Colin tried to sleep but he was lost in his inner thoughts. Seeing her, at night, so beautiful and dreamy. Her lips, her body, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
He tries to remember how it felt to touch her, the softness of her skin. Her breath close to his. He's full of desire for her. He always wants to be close to her. Now she feels so close and so far away. He wanted so much to touch her, to kiss her.
Why he can't stop thinking about it? Why he couldn't do the only one thing that feels right to him?
He was hurt. And even if he feels ashamed of himself, he can't deny he wanted to hurt her too.
Her words suprised him. And making him come back to the room. She looks so pretty. She's talking but she's not really looking at him. It takes him a moment to understand what she's saying.
Her voice sounds sad, distant. He wanted to punish her. Making her feel sad. But now, he doesn't recognise himself through that feelings.
Before he can even get up she's gone. His body feels attached to her. The room feels so empty now.
She said something of him not wanting to be close to her. She doesn't know?
He follows her, he doesn't know why. Honestly, that's not true, he knows why. Because his body feels more at easy close to hers. Because everytime she goes away he feels his heart goes tight and he cannot breath. He miss her so much when she's not there. Life without her it's not a life. He feels like he's dead inside.
Maybe is his fault. He wanted to punish her. But why doesn't feel right? He's angry with her. But he's more angry with himself.
Perhaps he can try to write. Through words his feelings came more easy to the surface. But lately his words don't feel 'his' anymore. It was possible he was a little jealous of her. He needs to find an answer.
Penelope letters were the reason because he started to write. Everytime he read a letter from her, life felt more easy, more peaceful, more vibrant.
He couldn't stop himself to connect this feelings with his words. Words came a place to being his true self. So, he could find a purpose. A better version of himself. Pen made him believe he could be a better man. The man he wanted to be for her.
He recognises her letters. The first time he read it. The way he missed them whe she stopped to write to him.
He remembers the warm she made him feel. Her letters made him feel close to home. She was his home. She's his home. It's always being her, sweet and kind. But at the same time smart, sassy and funny. That's her. That's his Pen. The Penelope he always loved. He can recognise her now. He can hear her voice through her letters. And she always was her. Lady Whistledown, Penelope Featherington. They were the same. Both were his Pen.
discoholicmusic
blakekathryn
areudirty
dailybridgerton
germansingergirl
jacobvanloon
baratheonpilled
stormborns
janainaart
