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Assistant: Title: all we leave unsaid
        Author: abvj abvj 
        Chapter: 2/7 
        Summary: When he is away, she moves and keeps moving.
  She adjusts. She endures. She thrives.
  She misses him, but the act of missing him becomes as intrinsic as the act of loving him, and yet another thing she carries with her.
  But after—
  Everything is different.
Wherein these two idiots have the worst possible timing, the best of intentions with the worst ideas, and spend far too much time talking without saying anything at all.*Updates on Mondays!
        Contents: Chapter 2: two
    

    

        
          
          
            
  
    Everthing is fine.
  
Wherein these two excel at everything BUT actually communicating, and have to deal with the repercussions of their actions.
          
        

      
        
          Thank you so much to everyone who read and commented on the first chapter!!!!! I appreciate every single kudos, comment, and rec. It makes me ecstatic that people enjoy something that truly made me so happy to write.
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    
  
    
      
    
  
_________________________________________Penelope worries things will be weird after.Turns out, however, that she and Colin coaxing each other to @rg@sm over the phone changes absolutely nothing. She isn’t sure why she thought it would.The next morning, she wakes to a good morning text and a snapshot of his current view, and things just keep on moving forward as they usually do. Penelope isn’t sure whether to be affronted or relieved, but settles on the latter because it’s just easier that way.A lifetime of living under Portia’s reign has made compartmentalisation a means of survival—it is all she knows.They do not talk about it, and, as a rule, she actively does not think about it, but things between them do feel charged in a way they never have before.Three days later, their conversations have been kept to text only, which is fine and not unusual, but she misses the sound of his voice in a way she never has before. Penelope does not allow herself to explore why, but her mind does grow weary of all the effort it is putting into not thinking about the fact that she knows exactly what he sounds like when he comes, and she very quickly starts gaslighting herself into wondering if it even happened at all. And if it did happen, if they did hook up (and does phone s@x even count as a hookup? Penelope doesn’t even know how to begin researching this), will it ever happen again? And if it does happen again, will things between them then turn weird and awkward? Are things between them already weird and awkward, and she has tricked herself into believing otherwise? Does she want it to happen again? Does he want it to happen again? If it does happen again, will their friendship slowly start to degrade and decompensate as a result? Will she slowly degrade and decompensate as a result—She is mid-spiral, pulling up her incognito tab to ask some very important questions about the current state of hookup culture and proper etiquette when he texts her.
  Colin Bridgerton to Penelope
10 June 2025
[22:33]
Colin Bridgerton: Can I call?It’s unusual for him to ask, and it is late. She doesn’t click on the text right away. Doesn’t want him to be notified of her presence in the chat with those three dumb little dots.Colin Bridgerton: I miss the sound of your voiceThe notification pops up on the top of her screen. She watches as it disappears, and her heart clenches. She hates the fact that she loves that they are, even now, on the same page.Penelope doesn’t reply but does call him after a very, very brief deliberation.He picks up before the first ring has even been completed.“Thank f@ck,” he greets, with a chuckle and a sigh all at once, and she closes her eyes at the sound. Allows it to sink into her skin and settle her. “Hi.”She bites the inside of her cheek at how eager and happy he sounds. She doesn’t know why she has resisted calling him because the conversation immediately starts to flow effortlessly as they catch each other up on their work weeks and the stupid, mundane stuff nobody else in their lives cares to listen to.It isn’t clear how the segue occurs, for it happens so naturally that she almost misses it, but she does know that she is the one to ask what he’s wearing.It is said offhandedly, intended mostly as a joke, as a way to acknowledge and move on officially. But he inhales sharply in response, murmurs yeah? in that gravelly, husky way that she only allows herself to think about just as she’s about to fall asleep. And before she can think, before she can even begin to talk herself out of it, yeah and already has one hand under her shirt and is positioning the phone just right so her other hand is free to slip underneath her knickers.  *  And just like that, it becomes another part of their routine.They text each other every morning and every night, and various times throughout the day in between. And some nights (most nights) he whispers all the filthy things he wants to do to her in her ear, all the things he would do to her if he were there, and she gets herself off from just a bit of pressure to her cl@t and the ridiculous sound of his voice.And, also just like that, she starts to allow herself to miss him in a far more visceral way than she ever thought possible.There is not a day that passes without contact with him, and while it wasn’t wildly uncommon before, she knows he is taking it far more seriously now. Making a calculated effort. She never asks him why or allows herself to contemplate the answer, either. The passing of time is marked by exchanges of memes and gifs and reels with the sole purpose of making the other laugh. They FaceTime and talk on the phone about anything and everything, no matter how menial or insignificant. Some days, it's just tidbits of his day, a picture of spilt coffee or a view that is just for her. On others, he uses their messages as a journal entry of sorts, sharing with her his innermost thoughts and wildest musings, the longing he feels to belong, and, one time, the way a random stranger reminded him of his father, and how the resemblance almost drove him to tears.The postcards start arriving soon after this—whatever this is—starts.One from every location with the familiar messy loops and smears of his handwriting scrawled across the back, the content always some variation of wish you were here..It is ridiculous how happy receiving them makes her, and a bit pathetic, she thinks, as she starts to eagerly check her mail when he arrives at a new location. They provide herself with something tangible, something she can physically hold on to, and she doesn’t allow herself to think about why that fills her with such joy. In fact, she does not allow her to think too much about it at all.Every one of them is kept on her fridge, and she cannot help but smile every time she sees them.  *  He tells her once, in the midst of whispering to her, in explicit detail, just how he dreams of eating her out, that he longs to be able to see her, to taste her.Penelope comes to those words, recklessly and embarrassingly fast. She is breathless as she comes down from the force of her @rg@sm, but also from the faintest swirl of fear lingering in her gut over the sheer power his mere words have over her.The next time, Colin is more direct when he asks to see her.His voice is desperate, near begging, and she almost gives in. Instead, she deflects and distracts. Whispers the filthiest things she's ever said over the line. Listens as the cadence of his breathing sharpens, as the pitch of his moans intensifies, and he loses himself to her. It is laughable, she knows, that seeing each other is where she draws the line, but the idea of baring herself completely for him feels like too much and entirely too vulnerable.Colin knows, of course. In sync with her in almost every way.He does not ask again, but he does continue to push.Quietly and somehow always in the most non-invasive way, when she least expects it.“What are we doing, Pen?” he sometimes asks. He is always laughing a little, the sound a bit breathless and light in that post-orgasmic haze as he floats down from his high.Years before, when she was a far different version of herself, Penelope wrote the textbook on living her life quietly, never asking for too much, never daring to dream of wanting too much. Old habits are the hardest to break, beaten paths the hardest not to follow, and she has years of therapy and self-work that have taught her that it is okay to be present, to be loud, to ask for what she wants.But in this, she feels unable.He waits, and waits, and waits for her response, always so very patient with her.It is an opening. An opportunity to have an honest conversation about the potential redrawing of those necessary boundaries.When she opens her mouth, the words always die in her throat.“It’s okay,” he always says, so soft, so calm, so resigned. “It’s okay.”  *  A few weeks into whatever this thing is between them, she is greeted with a series of texts, rapid-fire like he does when he is really excited about something, in the middle of her workday.
  Colin Bridgerton to Penelope
17 July 2025
[13:18]
Colin Bridgerton: GUESS WHATThe second and the third are a series of question marks.The fourth is a screenshot of a flight itinerary dated three days from now.It catches her by surprise, so much so that she has to do a double-take. She sends back obligatory exclamation points in response and checks her calendar, confirming that his assignment isn’t supposed to be over for another two weeks. It hits her then, out of nowhere, that he has been gone for two and a half months and for half of that time, they have been doing… whatever this is. She should call him, she knows, and would have… before. But now, the bit of excitement she always feels at the prospect of seeing her friend in person again is replaced by a heavy sense of dread.Her thumbs pause over the keyboard. The dread spreads and grows into a tinge of panic that catches in her throat. She swallows it down.Penelope: You’re coming home early? Those dots appear and disappear very quickly. She reads back her text and cringes, noting how it sounds…not very nice, rude almost. She quickly adds a few subsequent texts of ?!?!?! and emojis to soften the tone.Colin Bridgerton: Yes
Colin Bridgerton: The last stop of the itinerary was scrapped. I decided to take some leave instead of another assignment 
Colin Bridgerton: I wanted to spend some more time at home
Penelope: Exciting!
Penelope: !!!!!!!!!!!!!He is uncharacteristically slow to reply.Colin Bridgerton: You don’t sound very excited, Pen
Penelope: Don’t be daft. Of course I’m excited!!! I haven’t seen you in almost three months. 
Penelope: Busy day at work
Colin Bridgerton: You sure?
Penelope: Of course
Penelope: I have to run to a meeting. Let's talk specifics soon, ok?He hearts the message and goes quiet.  *  The panic lingers with his silence for most of her day and well into her evening.It’s Thursday, which means dinner and drinks with Eloise, and by the time she strolls into their favourite pub, the sight of her best friend and the familiarity of this routine are both welcomed and a relief. Eloise surprised everyone by following Anthony’s lead and going to law school, and surprised no one by turning down a job at his firm and the private sector altogether in favour of activism work. She is overworked and underpaid, but the work brings Eloise to life more than anything else has before.Growing up, Penelope used to envy this part of Eloise—how she is who she is, in any space and at any time, without reservation. Then she realised Eloise carries the same insecurities, the same self-doubt; she was just taught how to persevere in light of them, while Penelope was taught how to shrink herself into whatever other people felt she needed to be. Eloise was the first person to understand Penelope’s insecurities regarding what other people thought of her, and was also the first person to say so what? Be who you want to be, and f@ck those who don’t like it. Penelope had a life before Eloise, of course, but it is hard to decipher the details amongst the haze of sadness and loneliness. They spent much of the last decade growing separately, venturing down two very different paths, but always managed to come back to each other.There are no secrets between them—except for all things pertaining to Colin. Eloise knew of her crush, of course. Would tease her mercilessly about it when they were thirteen, and Penelope had hearts in her eyes every time she looked at him.  But as Penelope grew up, she tried to convince herself and Eloise that it was just a crush. That it would not last. That it did not last. Eloise is the only one who ever believed it.As Eloise drones on and on about the drama unfolding between two of her interns, Penelope wonders how she would react if she knew that Penelope was… doing whatever it is she is doing with Colin on the regular.And then Eloise changes the topic to Colin so swiftly, with that mischievous Bridgerton glint in her eye, and Penelope thinks she knows.“Colin’s coming home early. Did he tell you?” she asks nonchalantly, fingers tapping against her wine glass in a move that is meant to portray boredom, but is calculated. Penelope can feel the scrutiny of her friend’s gaze as it pores over her.Penelope nods. “He did.”“My mother is pleased, of course.”“Naturally,” Penelope tuts. “He is the favourite.”“Yeah, and the f@ck@r never allows us to forget it, either.” They both laugh, but the lilt to Eloise’s is a pitch higher than normal, so Penelope is already bracing herself when Eloise asks, “So you are keeping regular contact with him then?”“No more than usual,” Penelope shrugs. She is satisfied with the not-quite lie, but reaches for her glass and takes a long sip of her wine to cover any inconsistencies in her tone. “Why?”There is a long moment where Eliose appraises her in a way she probably learned from Daphne once upon a time. Eventually, she just shrugs and says, “No reason.”The subject changes easily, and they move on, but a sense of foreboding settles over Penelope and drives the panic that has been lingering since the morning to start to increase again. She feels like everything around her starts moving in slow motion as her thoughts race, and her heart begins to pound against her rib cage. She finishes her wine and quickly pours another glass just to have something to do with her hands.Very suddenly, Penelope feels like an absolute idiot for starting this without a proper exit strategy. For starting this at all, really. They had managed to have a conversation about it once or twice, always at his insistence. Penelope feigned nonchalance to match what she perceived to be Colin’s, and they had been unified in their decision not to overthink things and to keep it simple (her suggestion) and to be in the moment (his suggestion). There had been no discussion on what would happen when they shared the same physical space with one another again, as that would have gone against parts one and two of the aforementioned agreement, and at the time, that felt very far away. A part of her always thought it would have ended well before that impromptu deadline came to pass, becoming something they didn't talk about it, but just moved on from when things met their natural end. Penelope can see now, with the absolute blinding clarity of hindsight, how f@ck@ng stupid that was and also that it was likely by design on both their parts.Because if they had thought that far ahead, they would have had enough sense to have never done this at all. Right? Hours later, when she is finally home, exhausted from the wine and the anxious mess of her thoughts, she texts him.
  Penelope to Colin Bridgerton
17 July 2025
[23:05]
Penelope: When you’re home we probably shouldn’t, right?It doesn't matter what his answer is, because Penelope has already decided. They shouldn't. They can't. This mess they've created is one thing. They've crossed some lines, but she does firmly believe those lines can be redrawn. They are adults. They overindulged. It's fine. Everthing is fine. They can move past this. They can survive this.If they were to continue now, in person, she knows that would not be true. Things would be messy. And painful.It’s after midnight in Johannesburg, but there is barely a delay in his reply.Colin Bridgerton: Shouldn’t what?She rolls her eyes, but can barely contain her smirk as she imagines him grinning stupidly to himself with that same Bridgerton glint in his eyes that Eloise’s held earlier.Penelope: You know exactly what I am referring to
Penelope: Don’t be an @rs@Those blue dots appear and then disappear for longer than usual.Colin Bridgerton: We aren’t going to do anything you don’t want toPenelope scowls at her phone. What kind of f@ck@ng non-answer is that, she thinks, and types out exactly that as a response, but then deletes it.Penelope: It’s a bad idea
Colin Bridgerton: Is it?
Penelope: Isn’t it?
Colin Bridgerton: If you say so
Colin Bridgerton: Probably
Colin Bridgerton: Yeah
Penelope: Let’s not make it weird then?
Penelope: Keep it simpleWincing at her pathetic attempt at levity, she quickly fires off an obligatory ‘lol’ text to follow. He doesn’t answer right away, the seconds it typically takes him to respond stretching into minutes, then an hour as she readies herself for bed. She should call him, probably, to get a read on his tone of voice to fully assess the situation, to fully assess him, but she is too much of a coward. She doubts she will like what she finds.His reply comes when she is already asleep.Colin Bridgerton: Sounds like a plan, Pen
  
  

    
      
        
        
          The next update will be Monday! At the latest! Maybe sooner if my baby cooperates.We will be checking in with Colin, whom I blame entirely for this not being the one-shot it was planned to be. My sweet sadboi would not stop yapping.Kudos and comments feed the muse and are so very much appreciated 💛'
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