Work Text:
What’s a Little Dare Between Friends?
It was supposed to be nothing but a silly dare. A drunken dare between two childhood friends finally reunited after months apart. A childish impulse let out thanks to too many champagne glasses and giggles that shot through his bloodstream with a feeling of euphoria.
For him, it was homecoming.
It wasn’t so much that Colin Bridgerton was drunk on alcohol; it’s the height of tackiness to over-imbibe at a fundraising gala. His mother taught him better than that. His siblings would never let him live it down, and he would never be so careless. No, his current intoxication stemmed from his inability to breathe in anything but the fragrance of citrus and vanilla wafting off her auburn curls. His heart thumping at an irregular speed due to her proximity while they exchange barbs and quips with those in attendance. Each laugh bursting out of her lips like a shot of liquor he downs.
Heady, hot, exhilarating.
God, he had missed her.
To say he loved travelling was an understatement, but it was becoming increasingly clear to him that, more than anything, Colin loved coming home . Journals bursting full of untold observations, waiting to be revisited again and again (with a specific red-headed best friend at his side reliving the trip with him). Bags and suitcases filled to the brim with handpicked souvenirs and gifts carefully chosen for his family, and a specific gift singled out for one person who is not family, though Colin knows his brothers and sisters view her as another sister at this point, something Colin could never see her as… Pen, as his sister, is so severely wrong his gut twists at the thought. Not to mention all the dried and preserved snacks and foods unique to the countries he’s visited (that managed to pass customs) that he could later feast on with his best friend at his side of course, Pen currently doesn't have the means to travel so Colin is always sure to bring a bit of his travels back to her.
Most importantly, he always looked forward to the warm welcome that was the full-body embrace of his dearest friend. Her soft curves molded to him perfectly, he would rest his head on top of her head as he breathed her in and squeezed her tighter. Their embrace was all the better when it came with the knowledge that Penelope would be there, warm and receptive to all the details he only ever saved for her, that she wouldn’t brush him off as if he was silly for his wanderlust, or worse, a self-absorbed braggart, filled his body with a rush of affection so pure he was oftentimes blown away by the intensity. After so many years jet-setting Colin could admit to himself that the best trips were the ones where he had Penelope on the other side of his phone responding to his texts, DMs and Facetimes.
This last trip only proved how true that was.
He had been miserable.
It wasn’t that Penelope had completely ghosted him. She had replied a few times, but this trip had been different. There had been more missed calls with fewer attempts to call back. She had been slower to respond to texts, sometimes several days passed before she would even deign to answer. No pictures of updates from home, no late-night calls and long texts of banters and jokes. It had left Colin strangely bereft of what they used to have because something had obviously changed.
And he didn’t like it. He wanted what they had again. Actually, in truth, he wanted more.
In those achingly lonely silences, he had resorted to rereading their old messages, looking at old pictures, and scrolling through her private and curated Instagram that she sparingly posted on. He was left ragged with the realization that she was beyond lovely, inside and out, and he was the fool who was half a world away from her.
So seeing her now, in front of him, was a balm to the constant irritation that was making itself known in her absence.
As Colin stood, reminiscing on all the changes between them while also basking in her presence, he failed to realize that he had been staring at one art exhibit for a little longer than casual interest demanded.
“I dare you to kiss her,” her random proclamation was followed by a melodious giggle before she continued. “You seem so enamoured it’s only fair.”
A marble statue was before them, but Colin had not realized it. He let Penelope’s voice bring him back to the present. He flushed slightly, not wanting to confess to the tumultuous whirring of his thoughts and the way they rushed about. Switching from flashes of what they had, what was lost and ultimately mixing with dreams of what he wishes they could become.
Instead, he blinked and took in the statue before them. It was a sculpture of exquisite beauty, depicting an unknown woman with a lush, voluptuous body in a pose of utter relaxation and confidence. Her assets were proudly on display, with more marble moulded to seem as if she was simply covered with a sheer lengthy robe. Her pouty face was a picture of mischievous glee, enticing in the secrets she kept and dared you to discover.
She was stunningly sensual and Colin huffed in a mix of slight amusement with sharp disbelief over Penelope’s breathy dare.
How could she not see the resemblance she had to this work of art before them?
The way the marble was cut and sculpted with such devotion to the dips and curves of the female form? The plump rolls just so, and hips that were so lush and soft, he felt his fingers twitch. Astonishingly this unknown goddess was the exact same size and proportion as his Penelope. The fact that the sculpture was on a mounted display column was the only reason he was in closer reach of the lips he had been dared to kiss. He would still have to lean down some, but not as much as he would have to were he to kiss the real deal. He risks a quick side glance at Penelope’s lips and licks his own before focusing back on the details of the sculpted face.
Round and seemingly soft, Colin knew that it would be cool to the touch, and while the face within kissing distance didn’t look anything like Pen, everything else was so close to her…he could pretend.
And wasn’t that so pathetic of him?
He wanted her so badly, but the thought of ruining whatever remained of their friendship kept him frozen. Unable to act and regret it for the rest of his life.
A part of him wondered what exactly Penelope was thinking giving him that dare. She knew of the Bridgerton competitive spirit and how it would never allow him to back down from a dare.
Did she do this on purpose? What was she getting out of this?
In the end, he was too curious not to comply and a dare is a dare, after all. He would never take the coward’s way out and pass on a dare.
But if he’s to be pathetic, he won’t humiliate himself on his own. This is where having the experience of siblings comes in handy. Mutually assured destruction was always on the tip of the tongue.
“Sure, I’ll give you the show you want and kiss her…” he grins as he catches Pen’s wide eyes flashing with some emotion he could not decipher. “But only if you give her tits a lovely little squeeze,” Colin smirked. “After all, I can’t be the only one in danger of getting banned from the museum for lewd behaviour.”
If Colin didn’t know her any better, he would have assumed that his slightly riskier dare would be outrageous enough to get Penelope to back down. In fact, there was still a slight chance that the fact that they were in a public location to be a strong enough deterrent. Never mind that they had sneaked away earlier to the closed-off section of the museum, with no one the wiser to their blatant breaking of the gala’s rules. ‘ No trespassing closed off exhibits’ and ‘ No touching the exhibits’ , what were rules, if not suggestions, meant to be broken every once in a while?
But he did know better. She was competitive too, and braver than most realized.
And she started this dare first.
Colin wanted her to accept. He wanted her to act in a sensually shocking way in front of him. To purposefully show another aspect of herself that he could devour.
The mental image of Penelope’s dainty hands rubbing and caressing the generous chest on display was already making him shift uncomfortably. The marble was so that it gave the impression that the slightest squeeze would make the “flesh” ripple. It was mastery at the highest level, and Penelope touching it would only enhance its value in his eyes. But this was a dangerous road to go down. He reaches down to surreptitiously readjust his pants and inhales deeply. Christ, but a few seconds of simply thinking of her in such a way had him fighting the lust clawing its way up his body. It was all-consuming but he couldn’t burn just yet.
Something was in the air, a tension building, a prickling in the back of his neck that alerted him to changes on the horizon.
A deep breath is exhaled, breaking his thoughts once again. “Okay.,” she whispers.
How could a mere whisper echo so loudly in the silence between them that it practically resembled a shout?
Colin’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of what he was about to witness.
“But you first!” Penelope bursts out in the quiet moment she finds herself in after agreeing to his rebuttal. How did this get switched around on her so fast?
Penelope downs what little champagne was left in her flute that she had been nursing the whole time they wandered the empty exhibits away from the chaos and bustle of the party Violet had organized.
This was supposed to be nothing but a silly dare. A childish dare between two childhood friends finally reunited after months apart. A ridiculous impulse is let out because being around him is like a drug, addicting and heady, and she is helpless to the giddy feeling he evokes. And she is only human, selfish and greedy for any scrap of attention he bestows upon her.
It’s truthfully shameful that any progress she has made in his absence to fall a little out of love with him collapses the second he is back in London.
For her, it is torture.
Sometimes she wishes she had never fallen in love with him, but she always regrets the wish as soon as it is formed because who is Penelope Featherington if she is not in love with Colin Bridgerton? At this point, the ache of loving him is so imprinted in her soul that to be without it would be like a missing limb. It would haunt her, to be sure.
She had tried so hard this time, no, really, she had.
She had muted his notifications so that she wouldn’t be glued to the phone and respond the instant he messaged her. She silenced her ringtones and forced herself to let his calls go unanswered and she refused to let herself call him back. She threw herself into her writing for both work and pleasure, writing endlessly to eat up all the time that was usually dedicated only to him.
She had to cut it off; She had to save herself from the incoming trainwreck that only promised misery.
They were getting older, and with every trip, every single time he left English soil, she was bracing herself for the inevitable day that he would return with some woman he would introduce to her as the love of his life.
It will be so utterly devastating to her very soul, and it feels so inevitable that her fear simply grows stronger as each day goes by.
So she tried, tried with all her might, to wean herself off his friendship. To give up those recollections of his travels, she so cherishes the feeling of importance under his remarkable blue gaze and the infinite rush of butterflies she has when he randomly messages her for no reason other than he was thinking of her. He has the power to make her feel unburdened and seen, and she wishes to luxuriate in the feeling for as long as she can before reality slams into her with the cold hard truth that he will never be hers.
These treasures that she had always allowed herself to keep now hurt her with the knowledge that they can never be more .
She was determined this time. No more special allowances for Colin Bridgerton.
He wasn’t even breaking her heart (he didn’t even know he had it.), she was the one who was doing all the breaking, and it wasn’t fucking fair.
Penelope was tired
So when she was invited to this Fundraising Gala raising money for art scholarships to underprivileged teens and youth hosted by none other than Violet Bridgerton, Penelope had made a solemn promise to herself. No alone time with Colin. Do not go into a corner gossiping, and absolutely no sneaking off for late-night meals and drinks.
…
She was so weak.
Damn him.
It should be illegal how charming and handsome and absolutely irresistible he is. She just couldn’t help but brighten up at the sight of him. Couldn’t help how right it felt to be near him.
God, she had missed him so much.
And now they are hidden in the shadows of an abandoned exhibit, still in the process of being set up for future patrons and visitors. How Colin always managed to find secret places for them to simply be was a mystery she never wanted to solve.
She wishes she could blame her random outburst on severe alcohol consumption; wishes she didn’t get caught up in the fantasy. He was magnificent, standing tall and still, his chestnut curls blending with the darkness surrounding them, only a few lights giving them the warm light to see each other and the marble statue. The one that he was staring at with such reverence that it touched her. She always knew Colin was a creative soul, she was the recipient of so many of his writings after all but with Benedict getting all the credit as the artist in the family, it was so easy to forget that Colin knew his way around the beauty of human creation.
Penelope stared at the sculpture and felt her heart give a lurch. She was beautiful, yes…but she was also round . Colin Bridgerton was currently being captivated by a figure that could very well share clothes with her had she been a living human being. Penelope swallowed dryly, her lower belly swooping and tingling. Has he always been into women with this figure? Didn’t he fancy the lithe and willowy women his older brothers always seemed to chase after? Does this mean he could desire her too?
Finally, when her dare was spoken out loud it was too late to take it back. She had wanted to see what Colin Bridgerton looked like kissing someone like her. This was the perfect way to satisfy her curiosity without all the painful complications of seeing him with another woman. This was the ideal way to see his broad stature against the small but plump figure. Would it be odd? Would it be sexy? Would it be right?
Penelope was desperate to know.
Colin had taken off his suit jacket a while ago, his white shirt slightly billowing, resembling a top often associated with a pirate costume that shouldn’t have fucking worked in this day and age but made him look like he had just stepped out of a Jane Austen film.
It was entirely unfair how gorgeous he looked, and now he was making it worse, pushing up the sleeves so his forearms could flex under the golden glow of small lamps. His tan skin was a stark contrast against the white of the marble and Penelope felt her breath catch as he finally leaned down, resting his arms on the flat surface that was the top of the column. His curls rushed forward as he tilted his head so his nose would slot perfectly against the goddess, his lips plush and soft, pressing against the immovable cold stone and dear god. He was a vision .
There, in the stillness of the night, Colin looked straight out of a whimsy romance film, as if at any moment, the true love’s kiss he just gave would awaken his love and break the curse that turned her to stone.
Penelope didn’t even think twice, her phone was instantly in the palm of her hand and with a few swipes of her thumb her camera app was facing Colin and a single picture was taken. No noise was made but her sneaky venture was busted by the flash illuminating the room in order to capture the perfection before her.
“Naughty girl, I didn’t know we were allowed to take pictures.” Colin steps away from the marble goddess to crowd into her space and look over her shoulder, his breath hitting the nape of her neck as he leaned down to take a closer look. Penelope couldn’t help but tremble due to his proximity, something about that sight she witnessed had unmoored her. She noticed everything, and it wasn’t only the kiss that had her breathless. It was the way that after staring at his lips, she had moved onto his hands, and that’s where the real magic was.
She had seen the way he had slowly caressed the torso, his hands following the dips and curves with such care, the way he outlined the belly before his fingers reached up to brush against the nipple. The statue remained unmoved, but Penelope shivered as if it had been her nipples brushed by his hands.
Penelope ached, she had never felt that type of reverence to her own body, and the fact that Colin could bestow such tenderness to the parts she's always hated about herself, was proving to be the final straw.
She didn’t think, didn’t question it. She just needed him. Needed him in a way she didn’t think she was capable of.
After all, how could she give any more of herself to him? How could he make her want him, need him more ?
Colin was still behind her, his body crowding into her space, making her feel small and dainty, two things she rarely, if ever, felt.
She turns around and, using the element of surprise, reaches up with her free hand and grabs the collar of his shirt, tugging it down with such a force that a few buttons snapped free, his chest hair peeking through. As soon as Colin was hunched down enough, Penelope dropped everything, the phone and his shirt in order to cup his jaw with both hands and yank him down for a kiss. Straining on her tippy toes for a mere seconds before a groan escapes Colin and he reaches down to lift her up.
Penelope doesn’t hesitate, her legs wrapping around his waist while Colin turns them around to the nearest wall. They both let out groans as the sharp contact against the wall disrupts their kiss, their heavy panting quickly silenced by the meeting of their lips again. Her hands have moved from cupping his jaw, splitting into two opposite directions, One dragging upwards, so she could clutch and cling to his curls that she often dreamed of playing with. The other hand slipping down and scratching the nape of his neck, enjoying the feeling of his whole body shiver between her thighs.
She could feel everything , his racing pulse, the way his body shuddered. They were so close, and between them all the lust they'd constantly locked down and hidden away from each other was finally making its way up to the surface. Unwilling to let itself be buried once more. Each reaction she managed to elicit somehow managed to rev up her own need, her own body burning up, her pussy aching and leaking. Friction, she needed more friction, and she mindlessly canted her hips and whined as she felt the clothed hardness press against her.
Penelope was in nirvana, each brush of his lips against hers, paired with the frantic grinding of their lower bodies was an addicting sensation, and when he attempted to consume her, his tongue teasing hers, his breaths inhaling hers, his mouth nibbling her ear and nipping her neck when the need for oxygen demanded he separate their lips. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, it was pure bliss.
If this will be the only time she gets to have Colin Bridgerton, she’s going to have it all. She’s going to get a piece of him and know for at least a little while what it's like to be wanted and desired by the only person that has ever mattered to her.
Christ , he was going to embarrass himself if Penelope kept mindlessly grinding against his already throbbing cock. He already couldn't help but meet her thrust for thrust; every time she pushed herself down, her soaked panties seeped into his slacks and the fact that he could feel the wet warmth had him a little more desperate. Those layers of cloth between them was the only reason he wasn’t already inside her.
How did things escalate so quickly? How did a kiss turn into a storm of kisses that led to them dry-humping against a wall?
Not that there was anything dry about what was happening right now.
In fact, it was very wet. She had already done a fine job of ruining her panties, and god, now he needed to feel it for himself. Reluctantly giving up Penelope’s lips, he found himself breathless at the sight of her swollen lips, still seeking him out as she whined at their separation.
“God you are exquisite,” Colin murmured as he used his weight to pin her to the wall more firmly and so one of his arms could be free to reach down to her most sensitive spot. It wasn’t but a few moments ago that he had been fantasizing about worshiping a marble statue simply because he thought Penelope would never be open to him worshipping her instead.
And worship her he would, but just not right this second. No, this second, he desperately needed to feel how hot and tight she would be around his fingers. Right this second, he needed to know what she tasted like and if she would be as delicious as he'd imagined?
“Fuuuuck, Pen,” He gasped, overwhelmed at the slickness dripping and spreading all over her thighs. “You are fucking drenched.”
He had to close his eyes and inhale, trying not to come at the mere scent that was purely Penelope mixed up with his, with the added bonus of sex making it the most delicious scent he'd ever encountered in his life. It was quite a feat, how he managed not to come at the way she was attempting to thrust against him, his weight bearing down on her notwithstanding.
“All this for me?” he couldn’t help but be in awe. Her dress had ridden up to her waist when he lifted her. But now his fingers slid over the soaked scrap of cloth hiding her pretty pussy from his touch and pushed it to the side, humbled at the way she was gushing for him.
He lightly felt his way, his gaze never straying from Penelope’s every microexpression. He blindly teased and petted her, leaning down and swallowing every one of Penelope’s moans as he circled her clit before dragging the tip of his finger and pushing in. Shallow thrusts, one finger then two and the whole time, he was captivated by the pure bliss that was Penelope in the throes of pleasure.
She clung to him so beautifully, his name a constant echo in the silence of the room, and it was quickly becoming his favourite song. He never wanted to stop. To make Penelope feel good, to have her crying out his name as if it's the only word she knows, it’s a sort of power he never imagined he’d have. If he thought he was intoxicated by her mere presence before, it was nothing to the intoxication he was feeling now. He would never be able to give this up.
No one would be able to see her this way, this open and needy.
No, this was all his. “My pretty Pen. Mine mine mine.” With every claim, he inserted another finger inside her tight pussy. One. Two. Three.
She whimpered at the burn of the stretch but he was quick to soothe it with more distracting kisses, his hand stilled as it became more and more drenched. Penelope was so soft, soft and wet and hot around his fingers. It was only a matter of time before Penelope begged for more, and he was only too happy to go back to thrusting his hand and feeling her clench around him.
Fuck, if only it were his cock, she’d be milking him dry this very second.
Mine. Mine. Mine. That was the mantra that was repeating itself in his head. She had him in a haze of pleasure that he had never encountered once in all his previous flings. As much as he wanted to fuck her mindlessly, to go at it like beastly animals in the wild, right now was all about her.
He covered her mouth with his free hand as her moans and cries were beginning to echo loudly in the room. The last thing they needed was unwanted visitors interrupting them before he could get her to come. This whole time he had been edging her, teasing and playing. Feeling around for what would make her twitch, clench and whine with need. Slowing, backing off and distracting her with more drugging kisses to cool her down. Or at least to pull her from the peak he knew she was close to reaching.. Penelope was sobbing, aching and trembling in his embrace. He was being a bit of a bastard, she needed him so fucking badly, and he was toying with her. He knew she wanted to scream, but before she could, his hand was covering her mouth and he was whispering in her ear. “Shhhhh, we cant be caught fucking in a museum baby, we can’t have anyone seeing what a wanton goddess you are.”
And fuck if she didn’t clench around his fingers as they lazily thrust in and out of her weeping pussy. “Oh, naughty little Pen, you’d like that would you?” Colin growled with delight as she tightened around his fingers.
Penelope had tears of pleasure running down her face, heaving bosom and ruched up dress bearing her pussy that was currently filled with Colin’s fingers. Her legs wrapped around him, her hands clenching and tugging at his hair. A lustful sight, a scandalous one. It was so fucking hot it was driving him mad.
“Fuck, you are so perfect.” He needed to see her come, she deserved a reward for being so perfectly needy. So debauched and clinging to him as he defiled her in public. He added his thumb to swipe against the nub of her clit with each thrust his hand gave. He made sure to cover her mouth, for the sounds escaping her were beyond hedonistic and he kept mummering into her wild red curls all the things he’s been meaning to say since he returned. “So perfect, so pretty, mine all mine, god look at you so absolutely wrecked and you’re only riding my fingers darling, how are you going to take my cock pretty girl? I’m probably going to have to stretch you out some more and make sure you can take it, pretty pretty Pen, fuck fuck fuck, come for me darling, that’s right, you can take it baby.”
Over and over again, his hand was aching, but the exhilaration of this moment made it all worth it. He couldn't help but be in awe of what he was witnessing. Each of Penelope’s muffled moans made his cock twitch. Each clench around his fingers had him dying to bury himself inside her. Her eyes glistening with tears and hazy with pure lust, a thing of pure beauty. Her normally milky pale skin of peaches and cream was flushed and rosy pink. He couldn’t see her lips but the sight of them swollen and plump from his kisses would never leave his mind. The only thing better would be if they were glossy with his come. Colin groaned, later he would make that a reality later.
“Come my darling, milk my fingers with your pretty pussy, come now.”
Penelope sobbed, her heart was going to burst she was so sure of it, the aching need that Penelope had become accustomed to in his presence was currently nonexistent. Because the man she’s been in love with her whole light was currently finger fucking her and she couldn’t fucking think. All she can feel is pleasure and it takes her a while to even register what he's babbling. He’s finger fucking her and filling her ear with the most delicious filth she’s ever heard. Every compliment, every bit of praise sent her into a hazy space she never knew existed. It was overwhelming, she felt safe, needed and wanted. She felt so good, so good, how could she ever give this up?
He added his thumb. Fuck fuck fuck. Penelope arched her back, whining at the sharp pleasure that pierced through the haze of want she was drowning in. She was going to come. Just like he was asking her to do, it seems Colin has finally realized one fundamental truth about Penelope. She will do anything if he’s the one asking.
She clenches up, mentally curling herself up into the tightest ball of nerves for the pleasure kept climbing and when she could no longer curl in. When she could no longer contain anything, she gives over to him.
She gives over and unwinds as her eyes roll to the back of her head, and she loses all sense of control.
He noticed the exact moment it happened.
The way the tension in her body coiled before the blue of her eyes became nothing but white. The way her legs which had been wrapped around him this whole time, relaxed and were limply hanging down. The way her pussy squeezed and gushed around his fingers. Drenching him, before she positively melted in his embrace. Colin grunted as he could no longer hold back, pleasure rushing through his whole body as his cock throbbed and jerked in the confinement of his pants, an embarrassing patch of wetness and the feeling of his own cum making a mess of his bottom half making him huff. He didn’t regret this, it would be uncomfortable walking out but there was no returning to the party for either of them.
He withdrew his fingers that were currently soaked with Penelope’s come and brought them to his face. He inhaled the scent of her before finally taking a taste.
“Fucking delicious.”
Colin’s heart melted at the serenity on Penelope’s face, and he couldn't help but lean down and drop some sweet kisses. Not only on her plush lips but also her chin, her cheeks and eyes, her forehead and her lips again. “Perfect, my sweet, sweet pen.”
“Are you okay Pen? Open your eyes for me lovely?” Colin shifted his hold, ensuring he would not drop the woman he was deeply in love with.
He turned them around so that his back was against the wall this time, and he carefully slid down to the floor. Holding Pen tightly to him and allowing her to sit on his lap, straddling him. Both of them hissed at the feel of her sensitive pussy pressing against his softening cock. As much as he would love to tease her some more, what he needed more than anything at this very moment was to be sure things weren’t irrevocably ruined between them.
Penelope snuggled deeply into his embrace, unwilling to leave the bubble of contentment she currently found herself in.
She melted, every part of her moulding perfectly to the sturdiness that was Colin’s figure. She preened with every sweet whisper, every soft kiss gracing her whole face. His hands attempting to detangle her curls were surprisingly soothing, his touch featherlight and soft, as if it were possible for her heart to grow any fonder of him. If this was heaven, she never wanted to go back down to earth.
Unfortunately, heaven was never granted for mere mortals.
Open your eyes for me lovely. Penelope couldn’t refuse such a soft plea.
Colin sighed with faint relief at the awareness in Penelope’s gaze. He softly gave her another kiss. “Hi,” he whispered, unwilling to burst this new bubble they found themselves. It felt so fragile, as if one wrong move, a misspoken word could destroy this treasure between them.
“Hi,” she whispered back. Her heart was pounding with the uncertainty of what was to come after this. How could they ever return to their normal after knowing what it was like to reach the peaks of pleasure together?
Colin squeezed Penelope tighter, reveling in the feeling of her in his arms. He gathered up all the courage inside him and let out what he had been wanting to tell her this whole time.
“Pen,” he took a deep breath. Surely confessing his feelings now was the only logical step, after all, his fear of fucking it up was more overwhelming back when he thought she didn’t even see him as anything other than a friend.
“Pen, please… that is I-”
God, why is this so hard?
“I wish for us to be more than friends. What we just did…I've been dreaming of you, craving you… needing you in a way I don’t think I’ve ever needed anyone before.”
He closed his eyes to gather every ounce of courage inside him for this final bit, the most important words. “Will you please be mine? Because I so desperately wish to be yours.”