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The sound of the doorbell hit her chest before it reached her ears. For a heartbeat, Penelope thought she had imagined it, after all, she’d been listening to it all day, every small noise from the hallway making her pulse jump.

But then it came again.

One soft chime, like the start of a song she already knew by heart.

She barely glanced at her reflection, knowing that her hair was a little messy, her cheeks already flushed, before crossing the room. Her hand hesitated on the handle just long enough for her to calm her beating heart. And then she opened the door.

Colin stood there, travel-worn and radiant, the brim of his cap casting a small shadow over the grin she’d been missing for twenty days. His suitcase was still by his side, his other hand already reaching for her before she could say a word.

“Hi,” he said, voice rougher than usual, that single syllable heavy with everything they hadn’t been able to touch.

“Hi,” she whispered back, smiling like she couldn’t remember how not to.

He stepped forward. She didn’t move back.

For a moment, it felt like gravity itself had chosen sides.

Their first kiss wasn’t gentle. It was a collision, the sound of relief, of all the nights spent imagining this. She tasted travel and laughter and something like home. His hands found her waist; hers slid up his shoulders, the familiar lines finally under her palms again.

When they broke apart, both breathless, Colin rested his forehead against hers.

“You’re real,” he murmured, half in disbelief, half in prayer.

“So are you,” she smiled, fingers brushing the stubble on his jaw. “And you look better than all the photos Michaela sent.”

He laughed, low and warm. 

“She’s going to love hearing that.”

Penelope pulled him inside, kicking the door closed behind them. 

“Later. For now, I don’t want to share you with anyone.”

“Good,” he said, dropping his bag to the floor. “Because I plan to spend the next few hours making up for every message I couldn’t deliver in person.”

Her laugh was soft, nervous, expectant. 

“Oh, really? What kind of message?”

“The kind that doesn’t need words.”

He kissed her again, slower this time. His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, her jaw, the line of her neck. When his lips brushed the spot just beneath her ear, she shivered and he smiled against her skin.

“I missed that,” he whispered.

“Which part?” she asked, voice breaking into a breath.

“All of it,” he said. “You. The sound you make when I do this.”

He kissed the hollow of her throat. Her fingers tangled in his hair. 

“You never did this before, how could you miss how I sound?”

“I did in all of my dreams,” he murmured, and she felt the truth of it, like a heartbeat against her own.

They moved together through the small apartment, laughter mixing with the rhythm of their steps. He stopped when he saw the table she’d set: the wine, the cheese, the cherry tomatoes glinting like small rubies in the candlelight.

“You really did prepare all this for me?”

“I wanted it to be perfect when you got here.”

He turned back to her, eyes softening. 

“It already is just with you in my arms, darling!”

And when he kissed her again, slower, deeper, the twenty days between them dissolved like sugar in warm wine.

The kiss deepened until even the candles seemed to flicker slower, as if the whole room had decided to watch them breathe.

Colin’s hand slipped to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while Penelope’s fingers traced the edge of his collar, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath her touch. She smiled against his lips, tasting the faint salt of travel and the promise of something new, something they’d both been waiting for far too long.

“Dinner first,” she whispered, though her voice trembled at the thought of pulling away.

He looked at her for a moment with a grin that made her knees weaken.

“If you insist, milady. But I’ll warn you: I’m starving and not just for food.”

When they finally settled on the floor, Colin reached for the bottle, but even that, apparently, required him to be close to her. He slid behind her instead of sitting beside her, his knees bracketing her hips as if it were the most natural arrangement in the world. She caught his gaze and held it, the kind of silence that hummed rather than echoed.

“Let me,” he murmured, taking the glass from her hand, his breath brushing her shoulder.

She tried very hard to focus on the quiet glug of the wine being poured, but Colin was leaning in, his lips grazing the curve of her neck as he tipped the bottle.

“Colin…” she whispered, though she didn’t move away.

“Hm?” he answered, kissing the place where her neck met her shoulder. “I’m multitasking.”

“You’re distracting.”

“You’re sitting in front of me smelling like this,” he whispered against her skin, voice already warm with want. “I don’t stand a chance, my love.”

He handed her the glass from behind, his fingers brushing hers deliberately and then, before she could lift it, he tucked his face against the side of her throat again, kissing her slowly, as if he’d been starving for this exact spot.

Penelope swallowed, her breath faltering.

“Colin, you’re supposed to pour one for yourself too.”

“I’ll get to it,” he said, his lips skimming up to the soft place beneath her ear. “Eventually.”

He finally reached for his own glass, but only after sliding an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest so he could pour it over her shoulder. His mouth never left her skin for more than a second.

Every time he exhaled, she felt it. Every time he kissed her, she melted a little more.

“Tell me about your trip,” she said, trying for light and casual and absolutely failing, because he was kissing the slope of her shoulder between sentences.

He hummed against her skin. 

“It was long. Boring. Too many people talking at me when all I wanted was to get on the next plane home.” He poured a little more into her glass. “And the food was obviously my favorite part, but you already know that.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t enjoy it?”

“Oh, I enjoyed imagining getting back to you.”

he murmured, brushing her hair aside so he could kiss lower, “That part was lovely.” 

Her breath hitched and he definitely noticed.

“Colin…” She nudged him gently, half scolding, half melting. “You were supposed to be working.”

“I worked,” he said, as if offended. “Professionally. Efficiently. Impressively.” He kissed her again, slower this time, just beneath her ear. “But missing you was a full-time job..”

She laughed softly. 

“What about you, baby? When is Pippa’s wedding?”

“Next month.” He nodded once. 

“Can I go with you to the rehearsal dinner  too? Or am I only allowed to attend the main ceremony?”

She blinked at him.

“Do you want to go with me?”

He gave her an amused, disbelieving, a little wounded look that she’d even asked.

“Penelope. I’m your boyfriend.” He leaned in, brushing his nose against her cheek before murmuring, “I fully intend to claim every boyfriend privilege available. Including being on your arm at that wedding.”

Her face heated, but she didn’t look away. “And what exactly are those privileges?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, picking up her hand and kissing each knuckle slowly, deliberately, “you have no idea how many privileges I’m planning on exercising.”

Her pulse fluttered.

“Besides,” he continued softly, “I want to be properly beside you. No more pretending to be anything but yours.”

“You were always mine, baby” He kissed her shoulder again, then her neck, then her jaw, following a path that had absolutely nothing to do with dinner.

“Speaking of standing beside you…” he murmured, lips brushing her pulse, “I’m trying very hard to behave, but you’re making that impossible.”

“I’m just sitting here,” she laughed.

“You’re sitting here” his voice dipped, “and you’re warm, and soft, and so close I can feel every breath you take.”

Penelope found her hand resting on his thigh, her thumb stroking unconsciously, making his breath stutter.

When she leaned in to pick up a cherry tomato, he exhaled sharply behind her, his lips brushing the back of her neck.

“Darling,” he whispered, voice breaking a little, “if we keep pretending this is a normal dinner, I’m going to lose whatever patience I have left.”

She turned, inches from his mouth.

“Maybe I don’t have any patience with me either.”

Their mouths met again, slower this time, there was no rush, just the quiet surrender of finally being allowed to feel what had lived between them for years. His hands trailed down her arms, her waist, memorizing her as if touch could make up for lost time.

Penelope’s fingers slid beneath the fabric of his shirt, tracing the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his breath. He closed his eyes, exhaling her name.

When she pulled back just enough to look at him, the sight almost undid her; his hair tousled, eyes dark and bright at once, his smile a mixture of disbelief and hunger.

“I’m never leaving again.” He said with his voice rough.

“Good,” she said, leaning in until their lips brushed once more. “Because I’m not letting you.”

The last word barely left her mouth before Colin kissed her again like he’d been starving for her and finally, finally had permission to feast. His hands framed her face, slid to her neck, then down her waist, mapping every inch like he needed to memorize her shape before she vanished. The apartment around them seemed to fall away, the world shrinking to the heat of his breath and the familiar, overwhelming scent of him finally pressed against her.

Penelope tugged him gently toward her bedroom, she didn’t have to pull hard, Colin followed instantly, like gravity had new rules and she was all of them.

He groaned, actually groaned, when her fingers threaded into his hair, tugging just enough to unravel whatever restraint he had left.

“Penelope…” The way he said her name, low, breathless, hungry, made her knees give out.

He caught her instantly, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him. There was no mistaking the urgency of his body, the way he pressed into her like he couldn’t get close enough, like closeness itself wasn’t nearly enough.

“God,” he breathed into her neck, “you feel so incredible under my fingertips.”

She’d imagined this a thousand times, but none of those fantasies had prepared her for the reality of Colin kissing her like she was the one thing he’d always wanted but never allowed himself to reach for.

He kissed down her throat, slow and possessive, his lips dragging heat along her skin.

“Tell me I can touch you,” he said, voice wrecked.

“You can,” she whispered. “You can do anything you want to me, baby!”

That undid him.

She reached for the hem of her shirt, but he caught her wrists softly, his gaze sweeping over her with that hungry, disbelieving awe that made her feel like she was something worth worshipping.

“Let me,” he murmured.

He undressed her slowly, reverently, piece by piece, like rediscovering a dream he had memorized in the dark. When the lace dipped low on her hip, his breath caught just with the memory, then with the reality before him.

The butterflies.

The ones she’d sent him. The ones he’d stared at like a madman alone in his bed.  Two small, delicate outlines on her skin, inked right at the soft curve of her hip.

“God…” His voice broke on the single word.

She felt his hand hover there, not touching yet, like he needed permission to worship.

“You like them better in person?" she teased gently, though her voice trembled.

“Like them?” Colin sank to his knees in front of her, his palms sliding to her hips as if pulled by instinct. His lips hovered just above the ink. “Penelope, I’ve gone insane because of them.”

He kissed the skin beside one wing, soft, almost shaky.

“When you sent me that picture…” His mouth moved lower, tracing the empty air just above the second butterfly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you. About having you like this.”

Her fingers slipped into his hair as he pressed his lips to the tattoo again, slowly, deliberately, a vow written in warmth.

“I kept imagining,” he confessed, breathing against her skin, “how warm it would feel to kiss, to touch your soft skin. How you’d react. How much I’d want to...” He stopped himself, the unfinished thought hanging between them like a spark.

She shivered, her knees weakening under the weight of his voice, his devotion, the way he held her like she was something he had prayed for.

“Colin…” she whispered, almost pleading.

He rose, his hands sliding up her ribs, his mouth trailing a slow line up her torso until he reached her lips again. This kiss was deeper, urgent, a little wild. She tasted every moment of the twenty days he’d spent wanting her and every moment she’d spent wanting him back.

“You’re everything I dreamed about,” he said against her mouth. “I’ve wanted this longer than I’ll ever admit.”

Her breath hitched and Colin didn’t miss it. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.

“Now that I have you…” His hands traced her waist, her hips, slow, reverent, hungry. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered, fingers curling in his shirt before pushing it off his shoulders. “Not tonight. Not ever”

He finished undressing himself and reached for the condoms in his pockets, slid it on with shaking hands, then returned to her like he couldn’t bear even a second of distance.

He kissed her again, and they fell onto the bed together, her back sinking into the mattress as he hovered above her, every line of his body pressed to hers, every breath shared.

His hands roamed slow at first, then bolder as she responded, meeting his touch with her own hunger. Her fingers skimmed his back, his shoulders, pulling him down until their bodies fit together with sinful, perfect ease.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he murmured against her mouth and she melted into it, into every fantasy she had ever kept locked behind her ribs.

His weight settled over her slowly, as if he was afraid of rushing the moment. The mattress dipped beneath them, softening until he felt impossibly close, impossibly real. Penelope’s breath caught when he brushed a piece of hair from her cheek, his fingers trembling just enough to betray how undone he already was.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

She did. And the look on his face nearly unraveled her completely, like he was trying to memorize her all at once and falling short only because she kept surprising him.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart…”

He lowered himself to kiss her again, exploring, savoring. His lips moved with unhurried devotion, as if he wanted to feel her react to every gentle press, every shift, every brush of his mouth. She melted into it, her hands sliding up his back, drawing him closer.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured against her lips. “I missed you so much it hurt.”

His mouth found her breast, kissing, sucking softly until she moaned and pulled at his hair, her back arching into him. His touch grew bolder, her hands grew needier, the room warming with something soft and hungry all at once.

Colin’s fingers slipped beneath her hip, tracing the curve of her waist with a reverence that made her exhale sharply.

“You are so hot,” Colin put his hands on her waist and she whimpered as she felt his covered erection on her and his fingers travelling down her opening, “Tell me how you want, Pen”.

“Just like that,” she whined, moving her hands to cover his own "I want you to keep going just like that”. She pulled him closer, her lips brushing his ear.

His answering groan was soft but wrecked.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured.

She cupped his face, her thumb brushing over the faint stubble on his cheek, and leaned up to kiss him, moaning softly into his mouth, answering everything he had just confessed without needing a single word.

He kissed her back like he’d been starving and finally had something that tasted like home. Passion simmered between them, warm and steady, building in waves rather than sparks. Every movement was a little more desperate, a little more theirs.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, settling over her. “God, you’re perfect…”

The rhythm they found was soft, intimate, aching with relief and the kind of passion that came from waiting too long. Every sigh, every touch, every whispered praise wrapped around them until she was falling apart beneath him, crying out his name like it belonged to her.

Her moans of pleasure reverberated throughout their bodies as his hips met hers. Colin closed his eyes, letting nothing but the rhythm of their bodies dull the rest of his senses.

“God! You feel so good. You are so perfect, gorgeous,” he praised. She felt him twitch inside her, his own moan answering her.

Her hands explored the lines of his back, the strength of his shoulders, the warmth of his skin beneath her palms. He groaned softly into her mouth, the sound low enough to make her shiver.

“Oh God, Colin!" she exclaimed, a hand held to his arm.

"I've often dreamt of you moaning those words in my ear, baby!”

Her release triggered his, and Colin’s moan broke against her shoulder as he buried his face in her neck, shaking with the force of it.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

The room was warm, quiet, glowing like ethereal candlelight and the soft rhythm of their breathing. Colin looked at her with his soft eyes, smile wrecked and kissed her gently.

“I don’t even have words,” she whispered against his lips.

He smiled, proudly and completely undone, completely hers, addicted to every part of her, from the butterflies on her hip to the way she whispered his name like it was something sacred.

“Come here, my love,” he murmured, pulling her into him with tenderness, guiding her until she was curled between his arms, small and warm and perfect against his body. Penelope melted instantly, burying her face in the warm, steady thrum of his heartbeat. He kissed the top of her head, her temple, her cheek, like he couldn’t decide which part of her he loved most.

Colin tightened his hold, tucking her even closer, their legs tangled, their breaths syncing as the adrenaline faded and something impossibly tender settled between them.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered, cradling her like something cherished. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

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The first thing Penelope felt was his warmth spreading through her like something she’d been starved for. Colin’s legs tangled with hers, his arm draped securely over her waist, his hand splayed against her stomach as if even in sleep he refused to let her slip away. His breathing stirred the hair at the back of her neck slowly, content and every exhale melted her deeper into the nest of blankets and limbs surrounding them. She could feel the steady thump of his heart against her back.

She didn’t move for a long time, simply let herself exist in the warmth of him, in the reality of something she had secretly imagined too many times to count.

Colin stirred behind her, tightening his hold even before he fully woke. His nose brushed her shoulder, then his lips followed with a slow, sleep-husky kiss.

“Morning, my love…” His voice was low and rough, vibrating against her skin. “Would you look at that?” He squeezed her softly; she could hear the smile in his whisper. “We woke up exactly like that photo I sent you.”

Penelope’s heart twisted beautifully. She rolled onto her back, and Colin followed naturally, shifting until he hovered above her. His hair was messy, his expression soft and still dazed from sleep.

“Was it everything you fantasized about?” she teased, fingers brushing the warm skin at the base of his neck.

He leaned down, kissing the corner of her mouth lazily.

“Better,” he murmured. “So much better. The photo didn’t even come close.” A soft noise escaped him, half sigh, half groan. “God… waking up like this with you…”

He didn’t finish, didn’t need to. His hand was already moving, slow, reverent strokes along her waist, tracing the curve of her hip like he couldn’t help himself. Her eyes darkened at the touch.

“Come here, sweetheart, ” he whispered.

He kissed her so slowly it made her toes curl, and she moaned softly against his mouth.

“I think that might be my new favourite sound,” he whispered, kissing her again with a tenderness that burned. His thumb brushed her cheek, his fingers sliding through her hair as if rediscovering every inch of her.

When he finally pulled away to breathe, he traced her bottom lip with his thumb.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmured, “how badly I need to touch you?”

“Colin…” Her voice trembled in a way she couldn’t hide.

He kissed her jaw, then the corner of her mouth, then lower, leaving slow, lingering brushes of lips along her skin. His hand slid down her waist, over her hip, settling there like it belonged.

She curled into him, drawing him closer by instinct. He exhaled shakily, resting his forehead against hers.

“I could stay like this forever,” he whispered. “Just us and nowhere else to be.”

“Then don’t go anywhere,” she murmured, her fingers sliding along the nape of his neck. The shiver that followed made her smile.

Colin gathered her closer, rolling them gently until she was tucked against his chest. Penelope melted into him with a soft, contented sigh that made him hold her even tighter. She buried her face against his throat for a moment, breathing him in. He kissed her shoulder, slowly.. 

“How do you feel?”

“Mmm… happy,” she whispered, turning in his arms until she could face him. “And maybe a little… clingy.”

Colin’s grin was instant and devastating. “God, say that again.”

She hid her face in his chest, giggling. 

“I’m clingy.”

He slid a hand into her hair, tilting her head back so he could see her. 

“Perfect. I like you clingy. I’ve been clingy for weeks.”

“I used to imagine this, you know…” Her voice went small and a little breathless. “You holding me. Waking up together. I wanted it for so long it scared me sometimes.”

Colin kissed her palm, his eyes so full she almost couldn’t bear it. 

“You can want anything with me now. Everything. If I’d known… God, Pen, if I’d known you felt like this, I would never have wasted a single day.”

She snuggled closer, her nose brushing his jaw, fingers tracing gentle patterns at his waist.

“I’m just really happy you’re here now,” she murmured. “That we’re finally together.”

He wrapped both arms around her, holding her like she was something precious.

Penelope snuggled even closer, warm and sweet against his chest, her fingers tracing soft, absent-minded little circles on his ribs. Colin let out the kind of sigh someone made only when everything he’d ever wanted was finally in his arms. But just when he rolled her beneath him with a husky growl, he instantly froze.

“Wait.” He blinked down at her, then pushed up on his elbows. “Wait, wait… I forgot something.”

Penelope laughed breathlessly. 

“What could possibly be more important right now?”

“You, darling” he said, brushing a kiss to her lips. “I brought something for you!”

Before she could ask, he leapt off the bed, barefoot, hair messy, without any clothes that still were somewhere on the floor, and rushed out of the room like a man possessed.

She sat up on her elbows, cheeks flushed, utterly confused and utterly charmed.

A moment later, he jogged back in, hair even messier, cheeks faintly pink, holding something small in his hand. When he climbed back into bed, he settled beside her again, really close, before placing the little velvet box in her palm.

“I brought this home for you,” he said, voice suddenly softer. “Even before I knew how last night would go. I didn’t know if I’d get the chance to give it to you. But I know what I want.”

Her breath caught.

“Colin…”

He swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over the top of her hand.

“I sent you a photo of it because I couldn’t wait, the moment I saw it, I knew it had to be yours.” His voice dropped to a soft, trembling tone. “And I need you to know exactly what I want with you.”

She opened the box slowly. The ring glimmered in the morning light, delicate gold, clustered diamonds like tiny petals, and at the center a luminous pearl that looked almost alive. Penelope’s eyes filled instantly.

Colin cupped her cheek, his forehead pressing gently to hers. His thumb wiped a tear before it could fall.

“This is the promise I want to make to you… That I choose you, my love.”

She let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed.

“You’re everything I ever dreamed of, Pen,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “Everything.”

The box trembled faintly in her hands.

“Colin…” she whispered, her voice breaking on his name.

“This ring is yours the moment you want it to be. Today, tomorrow, next month or next year, you’re the one to call it, love.” he said. “And when you decide we’re ready, I’ll ask you properly with my whole heart.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a kiss that was trembling, passionate, overflowing with everything she’d ever held back.

“I always wanted you,” she whispered against his lips. “Always, Colin.” He slid the ring onto her finger and placed a soft kiss there, unable to fully express what he was feeling in words at that moment.

He kissed her again, slowly, deep and reverent, laying her gently back against the pillows, his hand sliding along her waist with a sensual tenderness that made her shiver.

“Let me show you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers, “how much I want you too.”

He started with slow, lingering kisses, his hands exploring her body softly, worshipping every single inch of her.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, Pen,” he murmured reverently, leaning in to kiss her breasts. “I want to wake beside you like this for the rest of my life, sweetheart!”

“Yes!” she murmured softly, losing her fingers through his hair, scraping his nape and pulling him to a new passionate kiss. “I want you! I want to belong to you and you to belong to me forever!”

He moaned, pushing her and pressing their bodies even closer, moving with the quiet certainty of two people who finally knew they were home.

The way she moaned his name made him harder than he’d ever been in his life, her fingers wound more tightly in his hair, and her thighs pressed hard against his body, she crying his name in his ear.

“You drive me crazy, love! You feel so good, I just want to bury myself in your perfect body!”

“Please” she whimpered. “Please, please, Colin…”

“What do you want, Pen? Tell me and I will give you everything!”

“I need you, baby, please…” she kissed his jaw and his neck, feeling his hands on her breasts.

“God, you are so sexy,” he groans, sucking her nipple. “I can believe you let me have you like this! I'm the luckiest bastard in all of England!”

He used all his concentration and opened the wrapper, rolling the condom onto him. She was on her back, his weight pressing her down as his lips crashed onto hers and bringing a hand between them, Colin aligned himself with her entrance, swallowing her moan when he pushed into her.

They fit perfectly together and she swore it was even better than the night before.

“Colin, I need you to move, please, baby, please…”

“Fuck, you feel amazing, sweetheart” he sink to her, pounding slowly and appreciating how she arched her back when a jolt of pleasure shot through her. “I never want to let you go,” Colin groaned into her ear.

In the passionate movements their bodies made, their hips colliding in a constant search for closer contact and ever greater, more delicious intensity of pleasure, they completely lost track of time. With the delightful shock of pleasure that hit them both, leaving them breathless, they reached their climax almost simultaneously.

With a brief kiss to her shoulder, he rolled off her, collapsing into the pillows as he caught his breath, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her waist. Penelope let out a soft, content sigh, stretching beside him like a cat who’d finally found the sunbeam it had been chasing.

After a moment, he began to pull her close again, kissing her neck and shoulders softly, sliding his hands over her body, making it clear that he wanted to start over and she laughed quietly. 

“If we stay here any longer, we’re never leaving this bed again.”

“That’s… honestly fine with me,” he said, kissing her jaw, then her shoulder, then the spot just under her ear that made her tremble.

She nudged his chest with a playful little whine. 

“Since when is my boyfriend not interested in breakfast? I know you’re probably hungry.”

He groaned dramatically. 

“Fine. But I reserve the right to kiss you every ten seconds on the way.”

“You won’t see me resisting you,” she said, smiling so brightly it nearly undid him all over again.

They finally slipped out of bed, still touching and brushing against each other like magnets with no intention of parting. After using the bathroom, brushing their teeth and washing their face, Penelope pulled on his shirt, drowning adorably in it, while he tugged on soft lounge pants and immediately slung an arm around her waist.

As they stepped into the kitchen, sunlight washed over everything, soft gold spilling across the counters, warm against their bare feet.

“That’s beautiful,” he murmured behind her.

She followed his gaze. The bouquet he had sent her on the seventh day he’d been gone sat right in the center of the table. And it looked almost exactly the same as the day it arrived: sunflowers open and glowing, blue roses velvety and unreal, tiny blue blossoms scattered like stardust between them.

She felt her cheeks warm.

“I… kept changing the water,” she said, suddenly shy.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him.

“It helped,” she said. “Looking at them made the apartment feel less empty.”

He kissed her shoulder, slow and lingering.

“Then I’m glad I sent them.”

He stayed behind her the whole time, his hands skimming over her waist, his lips brushing her neck whenever she wasn’t expecting it. Penelope slipped out of his arms only to turn on the oven.

“Can I interest you in the strawberry tarts I promised you before?” she replied, tying her hair up in a messy knot as she moved toward the kitchen. “You know… the heart shaped ones I sent you a photo of. And made you lose your concentration in a meeting.”

“Oh, I’m very aware which ones ,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.

She had already prepared the tarts, ready to go straight into the oven, but he admired every gesture of hers as if it were the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. 

"Looks like I wasn't the only one who got ahead of myself without being sure what our night would be like," Colin joked, pleased to admire the glint the ring on her finger made as she concentrated on what she was doing. "Sure, baby. Because preparing tarts to bake for breakfast and buying a ring for a marriage proposal are the same thing!” she rolled her eyes to him, playful.

The moment she opened the oven, the sweet smell filled the kitchen. Heart-shaped pastries, golden and bubbling lightly at the edges. He came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder.

“God, that smells good,” he said, kissing the side of her neck.

“I hope it tastes just as good.”

“I wasn’t talking about the tarts, but I'll make sure to taste everything.”

He didn’t go far, just stepped aside enough to help her place them on the counter. Then he reached for the pan to prepare bacon, because apparently he was incapable of standing in a kitchen without pretending he knew what he was doing.

“You want my help?” she asked, amused.

“I always want a reason to stay close to you,” he said honestly, already pulling bacon strips from the package.

She whisked eggs, he flipped bacon, they kissed between steps, bumped hips, laughed, and stole little touches like two people who’d been starved for each other.

“Careful,” she warned as he leaned in for another kiss. “You’re going to burn the bacon.”

“I’m not that distracted,” he said.

By the time the table was set with toast, eggs, bacon, fresh orange juice, coffee and the still-warm strawberry pies, Colin looked back at her with an expression that softened everything inside her.

“Come here,” he said quietly.

She walked to him, and when he tugged her onto his lap, she went without hesitation, curling into him like she belonged there. Penelope settled sideways across his thighs, one arm curling instinctively around his shoulders as his hand found her waist.

“Comfortable?” he murmured against her cheek.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Perfectly comfortable.”

“Good,” he said, brushing a kiss just below her jaw. “I don’t plan on letting you sit anywhere else, darling.”

They started feeding each other between kisses, laughing whenever they missed each other’s mouths by an inch.

Penelope picked up a small piece of bacon, warm and crispy, and brought it to his lips. Colin took it slowly, deliberately grazing her fingers with his mouth, making her shiver.

“You are always so hot it’s unfair,” she whispered.

“I’m not trying to be fair,” he replied, voice embarrassingly soft for how wrecked he looked. “I’m trying to make you blush again. You look so beautiful.”

He reached for one of the strawberry tarts, broke it in half, the inside steaming, and blew gently to cool it and lifted it toward her mouth. The tenderness of it hit her harder than his teasing. She leaned forward to take a bite, closing her eyes at the taste.

“Good?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Tastes so much better sharing with you, my love.” She brought the other half to his mouth as well, making him smile before biting into it.

“Sweet,” he said, brushing his thumb over her lower lip. “But not sweeter than you.”

She laughed, half flustered, half drunk on him.

Between bites of pastry and stolen mouthfuls of toast, they tangled into each other again, her fingers in his curls, his hands warm and restless against her thighs.

They lost themselves in another kiss, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that said everything they weren’t ready to say out loud.

When he finally rested his forehead on her shoulder, breathing deeply, still not ready to let go, he murmured softly against her skin:

“Pen…”

“Mm?” she hummed, fingers stroking the back of his neck.

“I want to tell my family about us,” he said, voice low but sure. “I want our families to know, every single person to know. My mum, especially! God, she’s going to throw a parade.”

“She will.” Penelope let out a tiny, breathy laugh.

“She’s been rooting for you since forever,” he continued, thumb brushing her cheekbone. “And honestly? I think she might actually cry. Happy tears. Loud ones.”

Penelope felt her heart squeeze, because she knew it was true, his mother had always adored her like a daughter.

“But we don’t have to rush,” he added, softer now. “It’s your call, Pen. I want to tell them today, to the whole world to know I’m yours. But only if you want that too.”

She cupped his face with both hands, her chest swelling painfully, beautifully.

“Colin,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his, “I want that more than anything.”

His breath caught.

“Yeah?”

She nodded, brushing her nose against his in a tiny, intimate nudge.

“I’ve spent so long loving you quietly. It feels unreal that I finally get to love you out loud.”

He kissed her then deep, loving and sweetly. When he pulled back, he smiled that soft, crooked smile she’d always been weak for.

“Then we’ll tell them today,” he whispered. “We can even send the message, right in the family group chat. Let Eloise choke on her morning tea.”

Penelope burst out laughing, burying her face in his neck, and he wrapped both arms around her, holding her so tightly she felt it all the way to her ribs.

She lifted her head again, brushing one last kiss to his jaw.

“Sounds perfect,” she said and he kissed her temple.

“You know, I did everything out of order, Pen. I gave you a ring before telling my family you’re my girlfriend properly. We became… this” he squeezed her gently “before I even had the chance to take you on a real date.”

Her heart thudded.

“I came straight to your home from the airport, we climbed into bed together and it was perfect,” he continued with a soft laugh. “But you deserve more than that. You deserve all of it done right.”

Her breath caught.

“What are you saying?” she asked quietly.

“I’m saying,” he murmured, tipping her chin up with a touch so tender she could melt, “that I want to take you out. A real date. Something beautiful, something worthy of you. Dinner at a really nice restaurant, more beautiful flowers, everything.”

Her eyes softened, because he meant it, every word, every promise woven into his voice.

“You don’t have to,” she whispered.

“But I want to,” he said. “I want to do this right with you, Pen. I want to give you every moment you ever dreamed of.”

Her fingers curled in his shirt.

“Even if we already skipped straight to the good part?”

Colin grinned, kissing the corner of her mouth.

“We don't need to stop the good part; we can alternate and repeat it all the time as well.”

She leaned her forehead against his, and he kissed her again, slow and sweet, tasting the strawberries on her lips. His hand slid under the hem of her shirt, tracing lazy circles on her spine.

“This,” he murmured against her cheek, “feels so good to be true.”

She turned her face to him, her nose brushing his.

“It does.”

Colin brushed a kiss against her cheek, then another just below her jaw, his lips lingering like he couldn’t quite stop himself. He shifted slightly beneath her, one hand coming up to cradle her cheek while the other stayed firm at her waist, holding her close as if to anchor the words.

Penelope tangled her fingers in his hair when Colin opened his eyes, slowly, like he was waking up from a really good dream. He didn’t pull back, didn’t even think about it.

“If you keep kissing me like that…” he murmured, voice low and deliciously rough.

“It's not my fault,” she shot back, though she didn’t sound the least bit convincing. Her lips were still warm, still tingling. “You're the one who started it.”

Colin let out a soft laugh, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I absolutely did not start it. But I can keep going, if you want me to.”

Her heart was pounding in her throat, her whole body asking for more.

“I want you to.” she whispered softly, already undone, tired of holding back.

His eyes darkened, his smile turned slow and wicked. Colin tilted his head and kissed her again, not so gently this time. He kissed her like he’d been waiting years, like he was discovering her in pieces, tasting something new with every second. And Penelope matched him just as intensely, grabbing onto him and pulling him closer, not even pretending to keep her cool.

His hand slid up her back, firm and warm and a little too desperate. He made a quiet sound against her mouth when she accidentally bit his lower lip and that nearly finished him.

“Pen…” he breathed, voice wrecked. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to finish the breakfast now and we go back to bed.”

“Take me to bed, Colin,” she whispered, with passion in her expression.

He slipped his arm under her legs, easily lifting her and walking back to her room without stopping kissing her. Colin gently placed her on the mattress and leaned over her, pressing his lips to hers again with intensity.

“I can’t stay away from you anymore,” he admitted, in that voice he only used when he meant something.

“Good,” she said. “Because I don’t want distance either.”

He kissed her again, slowly at first, then deeper and Penelope wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, surrendering to the warmth of his body and the quiet promise in the way he touched her. When he whispered her name against her lips and she whispered his back, nothing else mattered.

They sank into each other again, into everything they had waited far too long to have.

Right now, there was only the certainty, simple and absolute, that they belonged to each other.

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