Chapter Text
Everybody wants you
Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you
Chapter 1: June 4, 2021
It was one of those days again. One of those days that seemed to just happen to Penelope every once in a while. A day where everything just went wrong for some reason or the other. She’d stubbed her toe while getting out of bed. She’d ruined her favourite white cardigan by washing it with a yellow jumpsuit, thus turning it yellow. She’d forgotten her wallet at home and only noticed after the taxi had arrived in front of Eloise’s building.
“God, I’m so sorry. I… Well… I seem to have forgotten my wallet," she mumbled while still pretending to frantically search her bag. She knew it wasn’t in there. Still, she couldn’t bear look at the taxi driver just yet. Her face was still flaming red and she really did not cherish seeing the disappointment and/or anger on his face. “Is there… My friend is upstairs. She’s expecting me. I can just run up and get some money from her?”
The cabbie only looked at her with a mixture of mild disappointment and boredom. Apparently she wasn’t the first person to do this to him today.
“Ask her to come down.”
“I… My phone’s dead. But I could leave my phone with you while I run upstairs? Is that..?”
She hadn’t even finished asking the question before he barked out a ‘yes’, she left her phone on the seat and scurried away, frantically pressing the button to Eloise’s apartment.
Every Friday night the ‘Terrible Three’, consisting of Eloise, Francesca (sisters) and Penelope (their friend), met up for dinner and a glass of wine. The Bridgerton sisters had met Penelope in college when they’d all shared a flat together.
The Friday night tradition had first started after Eloise, Francesca and Penelope had finished university and begrudgingly admitted that seeing your friends was much harder when one wasn’t living with them. So after crossed signals and four cancelled meetings the first few weeks into their first ‘grown up summer’ they’d decided that Fridays were sacred.
Now, four years later, the tradition was still going strong and although Phillip (Eloise’s fiancé) and Michael (Francesca’s boyfriend) would sometimes join them, they were on their own for the most part, just catching up and enjoying each others’ company.
Today was one of those Fridays and it was Eloise’s turn to host which led to the predicament Penelope currently found herself in.
She jumped from one foot to the other and shot the driver a few apologetic glances while waving into the camera monitoring the entrance to the apartment building and waiting for Eloise to open the door. What was taking her so long? She was just about to ring again when the door buzzed and she threw herself against it, nearly tripping on the way in.
She ran up the stairs to the third floor, internally berating herself once more for leaving her wallet at home, but stopped short in front of Eloise’s door. Usually El just left it open when she knew Penelope was coming up. Most days she was even already waiting in the hallway, a glass of wine in her hand and some story of how her boss mistreated her this week on her lips. But today it was closed.
Penelope frowned and tilted her head as she stood in front of the familiar apartment door. Something was different today.
She knocked once and waited as patiently as she possibly could (she hated having to inconvenience the poor taxi driver like that) but when the door didn’t open right away, she decided she’d had enough.
She pounded against it and yelled, “Eloise, let me in! I forgot my wallet and I need you to bail me out before the cabbie takes off with my phone.” Nothing. No sound. “ELOISE! Franny?”
She waited then, the sound of her own breath the only thing she heard and she was just about to slam her fist against the door once more when it suddenly opened.
And there he stood.
All curly brown hair and straight nose and perfect jawline and stunning green eyes.
Penelope had heard a lot about him. Of course she had. She worked at a tabloid (even if she hated it there and hardly anybody knew she was working there), she was friends with his sisters and quite frankly there was hardly anyone on this planet that did not know who Colin Bridgerton was.
He’d become famous six years ago when he’d starred in a rom-com about a girl who forgot her book on the subway and a guy (him) who made it his mission to find its owner. It’d been a nice, widely popular and incredibly successful film that had turned him into an overnight star and had jump started his rather prolific Hollywood career.
Still, she’d never actually met him. Well, that wasn’t true. She’d met him. Once. But she’d never actually talked to him.
“You must be Penelope," he said, sounding tired. He smiled politely, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and crossed his arms as he leaned against the open doorway. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt that stretched across his chest (something Penelope tried her best had not to notice), grey baggy sweatpants and white socks.
She looked at his socks as she said, “Yeah. Erm… I know who you are?”
She blushed. It sounded like a question. Of course she did.
“Are you asking me?”
He snorted and Penelope suppressed the urge to cover her cheeks with her hands.
She had heard the grin in his voice as he’d said it so she couldn’t help but look up. The last thing she needed on this day was to be made fun of by a Hollywood star.
But his grin wasn’t unkind. It was charming and sweet and the kind of grin he probably put on for a lot of people. But while before his eyes had been looking tired, they now shone with kindness and quiet understanding. The type of kindness and quiet understanding she’d seen him regard her with once before.
“Em… No. I obviously know who you are," she mumbled as soon as she’d jump-started her brain again. “Nice to meet you.”
She held out her hand, waiting for him to shake it. He looked at it slightly puzzled, arms still crossed and Penelope wondered whether what she was doing was just phenomenally weird and awkward and she was just about to pull it back and wait for the ground to swallow her up, when he let out a breath and laughed softly.
“Nice to meet you," he mumbled and took her hand. Firmly but not too firmly.
His hands were soft and Penelope stopped breathing for a second when he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand once, ever so softly, before releasing it. She was acutely aware of her heart hammering against her chest and for some reason the moment felt longer than it was. Bigger. Grander.
But then he let go and she pulled back her hand and drew a breath.
They stood there for a moment, him still leaning against the doorframe and her holding onto her purse as if her life depended on it, and they both didn’t speak. There was something incredibly awkward about the whole exchange. But at the same time, there wasn’t.
Penelope was usually the kind of person that just stumbled into these situations. The kind of person that wasn’t too secure in social interactions. The kind of person that could make the most mundane conversation take an awkward turn.
And while this conversation might have been terribly embarrassing with anyone else, it wasn’t with him. Something about him calmed her. Which was ludicrous, considering he was a movie star that usually made women anything but calm.
“So," he drawled, drawing out the ‘o’ sound and smiling at her kindly. “Weren’t you saying something about a taxi driver?”
“RIGHT!" Penelope yelled and hit the palm of her hand against her forehead. “had to take a cab today because I was so late. But then I forgot my wallet at home and the cabbie is waiting downstairs. I… This is terribly embarrassing. I usually have money with me, I promise. It’s just… I switched purses today because I accidentally dyed my favourite cardigan yellow and the purse and the cardigan just wouldn’t have matched and then somehow I must have left my wallet in my other purse and… anyway…. is there any way you could help me out? It’s about 30 pounds. I don’t know if… Do you have 30 pounds?”
“Do I have 30 pounds?" he asked. And the grin was back. The one that wasn’t unkind and wasn’t necessarily making fun of her. The one that looked as if he was genuinely interested and intrigued and amused by what she was saying. Even if she hadn’t necessarily meant for it to be funny. “Do I have 30 pounds?”
So she couldn’t help but grin back.
“Yes," Penelope repeated her statement. More slowly. Smiling the whole time. Feeling the smile in every single one of her 206 bones when he smiled back. “Do you have 30 pounds that you could lend me?”
“I think I do, in fact," he said then, clapping his hands once and turning around to walk back into the apartment and leaving her standing there.
She was still trying to calm her racing heart when he reappeared and held out his wallet to her.
“Here you go.”
She stared at it.
“You’re just handing me your wallet?" Penelope asked.
“Yeah, why not?”
“I could rob you.”
He looked at her then. Really looked at her. Then snorted.
“I think not.”
“You think not? That’s your answer? How thespian of you.”
He smirked then and she could feel it in her stomach.
She grabbed his wallet, careful not to touch him again (not because she didn’t want to but because… well… it was safer this way) and was just about to walk back down to pay the driver when she turned around and asked, “Why do you think not?”
He smiled then. Not a grin or a smirk but a smile. One that reached his eyes and made them impossibly greener.
“You’ve got kind eyes.”
Penelope blushed and hurried downstairs.
Ditto.
It was two hours later, after Eloise had met her downstairs and had apologised for not letting her in, after she’d explained that Colin had showed up on her doorstep today and had asked to stay with her, after she’d explained that he’d looked terrible and that she hadn’t had the heart to turn him away and after Penelope had waved her off saying that it all really hadn’t been that big of a deal, that they all sat around Eloise’s oval dining room table, glasses of red wine and empty plates in front of them.
Penelope hadn’t really talked much to Colin after she’d given him back his wallet with a promise of paying him back. He’d made a bit of a show of checking whether she’d actually robbed and she’d laughed and tried her best not to overdo it. But other than that, they hadn’t really spoken.
Their gazes had met here and there and they’d both laughed about the same jokes but overall, Eloise’s and Colin’s banter had been enough entertainment for Penelope and she hadn’t necessarily seen the need to contribute to their teasing.
Besides, she found that she really liked looking at Colin Bridgerton.
He really was more handsome in person than in any photos she’d seen of him. And she’d seen lots of photos.
The way he sat in the chair, the way he held himself, the way he unapologetically got pasta sauce all over his white shirt while eating. The way he ran his hand through his hair while sighing, the way he regarded his sisters with so much love, the way he listened to everyone’s stories as if they were the most interesting ones he’d ever heard.
All of that told her a lot about who he was. It fit into this idea she’d built of him. The idea of Colin Bridgerton that she’d created.
Of the man who led a seemingly perfect life in the US with his girlfriend and all the money in the world. The man who left London abruptly at the age of eighteen to become an actor. Who put himself through acting school and refused to take any of his family’s money. Who excelled at everything he tried. Who was loved deeply and missed dearly by his whole family on most holidays and in between but who never seemed quite happy at home.
Now that he was here Penelope understood what Eloise and Francesca had been talking about. There was a certain sadness to him. A sadness she hadn’t ever seen in any of the photos in the magazines. He was known for being charming, good-looking, funny and happy-go-lucky. This - the shadow in his eyes he tried to hide but that shone through whenever he thought no one was looking - this wasn’t in any of the pictures or videos she’d seen. This was new.
Francesca, who’d arrived twenty minutes late, as usual, was the first one to notice how quiet she was.
“Is this the first time you’ve met?" she asked, glancing at Colin who was currently teasing Eloise about her hair.
“Yes," she said even though that wasn’t entirely true.
“He’s really sweet, you know?" Francesca said and looked at her brother fondly. “Not like your typical conceited Hollywood star.”
Penelope only smiled. She never, for one second, would have believed Colin Bridgerton to be conceited or arrogant. Not only because of the way his whole family talked about him, not only because of the way he’d treated her today, but because of the way he’d treated her seven years ago. The first time they’d met.
Eloise and she had just met at university not long ago when she’d invited Penelope to some party her older brother Benedict was throwing. Penelope had always felt out of place at parties, her awkward nature shining through even more than it did in everyday life, but Eloise had been a new friend and she had badly needed one which is why she’s agreed to go.
Once there Eloise had quickly abandoned her (in her defence, that was the party where she’d met her fiancé Phillip) and so Penelope had stood to the side, staring awkwardly at her drink and avoiding looking at anyone.
That was until a few girls had made their way across the room and had started talking to her.
Penelope didn’t really remember much of the conversation. Only the feeling of it. How she felt ashamed. Of the fact that they were making fun of her for the outfit she was wearing. Of her body shape. Of her hair. Of the way she presented herself. Not outright. But between the lines. And Penelope had wanted nothing more than to flee the scene when Colin Bridgerton had come in to save her.
He’d taken one look at her and had seen that she was miserable so he’d complimented her for her outfit (specifically mentioning that he loved her cardigan), had grabbed her hand and pulled her away towards the bar that had been set up in Benedict’s apartment.
She would’ve talked to him more then. She knew that she would have. If there hadn’t been a loud crash and he’d looked at her apologetically before leaving to investigate. They’d seen each other once more at that party. But she preferred not to think about it.
Still, she never forgot about that meeting. Never forgot that he’d been kind to her before everyone had known who he was. Before he had known she was friends with his sister. Before both of their lives had changed drastically.
Penelope was brought out of her reverie by Eloise’s phone ringing and her looking at it, frowning and hurrying out of the room.
“Were you two talking about me?" Colin asked as he took a sip of his red wine and leaned back in his chair. He seemed a bit more relaxed now.
Penelope only looked at him, eyebrows raised.
“Do you always think people in a room must talk about you?" she asked and he laughed. A beautiful sound made even more beautiful by the fact that she was the one who’d made him laugh like that.
“I just told her what a pain in the ass you are," Francesca teased.
“No, she didn’t," Penelope smiled warmly. She didn’t want him to think badly of his sister. Francesca would never. “She said you’re sweet. And I might have to agree.”
“You might have to?" Colin asked. Another smile that reached his eyes. “How come?”
“You have kind eyes," she answered and there was a tense silence that stretched between them for a few seconds before she added, “And you also lent me 30 pounds.”
He laughed again then, and for some reason he seemed to hold her gaze a moment longer than strictly necessary.
Before either of them could say anything, Eloise burst back into the room.
“Pen, I’m so sorry. I can’t take you to Ikea tomorrow. I’m really… ugh. Phillip’s brother’s in hospital and he’s asked me to come with him to Norwich. I couldn’t really say no. It’s his brother. I’m so sorry. We can go any other weekend. I promise.”
Penelope could feel a stab of disappointment. She wasn’t really looking forward to spending another week sleeping on a mattress on the floor.
She’d just moved into a new apartment since her sister Felicity, who had previously lived with her, had started university in Scotland on a full scholarship. Now that she didn’t have to feed two mouths anymore, she could afford an apartment in a nicer part of town.
“Yes, of course. It’s no big deal. It’s fine," she reached across the table to take her friend’s hand. “Is he ok? George?”
“He was in some kind of accident but it’s not life-threatening.”
“Ok, good. It’s fine. I can just go to Ikea another time. It’s no big deal.”
Penelope sat back, taking a sip of the wine and trying to quell the selfish disappointment bubbling up inside her when she heard Colin say, “I can take you.”
“What?" she said and coughed once to cover up the squeakiness of her voice.
“I have a rental car for the duration of my stay. I can take you.”
Eloise and Francesca looked between the two of them.
“I… That’s not really… You don’t have to…”
“I’d love to," he added, looking slightly sheepish now. “I kind of came here on a whim and I’ve got little to do for the next week so… I mean… I can take you.”
“Are you sure?" Penelope asked. “I’m only really going there to pick up a bed. That’s all I need.”
“Yeah, of course. That’s fine. We can do that.”
He smiled at her, then, in a way that made her absolutely certain that there was nothing in the world she wouldn’t do for him if he asked.
“Ok. That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”
She looked down at her hands fidgeting in her lap.
“You’re welcome.”
And she could hear the damn grin in his voice again. And once again she couldn’t help but look up. And when the smile actually reached his eyes and her heart skipped a beat, she knew she was in trouble.