Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Caught in the Downpour
The airport lounge hummed with travellers’ voices, softened by the dimming light outside as storm clouds gathered. Colin’s shoulders ached from a long day of chaperoning a school trip, and all he wanted was a quiet place to sit. He scanned the crowded lounge and was about to give up when he saw her.
For a second, he hesitated. Surely, it wasn’t her—it couldn’t be. Twenty years had passed. But then she lifted her coffee to her lips, a faint smile playing on her face, her eyes focused somewhere far off. The thoughtful gaze, the way she cradled the cup in her hands—yes, it was undeniably Penelope.
Colin’s heart thudded, and he swallowed, feeling like he was 17 again. Before he could talk himself out of it, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "Penelope?" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
She looked up, and the faintest gasp escaped her. Her green eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief melting into recognition as memories flooded back. "Colin?" Her voice held a note of wonder, as if she, too, were afraid this might be a dream.
He chuckled, trying to hide his own nerves. "You... look exactly the same," he said, his smile turning into a grin. "Or maybe a bit different. More grown-up, I guess."
She laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Well, it has been two decades. I was hoping I'd aged a little bit." She gestured to the seat beside her. "Join me?"
He slid into the seat, studying her with a curious smile. "Twenty years. Can you believe it?"
"I know," she murmured, shaking her head. "It’s like another lifetime. I never thought I’d see you again." She stirred her coffee, looking down at it for a moment before glancing back up at him. "You’re still in London?"
"Yeah, teaching at my old school, actually. Though I’m not sure how much longer—kids these days know more than I do, I think." He shrugged with a self-deprecating smile. "And you? Still writing?"
She nodded, a light flickering in her eyes. "I am. Writing mostly novels now. The dream, I suppose." She paused, then added softly, "You were right. I’d never have forgiven myself if I hadn’t tried."
He felt a pang of something he couldn't quite name, something wistful, and nodded slowly. "I always knew you’d make it. You were never one to give up."
There was a silence between them, not awkward, but laden with memories. Then he broke it, tilting his head to study her more closely. "Remember that time we snuck into the library after hours?"
She grinned, her face lighting up. "To read by flashlight because you swore the ghost of Mr. Whittaker was haunting it?"
"Hey, I saw something that night," he defended, his laughter infectious. "Could have been a ghost!"
"Or a raccoon," she countered, eyes twinkling.
They both laughed, and the years felt like they’d shrunk into nothing. He leaned back, still smiling, and looked at her, wondering if she felt it too—the pull, the familiar spark.
"What about Marina?" Penelope asked gently, her eyes searching his. "You two… Married? Kids?"
Colin looked down, feeling a wave of embarrassment. "No, oh god, no," he admitted, chuckling a little to hide the sting. "You were right about her, by the way."
Penelope’s eyebrows lifted. She hadn’t expected that. "I was?"
He nodded, the memories surfacing like unwelcome ghosts. "You warned me she wasn't who everyone thought she was. I brushed it off, told you you were just… I don’t know, jealous or something. Turned out you were spot-on. She was seeing someone else." He shook his head, feeling a familiar pang. "I never did settle down. Guess I... never really found the right person." His gaze softened as he looked at her. "And you? Married, dating?"
She shook her head, her expression turning sombre. "I was, for a while. But it wasn’t… what I hoped it would be." She shrugged, though he could see the sadness in her eyes. "After that, it was just me and my writing."
Of course, he knew that. Even though they hadn’t spoken in years, he’d always kept tabs on her life. He knew about the whirlwind wedding to some guy who was, according to one interview, a vegan environmentalist, the kind of person who wouldn’t hurt any animal, wouldn't even step on an ant. She’d married him at 23, just as her career had started taking off. At 25, her debut novel became a bestseller, turning her into a household name almost overnight. But soon after, her marriage imploded, all over the tabloids—her husband’s affair, the public divorce, the headlines that tried to pick apart her life. Her husband was committed enough to not hurt any living being, but maybe he forgot to add Penelope's name in that list.
"You must have been through a lot," he said softly, choosing his words carefully. "I followed your career, you know. Always kept up with your books. It felt like… you were still there, somehow."
Penelope’s lips curled into a faint smile, touched by his words. "I guess I always thought of you too," she replied, her voice just above a whisper. "Wondered if you were happy."
They sat there, the sounds of the airport fading around them as a quiet understanding settled between them. The years had changed them, but something was still there, something familiar and unmistakable.
Colin’s mind drifted back to the first time he met Penelope. They were just kids then, She—barely nine years old, he was ten, playing at the community park on a warm spring afternoon. He remembered how he’d been minding his own business, feeding the ducks near the pond, when out of nowhere, a whirlwind of red hair and freckles came barreling toward him.
Penelope had been chasing a butterfly, her eyes bright with determination as she tried to catch it. Before he could react, she collided with him, and they both tumbled onto the grass in a tangle of limbs and laughter. She was a little wild back then—scraped knees, dirt-smudged cheeks, and that vibrant red hair flying every which way. He remembered blinking up at the sky, his breath knocked out of him, only to see her hovering over him, her eyes wide with horror.
“Oh no!” she’d exclaimed, scrambling up. “I missed it! It was the prettiest butterfly I’d ever seen!” She sounded so heartbroken that he almost wanted to laugh, but instead, he found himself reaching for her hand.
“It’ll come back,” he told her confidently. “Or we can find a new one.”
Her face softened as she looked at him, still upset but with a flicker of hope in her eyes. “Promise?”
He nodded without a second thought. “Promise.”
From that moment on, they’d been inseparable. The freckled, wild redhead who had almost cried over a butterfly became his best friend. She’d taught him about patience and wonder, and, for the first time, he realised that sometimes the best things in life weren’t the ones you could catch or hold—they were the ones you chased together.
Sitting in the airport lounge now, he felt the same pang of warmth and familiarity. That little girl, so full of wonder, still lingered in Penelope’s eyes even now.
As Penelope sat across from Colin, her mind drifted back to the painful day their friendship ended. She was 16, and Colin had just started dating Marina, the girl everyone seemed to warn him about. It wasn’t that Penelope disliked her, but she could see what Colin couldn’t—that Marina was using him, more interested in the popularity he brought than in him.
Penelope had tried to talk to him, standing there on the cracked sidewalk outside his house, desperation making her voice shake. "Colin, please, I’m telling you, she’s not who you think she is. She’s... she’s only with you because of how everyone looks up to you. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Colin had stared at her, his jaw clenched. "Why do you care so much, Pen? Are you really that worried about me, or is it something else?"
Her heart sank, but she pushed on, her voice almost breaking. "You know why I care. I’m your best friend. I can see it when she’s with other guys...”
But he only laughed, a hollow, humourless sound. “Oh, I see. So that’s what this is about.” He stepped closer, his voice almost taunting. “Admit it, Pen. You’re jealous, aren’t you? You just can’t stand that I might like someone else.”
Her throat went tight as the hurt settled into her bones. "Jealous?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. “Colin, that’s not... I’m trying to help you.”
“Then prove it,” he interrupted, crossing his arms. "Say you’re jealous, and I’ll break up with her. Just say it, Pen."
Pride burned in her chest, making it impossible for her to say the words he wanted to hear. She wanted to be honest, to let him see her heart, but not like this. Not when he seemed so ready to make a mockery of it.
She swallowed, her voice choked with the words she couldn’t bring herself to say. "Fine. You know what? If you’re so determined to believe that... maybe it’s better we don’t keep doing this.” She held his gaze for a second longer, feeling the weight of what she was saying, then turned and walked away.
She’d half expected him to call her back, to tell her he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t want to lose her. But he hadn’t.
Now, years later, she looked at him across the airport lounge, the words she hadn’t spoken still lodged somewhere deep inside her, aching like an old wound. But he’d never really understood, had he? That her warnings had been more than jealousy—they’d been an attempt to protect him, even if he’d never seen it.
Over the years, Penelope had found herself wondering, late at night or in the quiet moments between pages, what might have happened if she’d just swallowed her pride and admitted that she was jealous. What if, in that moment, she’d taken the risk and told him what she hadn’t even fully understood herself—that maybe she was jealous, that maybe her feelings ran deeper than she’d ever dared to let on?
Would he have taken her in his arms and laughed, the tension between them melting away? Would they have had their first kiss right there on that cracked sidewalk, with him brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear and telling her he felt the same? Would they have gone on from there, the way young lovers do, building something real together?
Or would he have simply shrugged, seeing her as nothing more than his oldest friend, relieved to finally hear the truth but never quite feeling the same? She didn’t know, and maybe she’d never know. But every time her mind circled back to that moment, she felt the ache of those unspoken words as if they were still hovering in the air, waiting to be said.
Now, sitting across from him in the airport lounge, she wondered if he’d ever thought about that day, too. Did he remember how close she’d come to admitting it? Did he regret what he’d said, the way he’d taunted her into silence? Or had he moved on completely, that memory nothing more than a brief chapter in his life?
"Do you ever think about the past?" she found herself asking, her voice softer than she’d intended.
He glanced at her, his expression shifting, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "More than you’d think," he said quietly, and for just a second, she thought she saw a glimpse of something—something real, something unguarded, like he’d let his guard down just enough for her to see what he’d kept hidden all these years.
And she knew, in that moment, that maybe some parts of the past weren’t as buried as she’d thought. So she shifted the conversation to safer territory.
“So tell me, is Eloise still as insufferable as she was in her teens during a game of pall mall?” she asked, and watched him grimace.
“Oh… definitely more insufferable now.”
As the minutes slipped by, Colin and Penelope found themselves tucked away at a small coffee shop in the airport, lost in a steady stream of memories that grew more vivid with each story shared. The bustling noise of travellers and announcements blurred into the background, leaving them in a world all their own, woven from fragments of the past.
"Do you remember Eloise’s birthday party in the 10th grade?" Penelope chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Colin laughed, rolling his eyes. "You mean the one where I dared you to eat that god-awful pepper? The one you swore you’d never touch again?"
Penelope nodded, covering her face. "I thought my mouth was on fire! And you... you stood there laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever seen."
"Hey, you were the brave one," he teased, his grin widening. "Although, after that, Eloise looked at me and swore she’d never trust you near the spice cabinet again."
They shared a smile, warmth spreading between them. Talking about Eloise reminded Penelope of all those times she’d snuck out late at night with Colin, meeting at the Bridgerton house for midnight snacks or late-night strolls when neither of them could sleep.
"Those late-night walks…," Penelope murmured, a faraway look in her eyes. "I can’t tell you how many times I nearly tripped over something in the dark."
Penelope's mind lingered on that night by the creek, the memory warming her despite the chill of the air in the airport lounge. After Colin had finally pulled her out of the water, he had taken off his hoodie, wrapping it around her shoulders to stave off the cold. She remembered how cosy it felt, his warm scent enveloping her as they huddled together, trying to share what little warmth they could.
Colin had been shivering too, his thin undershirt barely enough to keep the cold at bay. She had suggested they cuddle to stay warm, her cheeks flushing at the idea, but the vulnerability of the moment felt electric. As they settled closer together,. His big hands around her, and his broad, solid chest flush with her back, she had felt the heat radiating from him, his warm breath brushing against her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
It was the first time they had been so intimately close, the first time she had realised just how much she craved his presence, his touch. The warmth they shared contrasted starkly with the chilly air around them, but what haunted her was the thought of what could have happened if she had turned just a little bit, tilted her head, and kissed him.
What if she had been brave enough to cross that line? Would it have changed everything? Would they have shifted from friends to something deeper, something more? Or would he have pulled back, seeing her as nothing more than a sisterly figure?
She shook the thoughts away, focusing on Colin’s face as he reminisced, laughing about their silly childhood antics. Yet she could see a flicker of something in his eyes, a depth that suggested he might have felt it too.
“You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “You were always so adventurous, so full of life, even when you were shivering and soaked. I think that night was when I realised you were different from everyone else. It’s funny how those little moments stick with you.”
Penelope felt her heart skip a beat. “Different how?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
He shrugged, the smile fading just a bit as he searched for the right words. “I don’t know. You were always so unapologetically yourself. Even then, when you could have been embarrassed, you just laughed it off. It made me want to be more like you. To be brave, I guess.”
Brave. The word echoed in her mind, mingling with the memory of that night. “I wish I had been braver that night,” she confessed softly, almost to herself.
Colin’s gaze intensified, his expression shifting as he leaned in closer. “I wish I should have been braver that night.” He rubbed his forehead, as if that action could erase the regret from his mind, “God, how stupid I was in my youth!”
Penelope stared at him, not knowing what to say.
A beat of silence. Then his face broke onto a mischievous smile.
“And what about summer camp?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes. “The night we roasted s’mores with my siblings? That was probably the best weekend of my life.”
Penelope smiled, her eyes lighting up. "How could I forget? Eloise got marshmallows all over her face, and you insisted that I teach her the ‘perfect’ way to toast them."
“Don’t pretend you weren’t invested,” he shot back. “You were borderline fanatical. You’d stand there, holding the marshmallow at just the right angle, not too close, but not too far, until it turned golden brown.”
She nodded, laughing. "Of course, because your method was ‘stick it in the fire and see what happens.’ And, well, you know how that turned out.”
"Hey, burnt marshmallows have their charm!" Colin defended, trying to stifle his grin. "Besides, Benedict loved it. He thought the blacker it got, the better."
Their laughter faded, replaced by a gentle smile. They sat there, each remembering a world filled with warmth and friendship, laughter and adventure. They both knew that those moments had been more than just memories. They’d shaped who they were.
"And you?" he asked suddenly, his voice quiet. "What about your family? Felicity must be grown up now."
Penelope’s smile softened as she thought of her younger sister. "She’s all grown up and about to start college soon. It’s hard to believe sometimes. She still talks about that time you taught her to play football in our backyard, you know. You were her hero back then."
Colin chuckled, his face flushing a little. "She was a natural. I mean, she had a pretty strict coach in you."
"Well, you know," Penelope teased, "I had to make sure she kept up. Couldn’t let her be a total Bridgerton in training."
They both laughed, and Penelope felt her heart lighten. These were the pieces of her life that she’d missed sharing with him. The little moments, the stories, the bonds that had stretched through the years. She glanced out the window, where the rain was softly tapping against the glass, feeling as if this unexpected reunion had somehow brought her back to a place she’d thought she’d lost forever.
"Sometimes," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain, "I wish we could go back to those days. Before… everything."
He reached out, his hand resting close to hers on the table. "Maybe we can’t go back," he said gently. "But maybe… we don’t have to."
Penelope met his gaze, a quiet understanding passing between them. The years, the distance, the old wounds—they were still there, but maybe now, they didn’t have to carry them alone.
Just then, an announcement crackled over the loudspeakers, alerting passengers to the storm that had settled over the airport, delaying flights until further notice. Colin and Penelope both glanced up, the tension between them mingling with a strange sense of relief. The delay bought them more time—precious, stolen time that they hadn’t anticipated, yet now, it was all they wanted.
Penelope smiled, trying to hide her own nervousness. “Looks like we’re stuck here a little longer.”
As the hours passed, a comfortable silence settled between them, laced with an unspoken heaviness. Colin stirred, his fingers tracing idle patterns on his coffee cup as he finally allowed himself to voice the bitterness he’d carried for so long.
“Penelope… do you have any idea how it felt when you disappeared after the SATs?” he began, his voice almost accusing, though a flicker of hurt shadowed his expression. “I tried reaching out so many times. But every call, every message—nothing. It felt like you were avoiding me, like I never even existed to you.”
Penelope’s gaze softened, and she looked down, an edge of regret clouding her features. “I know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “I thought about reaching out so many times. I wondered… what it would’ve been like if we’d just talked, if I hadn’t let my pride get in the way.” She looked up, meeting his eyes with a pained smile. “But I was a coward. I ran away, Colin. I should’ve admitted that I was jealous… because I was.”
Colin shook his head, his tone filled with an earnestness that surprised even him. “Don’t say that, Pen. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known. You were always my ‘what if’—the one person I never truly felt at home without.”
She tilted her head, curiosity mingling with a hesitant hope. “What do you mean by that?”
He took a breath, feeling the vulnerability pressing in on him. “I mean… I never really wanted to be with anyone else. Not even Marina. I only went out with her because I wanted to make you jealous.” His confession hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. “I know it was immature and petty. But watching you go on a movie date with Michael… it drove me insane. I just wanted you to feel what I felt—seeing you with him.”
Penelope’s brows rose in shock. “What? Colin… are you serious?”
He nodded, looking down with a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah. It was stupid. I know that now. I watch my students get tangled up in drama every day, and all I can think is how much heartbreak I could’ve saved myself in my Teens if I’d been more honest with you… and with myself.”
“Colin…” Penelope’s voice was filled with helplessness, her gaze steady as she watched him unravel.
He shook his head, looking up at her with an intensity that seemed to transcend the years. “I’m sorry, Pen. I’ve always had feelings for you… ever since we were kids. But instead of owning up to it, I was petty. I humiliated you by asking if you were jealous, when really, I should’ve told you how I felt. I should’ve given you the chance to… to accept or reject me.”
Penelope reached across the table, her hand covering his. “But Colin… I was jealous.”
He blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice shaking just slightly. “Because I had feelings for you, too. I always thought that somehow… we’d end up together. But then you started dating Marina, and I thought maybe I’d just imagined everything.”
Colin’s brows knit in confusion. “But… What about Michael?”
She sighed, her expression softening as she remembered. “Michael was in love with a girl his cousin, John, was dating at that point in time. John kept teasing him about being lovesick and wanted to know who he was seeing, so Michael asked me to go on that date with him to throw John off.”
Colin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he processed the revelation. “God… I was an idiot.”
Penelope chuckled, the sound warm and tinged with relief. “We were both idiots. Young and stupid.”
Colin grinned, feeling a weight lift from his chest as laughter bubbled between them. “Well, at least we can agree on that.”
Then he paused, his gaze growing serious again as he looked at her. “And… What about now, Pen? Are we still those same idiots?”
Her smile faded, her heart beating faster as she felt the question settle between them, heavy and real. The years of hurt, of regret, of wondering… they all seemed to dissolve under the intensity of his gaze.
As Colin leaned back, a question lingered on his lips. He seemed hesitant, almost as though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. “Are you… seeing anyone, Pen?”
Before she could answer, a loud announcement echoed through the airport speakers: **“Attention, passengers. Due to severe storm conditions, all remaining flights have been cancelled until further notice.”**
They looked at each other in surprise as people around them sighed or groaned, scrambling for their phones and heading toward the airline counters. Colin’s eyes held hers, as if they both understood that their chance encounter was far from over. They were stranded.
Together, they made their way to the hotel and lounge desk, only to find a line of frustrated travellers. When they finally reached the counter, the weary-looking receptionist gave them an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but we’re fully booked. With the storm, every available room has been taken.”
Colin sighed, glancing over at Penelope. “There’s no other option?”
The receptionist tapped a few keys on her computer, frowning thoughtfully. “We do have… one last room. It’s small, just a single double bed. Would that be alright?”
Colin didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it.”
Penelope’s eyes widened, her cheeks warming slightly as she looked up at him, surprised by how calmly he’d accepted the arrangement. “Just… one room?” she asked, her voice soft, uncertain.
He turned to her, his expression unreadable but gentle. “Yes… I guess we’ll have to share.”
She felt her heart flutter, her fingers nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Right. I guess we will.”
He gave her a reassuring smile, as if sensing her nerves. "It’s just like old times, right? Us being stuck together?”
She laughed, feeling some of her tension ease. “Right. Just like old times.”
They collected their room key and made their way through the busy hotel corridors, dodging other stranded passengers who looked at them enviously as they passed, clutching the precious key to their unexpected night together. The reality of their situation—their single room, the intimacy of the arrangement—began to settle in as they finally stopped outside the door. Colin turned the key, holding it open for her as they both stepped inside.
The room was cosy, with warm lighting and a single, neatly made bed dominating the space.
They stood in the quiet, dimly lit room, the tension between them growing heavier with each passing second.
“So…” Penelope said, her voice soft.
“So…” Colin echoed, an almost playful glint in his eyes.
“We’re… sharing a bed.”
He shrugged, giving her a small, lopsided smile. “No other option.”
Penelope bit her lip, her gaze lingering on his. “No choice at all…”
“Of course not. We’re really stuck here. Blame it on the storm,” he replied, trying to sound casual, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed him.
Penelope looked away, feeling warmth creep up her cheeks. “You know I get scared of thunderstorms, right?”
“I do remember…” he murmured, his voice a gentle reassurance.
As if on cue, a loud thunderclap rattled the room, making her jump and let out a small yelp. Instinctively, Colin reached for her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, drawing her close. “Shh… you’re safe here,” he whispered, his hand running gently down her back as her head rested against his chest.
She let out a quiet laugh, feeling his heartbeat beneath her cheek. “Seems you were… ready for that.”
“Oh,” he said with a low chuckle, his hand lingering on her back. “I was actually counting on it.”
Penelope pulled back just enough to look up at him, her face inches from his. “Good. I was counting on it, too.” Her gaze flickered to his mouth, and she felt the breath catch in her throat.
They stayed like that, suspended in the moment, her hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as her heart pounded in her chest. Colin’s hand drifted up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone. There was a tenderness in his touch, a quiet intimacy that seemed to dissolve the years between them.
“So… now what?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Colin’s hand slid down to rest on her neck, his fingers threading into her hair. He leaned down, his breath warm against her lips. “Now… the inevitable.”