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English
Series:
Part 1 of You call it madness, but I call it love
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Non-canon pairings, The Bridgerton Collection
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Published:
2021-03-09
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1,793
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1/1
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68
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948
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Sweet, like honey

Summary:

Colin Bridgerton isn’t as oblivious as the ton made him out to be. Hidden below the charm, the smiles and the flirting was a highly perceptive man. A man who may not know the secrets of the world, but certainly knew women. And he knew the woman that stands before him, as god was his witness - and the church they were about to make the short travel to would attest - he knew Penelope. He knew of the love she bore for him, and yet here he was. 

Watching as she readied for her wedding day. To his brother.   

Notes:

Ever since I watched the TV show I have this crack ship floating around in my head of Benedict and Penelope, only because TV Benedict turned out to be so much better than book Benedict.

However, this little one-shot still turned into a Polin angst filled fest.... I have no excuses.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Is it payback then?” 

 

Penelope turns slowly, not expecting to hear his voice today. 

 

Of all days. 

 

“Colin?” She remarks, her face stretched in a smile but something akin to panic rises in her chest. “You’re here?” 

 

The boy she loved for most of her adolescence and adult life - leans against Eloise’ door in all his handsome glory. His trademark crooked grin gives little away, but the subtle set of his jaw and the glint in his eye is telling enough. 

 

Colin Bridgerton isn’t as oblivious as the ton made him out to be. Hidden below the charm, the smiles and the flirting was a highly perceptive man. A man who may not know the secrets of the world, but certainly knew women. 

 

And he knew the woman that stands before him, as god was his witness - and the church they were about to make the short travel to would attest - he knew Penelope. He knew of the love she bore for him, and yet here he was. 

 

Watching as she readied for her wedding day. 

 

To his brother.   

 

“Is it payback then?” Colin repeats, pushing himself off the door and moving in. It isn’t decorous, for him to stand in a room alone with her, with a bed only ten feet away. But she’s engaged.

 

To his brother . 

 

So, to hell with decorum. 

 

Penelope visibly swallows as she replies a shaky, “Payback? Payback for what Colin?” 

 

He smiles, slow, deliberate and to anyone who wouldn’t know him well, cruelly. He’s so close to her he can smell the lilies on her skin and something else, something much much sweeter. Honey , yes it’s honey, he confirms internally. She’s never smelt of honey before. 

 

“I’m certainly not going to marry Penelope Featherington.” He mocks, imitating the exasperation in his tone from years ago. Instantly, Penelope’s head snaps up, her eyes wide and cloudy. And for a second Colin falters, seeing the hurt the words caused etched across her face. 

 

Her lovely, beautiful, duplicitous face. 

 

“I remember you said something about not marrying Benedict in response to my callous statement, and how that doesn’t hurt him. Or something of the sort, do you remember Pen?” His use of her shortened name is purposeful. 

 

A non-committal sound escapes her mouth as she braces her shoulder and nods. “I remember that day to the last detail Colin. One rarely forgets the day they hear such an exclamation on their person.” 

 

Her response unnerves him, but he pushes it aside. He’s here to say his peace, because it’s the last chance he’ll get. 

 

“And now you’re marrying Benedict.” He says

 

“And now I’m marrying Benedict.” She repeats resolutely. 

 

“Payback then?” Colin brings it back in one fell swoop, moving even closer. 

 

“Payback for what Colin?” Penelope exclaims, attempting to take a step back only to be pulled, quite violently she might add, right into Colin’s chest. 

 

And suddenly, the suave, almost lazy tone to Colin dissapears, to be replaced with pure mania. 

 

“For saying those words. For Marina, for leaving, for not being the bridgerton brother who asked you to marry him.” Colin spits out like venom. His hand clasped tightly on her arm trembles. His lips tremble as he says the words. 

 

His whole body seems to shake. And Penelope reels, in shock, in despair, in the utter utter tragedy that is her life. Behind his spiteful words and cold voice, is a man in pain. Shy, unremarkable wallflower as she may have been, but she knew this man better than she knew her own mind. And yet, she had absolutely no idea why he was saying these things, things he'd never said before. 

 

But they'd always been left unsaid, known but never spoken of. Like her love for him, and his polite disregard in response. 

 

“Colin, why are you saying these things?” Now. Now that she had finally gotten over him. Now that she was marrying a warm, wonderful, real man - not a mirage in the desert.  

 

“I had other words to say Penelope, many many words, of adoration, of joy and of regret. But you’ve stolen those words from me, and instead you’ve left this.” He shrugs, “This hollow, empty chaos.” 

 

“So these are the only words you get from me.” He adds in finality, low and deep. His face lowers, her breath fanning across his chin, the heat of her penetrating his clothes, his heart, his soul. 

 

And he wonders, and wonders and wonders what the penance will be for kissing her. Will god smite him the second he steps foot into the church, or will Benedict put him in the ground?  

 

No it isn’t like Benedict to fight. That’s more Anthony’s domain. 

 

The most likely outcome will be that he won’t be able to live with himself. His heart, and something baser, something animalistic, says to hell with the penance. He’ll never get to hold her again. He might as well hold her tight. 

 

“Don’t.” She warns, answering his internal struggle with one word and a searing look. A look that tells him that as much as she’d enjoy his kiss; she’ll scream, she’ll fight and she’ll riot at his unwanted attentions. 

 

Because the Penelope that stood before him wasn’t the Penelope he knew. Or, perhaps, he’d been too slow to see the real woman - flawed, fierce and prideful - in the shy wallflower. 

 

“Let me go, Colin.” She asks softly, tilting her head and the sweet, kind lovely Penelope is back. 

 

“I suppose I’ll have to.” He acts only in words. And before he knows it, before he’s even aware, he’s whispering desperately, “Why didn’t you wait?”  

 

Penelope has had enough. She wrenches herself away from him and pushes her small hands on his chest, her heart aflame and her temper raging. 

 

How dare he? How dare he walk in after years and ask why she dared to find some happiness in her life? How dare he say things he’s never said before - Marina, the incident, her unrelenting love for him. 

 

“You have no right.” She declares, tall and proud - despite her diminutive stature, “You think me some pathetic creature, waiting by the window’s for you to realize I’m not a plump, ugly duckling that doesn’t deserve your attention.” 

 

“I have never thought that of you and you know it.” He declared right back, attempting to hold her hand again but she brushes it off and continues her tirade. 

 

“Why didn’t I wait?” She all but screams, “Why didn’t you come to your senses earlier? Why’d you overlook me, why’d you say those words, why’d you fall in love with Marina? Why’d you leave every single time we had a connection Colin?” 

 

He laughs, and it’s nothing like the one’s she’s used to, “Because my dear,” she can’t help the small gasp that escapes her at that endearement, “We all know I’m the fool. Travelling across the world looking for my anchor while it’s been standing right in front of me this whole time. But you, you, my sweet, beautiful, wonderful Penelope - you weren’t to give up on us. On me . Why did you?” 

 

“Because there’s only so much a heart can take Colin. Benedict was here; he was kind, he was sweet and he saw more. More than I never did. More than you ever did. In a world that told me I’d always be alone, he made me believe that I wouldn’t be - that I could have something that was mine; a husband, a house, a family, because I deserved it. That is why I didn’t wait.” 

 

He stares at her, and he doesn’t care anymore that he’s crying, that his spiteful, dark mask has slipped and instead a vulnerable, regretful, broken Colin stands in front of her. It seems, two hearts would break today. 

 

“Do you love him?” 

 

“Yes.” She lies. 

 

“Does he love you?” 

 

She falters. 

 

She’s gotten to know Benedict well enough in the past year to know that he cares deeply for her, and would throw himself in front of a moving carriage to save her. But love her? She wasn’t sure. He’d said it himself, if there was ever a woman he could love, it’d be her. 

 

And it was enough for Penelope. It shouldn’t be. But it was. 

 

Colin knows, his brows furrow in realization. Of course he knows, he’s his brother after all. He takes measured steps towards her and before she knows it his hands are in her hair and his mouth is on hers.

 

Honey; warm, melted, delectable sweetness is the first thing Colin tastes. He should have known she would taste like a desert, made just for him. He ignores her small protest and slants his lips over hers, sighing into her mouth when she relaxes and cups his cheek. He kisses her with all the love and adoration he didn’t have the chance to show her, all the promises he didn’t get to make to her, and with all the sorrow that now fills his being. He’ll remember every second of this kiss and carry it with him till the day he died. 

 

She lets out a small cry as she kisses him back, expertly licking his lips and trapping his lower lip between hers. The knowledge that she knows how to kiss, so sweetly, so ardently that it makes him loose his damn mind, is enough to have him rearing back. But he goes back in for one last kiss, hard rough and unkept until he tastes salt and pulls back. 

 

He’s lost, and it’s his own damn fault. But he’ll be damned if she suffers too. 

 

“He’d be a fool not to love you Pen. And we all know, Benedict is no fool.” 

 

Colin leaves once again, he knows it's different this time, and so does his family. But not before he watches Benedict marry Penelope. She shines like a star, and Benedict looks so much like their father it makes him want to double over in pain. But he weathers through it, every time Anthony looks at him in concern Colin smiles; big and bright. He won’t be ruining this day. If there’s anyone in this world who deserves happiness its Penelope - and he’s done enough to hurt her. He stays, and dances with his sisters and his mother and his sister-in laws. He eats and laughs and thumps the groom on the back and threatens to ruin him if he hurts Pen and ignores the sad look Benedict throws at him. 

 

Finally, finally when the happy couple leave for their wedding night, so does Colin. He says his goodbyes and leaves England. 

 

Earlier, he dreaded coming back without having found his purpose in life, his anchor. Now he dreads coming back knowing his anchor secures another. 

Notes:

Slightly terrible or completely terrible?

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