Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - Sparks

From Afar - Vance Joy 

You light me up across the room
Two falling sparks, one willing fool
And I, I always knew
That I would love you from afar

Penelope 11 | Colin 13

On her first day at a new school, Penelope Featherington walked to the back of the classroom and took the spare seat next to a rather unapproachable-looking brown-haired girl. 

To Penelope’s surprise, Eloise Bridgerton introduced herself in a manner beyond her years, but entirely in keeping with her intimidating aura. 

However, it didn’t take long for the two girls to understand that they were both society outsiders armed with books and brains. ‘Society’ being the year seven girls that Penelope and Eloise had labelled ‘The Debutantes’ – a nod to old money and a lack of ability to think about anything beyond the opposite sex – when Eloise had declared that ‘having a nice face and pleasant hair is not an accomplishment.’

Penelope had agreed, but where Eloise was an outsider by wilful choice and an abhorrence for anything considered normal, Penelope was an outsider simply because she was a wallflower. 

Quiet and reserved, born into a family louder than was reasonable, Penelope had learned at a very young age to shrink herself – ironic given her diminutive stature – and to always be agreeable. 

Eloise was outspoken, forthright, and fiercely defended Penelope against the likes of Cressida Cowper and Clara Livingston. 

A perfect match of opposites. 

This was how it came to be that on the sixth of April, two days shy of her twelfth birthday, Penelope Featherington crossed the threshold of the wisteria-clad mansion in the heart of Mayfair. 

Bridgerton House had high vaulted ceilings and a grand staircase that made her feel much smaller than she already was. She half-expected armed guards or actual royalty to walk through. 

Staring up at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts, she stumbled into a table in the middle of the hallway, causing a giant vase to wobble. She stared, wide-eyed, as it began to topple. Reaching out to break its fall – a futile attempt given her short arms – she’d been saved at the last second. Eloise caught the ornate decoration mid-air before placing it back gently on the table. 

Or so she thought.

“It’s a nuisance that’s there really,” a boy said, flashing a dazzlingly cheeky grin. “How's anyone supposed to stare at the ceiling and wander around in peace?”

Stunned, Penelope had been rendered momentarily mute. The boy in front of her was decidedly not Eloise. Only then did she realise her new friend had walked off. 

The boy, clearly Eloise’s older brother, was teasing her, utterly unfazed by the near disaster. 

“I’m Colin, I live here. What’s your name?” he said, running a hand through his wavy chestnut hair as if in slow motion. 

“I– I’m Penelope.” 

“Hello, Penelope. What a lovely name. You must be El’s friend.”

“Y-yes. Sorry… I was just looking. I didn’t mean to break anything.” 

“No need to be sorry, you didn’t break anything. Nothing happened here.” 

Colin smiled at her, his denim eyes bright, and it lit up the whole room. She blushed fiercely. Older boys never talked to her, and they certainly never smiled at her. Quite simply, he was the nicest boy she’d ever met. 

It was in that moment, at eleven years old, that Penelope Featherington fell in love with the boy across the square.

🪶🪶🪶

Penelope 15 | Colin 17

Colin Bridgerton still mesmerised her. Because that’s all it was, right? An infatuation. Of course she hadn’t fallen in love four years ago. 

That would be ridiculous. 

Right? 

Certainly it wasn’t something she spent a lot of time thinking about. Not at all. Only when she was in his company. Which happened to be quite often, given that Eloise was her best friend, and Penelope preferred spending as little time at the Featherington household as was reasonable. 

Home was… fine. When asked, that’s what she said. Fine. 

Violet Bridgerton would ask after her mother or how things were at home, and Penelope would say ‘fine’, avoiding the matriarch's gaze seeking more than a monosyllabic response. But that’s all she could offer.

Home wasn’t bad. 

But… 

Her mother was caustic, her father avoidant, her sisters scathing. 

She was provided for, attended a good school, and her parents were interested in her whereabouts.

But… 

She’d never quite felt wanted. 

Not like this. 

With the Bridgertons she wasn’t an afterthought. Her mother had wanted to visit their extended family in Ireland for the festive season, but Eloise had asked Violet if Penelope could join them for Christmas and New Year, insisting it was imperative for her own mental wellbeing. Eloise couldn’t bear to spend another Christmas locked up with seven siblings when not a single one of them knew anything about Russian literature. It would be cruel. 

Violet, ever the peacekeeper, had no other choice than to oblige with an indulgent, “Of course, dear.” 

Portia Featherington had been almost buoyant when Penelope asked, delighted to save on the extra airfare and for Penelope to spend time with her ‘precious Bridgertons.’  

Two weeks later, a few months away from her sixteenth birthday, Colin and Eloise had her doing Christmas carpool karaoke in the back seat of Anthony’s car as he drove them to Aubrey Hall. 

Christmas with the Bridgertons was chaos and comfort. Talking, laughing, baking, eating, playing games… and feeling, for once, almost entirely at ease. 

The kind of ease that came so naturally to them, but felt hard-earned for her. 

Unequivocally, it was the best Christmas ever. With her best friend and the boy who was rapidly becoming her favourite person. Not that she would ever let Eloise find that out.  

Somehow, in amongst movie nights, homework, and Colin walking Penelope home across the square, Colin and Penelope had become friends.

And that was all it was – an unlikely friendship with a side of purely inquisitive fascination. On Penelope's part anyway. 

Because truly, it was fascinating to witness his growth spurt that had stretched him out into a gangly, endearing mess of limbs and floppy hair. And then to see that morph with the broadening of his shoulders and the acquisition of muscle mass that, from a purely scientific perspective, was impressive. 

Even his walk was impressive, she thought as Colin approached her, bundled up in a puffer jacket, crunching through the snow. 

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” he whispered, a conspiratorial glint in his eye as he handed her a bottle of beer he’d snuck away from the party.  

Colin had always been kind and cheeky, with a healthy disregard for the rules. Of course he’d brought her her first drink. 

Penelope smiled at him, unclear if it was the cold or the cut of his jaw that made the air burn in her lungs.

Taking a sip of the bitter amber liquid, the bubbles caught in her nose, causing her to cough and splutter.

“Shit, Pen.” Colin patted her back, trying to suppress his laughter. “Are you alright?” 

She nodded vigorously, trying to control the spluttering as she caught her breath. 

When her choking fit subsided and he seemed satisfied that she was breathing normally, he joined her on the bench. They leaned back, looking up at the sky, counting stars and breathing in sync. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah.”

“You’re thinking.” It wasn’t a question. He just knew. 

“I’m thinking,” she confirmed. 

She’d needed some fresh air and space from the New Year’s Eve party inside, but hadn’t anticipated the risk of frostbite.

“About?”

“Everything.” 

“Of course.” Colin chuckled softly. “You know… this is where I come to think.”

“Oh. Sorry. I can go…” Penelope stood abruptly.

“No, no–” Colin grabbed her arm, pulling her to sit back down. “Wait. Stay. I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“Okay.” She sat back down. “This one is a lot quieter. Everyone seems to go to the other benches–”

“–by dad’s grave?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. I prefer this one,” he said.

“Me too.”

The bench was situated at the edge of the property next to a huge willow tree, looking out over the fields, providing shelter when the sun was out or when she needed a moment alone.  

“God it’s cold,” Colin said, rubbing his thighs, trying to warm them. 

Penelope decided it was in everyone’s best interest not to think too hard about Colin’s thighs. 

Looking away, she exhaled slowly. “I think this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile and nod. “Best Christmas ever,” he echoed.

Silence settled, their icy breath swirling between them. It was far too cold to stay out much longer and his nose was turning pink. 

“I’m going to miss you.” 

It felt warmer when he said things like that. 

She nodded, her eyes stinging, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, burying her face into her scarf. 

“Sorry if that’s too much.” 

She chanced a glimpse at him and he was staring out into the darkness of the vast landscape ahead of them. 

It’s not enough, she thought.

But he was older than her, about to turn eighteen. His life was just about to open up. Hers was still waiting to begin. 

And he wouldn’t be interested in her anyway. 

Colin turned toward her, draping an arm along the back of the bench, his fingers stretching toward her, but never quite making contact. 

“Uni feels like a big deal.” There was something fragile behind his eyes. 

“It’s months away, Colin, you’ve got time,” she said, sipping her beer. Maybe she was trying to reassure herself as much as him.  

One short, exasperated laugh escaped him. “It’s never enough time,” he muttered. Maybe he didn’t want her to hear him, but she did.  

Never enough time for what? 

She couldn’t bring herself to ask.

“We better go in.” He got up and offered his hand. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“Can’t miss the start of the year that changes your life, Colin Bridgerton!” she teased, rising to her feet and watching him as she downed the rest of her beer. It did not taste good. 

“Easy, Featherington, go slow.” He laughed, holding her gaze, his brows pulling together as he shoved his hands in his pockets.  “What if I don’t want things to change?”

She cocked her head, and not for the first time, tried to read his mind. 

“I’m not sure you can stop it. Change is inevitable.” 

They stood facing each other, the sound of the party filtering out of the house. He looked at her intently, his mouth opening and closing several times.

Hugging herself to stay warm and starting to feel the weight of the silence, she said, “My feet are freezing. Let’s go join your family.” 

Colin nodded and they made their way inside. He held the door open for her, his hand resting gently on her lower back to usher her in. Even through her coat, she felt the warmth he left behind, a heat that made her feel light-headed. 

Maybe it was the beer.

They reached the rest of his family just in time for the countdown to midnight. To her surprise and delight, Colin found her hand as they all counted, the whole party raising their glasses and shouting numbers – Hyacinth and Gregory ‘harmonising’. 

When the clock struck midnight, he leaned in to kiss her cheek just as she turned to hug him, and he accidentally caught the edge of her lips.

Her breath caught in her throat. 

“Happy New Year, Pen,” he said, voice low.

She searched his eyes, a thousand questions racing through her mind, but only one that really mattered. 

Eloise bundled into Penelope, knocking both the air from her lungs and Colin’s hand from hers as Violet wrapped him in a hug. 

Penelope joined in the chorus of New Year greetings, the Bridgertons at their effervescent best, more hugs and kisses being exchanged than she’d ever seen in her life.

All the while she kept catching Colin’s eye.  

Okay. 

Maybe it was more than an infatuation. 

🪶🪶🪶

“I’ll take these to the kitchen, then we could go for a walk?” Colin said, pinching a leftover roast potato from her plate before adding it to the stack in front of him.

Penelope nodded, looking out of the window to see the New Year’s day sun dipping, painting the sky with pinks and oranges. It wasn’t like she could refuse him. 

“Excellent. Meet me at the back door in ten,” he whispered.

Successfully dodging Eloise’s request to play post-lunch scrabble, Penelope wrapped up warm, joined Colin and headed out to make the most of the snow. When they had walked far enough, they lay in the field making snow angels before it would inevitably melt away. 

Just like the time they had left at Aubrey. 

“Do you remember when you came to see me and Eloise in Peter Pan at school?” Penelope asked, starfished in the snow.

“Random,” Colin replied. “But, yes. You were a very cute Tinker Bell. Perfect, actually.”

He sounded almost wistful. His capacity for nostalgia was charming.  

"All you need is one happy thought, Peter. Just one happy thought and it will make you fly,” he quoted in a high-pitched voice, imitating Penelope and flapping his arms wildly in the snow, pretending to be Tinker Bell. “You had my heart that night, Pen. Just like Peter,” he teased, thumping his chest twice for dramatic effect. 

She loved when he was cheeky with her, making the butterflies in her stomach go a million miles an hour. She swatted his arm as he laughed, muttering something under his breath she couldn’t quite hear. 

“Okay, stop,” she giggled. “Don’t be ridiculous, I was thirteen.” 

“So?” 

She scoffed, trying to ignore her heart thudding against her ribs. “Wendy has Peter's heart, anyway.” 

“Nah. Lies. It all comes back to Tink. Or at least it should,” he said as he accidentally brushed his gloved hand over hers. Even through the barrier, electricity sparked up her arm.

“Hmmm. Anyway,” she murmured, unsure what to make of what he was saying. She heard him sigh. “I was actually thinking about after the play. When you came to find us backstage and my mum was there.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah. She was fussing over me, not in a good way. Trying to fix my hair, and wipe the glitter off my face, telling me I should’ve smiled more when I was flying,” she said, not daring to look over at him.

“Yes. I remember.” 

“And you said, ‘Well, I thought she was brilliant. I believe in fairies because of Pen.’” 

He turned to her, smiling his crooked smile. “I meant it.” 

“It was silly, but you stood up for me. To my mum. No one’s ever done that for me before.” 

The words hung heavy between them. She hoped he’d think her blush was a product of the cold air. She wondered if that was why his ears were red. 

“I will always stand up for you, Pen, I–” He hesitated, scrunching his forehead and looking away. 

“You…?”

Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “The glitter was cute anyway, I have no idea why Portia was trying to clean it off your face. Glitter every day, all day, if you ask me.” 

They both laughed, just as Eloise came crashing in, flopping between them, sending snow flying everywhere and starting a snowball fight. 

The moment had well and truly passed. 

Evaporating like their breath in the cold air. 

And the next day, they all went home. 

🪶🪶🪶

Thursday 1st January 2015, 11:47 pm

Colin: Are you up?

Pen: Maybe… 

Colin: I’m hungry…

Pen: Aren’t you always?

Colin: I’m a growing boy, Penelope.

Pen: 🤭

Colin: Cookies and milk? Meet me in the kitchen?

Pen: 🙄

Colin: Is that a yes???

Pen: You know I can’t say no to cookies…

Colin: or me… 😏

Pen: you wish…

Colin: …

Pen: ???

Colin: see you in the kitchen 🍪🥛

Pen: 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

🪶🪶🪶