heart beat through the softest part of her.

“You all love me.”

He nods.

“Always have.”

“I love you all, too.” She whispers.

“Hmm, and who is your favorite?”

“Ben.”

He whips his head up. She giggles again, reaching out to touch his hair.

“You.” She whispers, fingernails running across his scalp.

They’ve been married for years, together for more, friends since forever, but his heart soars. He loves this, these moments, any moment with her. He loves their daughter, their little life, the things she writes.

He loves her. Fervently. Assuredly. Loudly. 

And he is so, so lucky she loves him back.

They share another kiss, smiling into each other. He glances at the clock.

“It’s midnight.”

She smiles wider.

“Merry Christmas, Colin.”

Another kiss.

“Merry Christmas, Pen.”