Trust Fund Baby Colin Bridgerton Becoming The Trophy Husband Of Self-made Ceo Millionaire Penelope Featherington

Music To Watch Boys To

Chapter 2: Fuck it I love you

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

5:42 am

You think back to the drink you shared at the bar last night and the way he stared at you. You almost thought he could feel something more for you. Almost. Maybe, it was the vodka and you were just delusional. You glance over to the sleeping man in your bed, self-pity, and vodka so do not mix. You vaguely recall texting Chase “u up?” at 1 am as you left the bar. He was outside your door thirty minutes later wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a smug fucking smile. He annoyed you so much but in moments like this, he made you feel desirable. This is what normal people do, have regrettable drunk sex with questionable men, right? I mean who even needs love and intimacy when you’ve got an awesome job? Who wants a relationship to mess up and children to traumatize?

You walk to work, having placed all your faith on ibuprofen and coffee. He might be a fuck boy but hey, he makes good coffee. You notice that Amaro brought you a cup of coffee, great is this gonna be another thing, who’s even this fucking nice, you think angrily. He looks up from his desk and smiles at you, “Good morning.” You forget the ridiculous reason you were mad, that fucking smile, you wanted to melt but you compose yourself. 

“How’d the interrogation go for Fin and Rollins?” you inquire. 

“He immediately asked for a lawyer, Barba’s in there right now,” he said. “They’re cutting a deal?!” you whisper yelled. 

“If he confesses to all there will be no need for a trial and his victims will have closure.” Nick replies. “What about the school, do you think they covered for him?” you wonder out loud. 

“Maybe he’ll give them up to save his own ass.” Nick replies, then he asks, “Hey, where did you disappear to last night?” 

You look at him and try to lie, “Uhm… I went home and slept early. Y'know, it was just one of those days where all you want to do is crawl into bed.” Apparently with your fuck buddy from college. He puts his hands on his waist, surely buying the bullshit you were selling. 

Before you can dig yourself further into a hole, Barba walks into the bullpen and says exasperatedly, “He insists on having done nothing wrong.”

You reply, “Does he know the DNA matched his?”

“He claims it was consensual, and that she must have gotten mugged.” Barba replies.

Nick chimes in with, “She’s seventeen, she can’t legally consent.”

“He’s betting on the jury believing it's an honest mistake,” you guess, “we need to tie him to those other open cases.”

“I’ll update Liv.” Nick announces, heading for her office.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

3:09 am, Ohio

Today was supposed to be your day off but the sergeant sent you and Amaro to Ohio to retrieve the rape kits and have them tested in New York; while Amanda Rollins, who transferred from Georgia, and Fin were doing the same. You wake up from your nap in the car, you lose count of how long you’ve been on the road. You glance at him, hoping he thinks you’re still asleep. He looks so sad sometimes. He thinks he’s good at hiding it but you saw how the job affected him. He thinks he can save the whole wide world. He shows up for everyone and you just want to be that person for him. In a platonic, professional way. I totally wasn't falling for him. Uh oh, Oh no, oh I’m tot-. “You’re awake! You hungry?” he asks while getting in line at some fast food drive-through.

You get out of the car and head towards the motel to check in, you and Nick had been driving for almost nine hours. Truthfully, it was mostly Nick. “The NYPD put us in the same room, tell me you don’t snore.” you half-teased. After all that time in the car, you desperately needed a shower. You drop your bag and head towards the bathroom, “Dibs.” you call before shutting the door. 

You awake the next morning to find his bed empty, you notice a note on the nightstand that reads, “went to get us bagels and coffee, meet me in the parking lot at 9”. You glance at the clock, it's 8:23.  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he smiles as you get into the car, “you talk in your sleep by the way.” He looks over, you were too embarrassed to speak so you just shove a bagel in your mouth. You try to ask something but it comes out as gibberish. You swallow and try again, “Should we drop by the Ohio PD before reinterviewing the victims?” 

He replies, trying his best not to laugh at you, “Yeah, we’ve got to check in with them, and get the necessary paperwork sorted.” 

You leave Ohio at about 11 pm that night. Just before you reach New York, you stop at a diner for a bite. You discuss the case, and then Anastasia the movie. You recommended it a while back because it’s been your favourite since you were a kid. 

“I watched it with Zara, she really liked it. I liked the talking bat.”

“Of course she did, I've repeatedly said my taste is superior. What about the music?”

He laughs and declares, “They should be on Broadway.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying! I hate that it's not more popular.” You pout dramatically.

You try your best to remind yourself that this is work, not a date. He was here with you because he had to be, not by choice; but then he’d peer at you with those fucking eyes and you’d forget to breathe. 

Saturday, October 18, 2014

2:20 pm

You’re enjoying a quiet day off, rereading Pride and Prejudice. Your phone pings, a text message from Chase that reads, “Heyy :D)”. You ignore it, not in the mood for whatever it was that he was offering. It pings again, then again. You open it and read two new messages from Chase, 

“What’s up?”

“Do u wanna get dinner later?”

Intrigued, you reply, “Maybe, what are we having?” 

“Well u can have what my mama made :p ;)”

Is it possible to die via cringe? He continues, “jokin lol, I’ll cook. I’m told my pasta is not that bad”

“I’m in :)” you reply, what's the worst that could happen?

“I’ll send a car at 6”

Saturday, October 18, 2014

9:16 pm

You honestly can’t pretend you’re surprised he had you against the dining table, a hand up your dress. You barely touched your wine and for some reason, you just weren’t in the mood. You put your hand on his chest, shirt partially unbuttoned and you pull away from the kiss. You apologized and he said it was okay. You feel so dumb and wish you had stayed home. You decide to watch a movie instead. While he chooses a movie, you sip on your wine.

Sometime before the movie was over you had finished the entire bottle. You begin to drift off to sleep, naked and tangled up with him. You and Chase had been on and off since college, tonight was the first time you questioned if this was going somewhere. Did I want it to? Was this the key to getting over this totally inappropriate work crush? How much longer can I pretend that I didn’t fall for him?

we don’t emotionally regulate round here partna

whatever (it's eating away at my soul)

If she loves him, she’s his mom 🥹🥹🥹 man why was this episode so good 🫠🫠

my absolute favorite thing about lost is that it is genuinely, unironically, about the friends we made along the way

book!colin is always up in everybody’s business 💀

lana del rey was right. i am tired of feeling like i’m fucking crazy