LUST IS NOT LOVE
YOU
LUST IS NOT LOVE and Penelope Brooks knew this, but when Peter's hands were tangled in her hair and his hips were pressing her against her bed, she forgot all about that phrase. With Peter's heavy breaths against her ears and a heat rising between her legs, she forgot every phrase that she had ever learnt.
She could tell he was experienced, no one can just kiss, or touch or feel like Peter can without it. The white-lie of him not being with anyone since her lingered in the back of her mind. Sure, she had been with flings, but never physically with them. It was different on Peter's end. Her fear of him knowing she was inexperienced kept poking the back of her mind. His fingers danced over her drawers as he pulled them down her thighs, a tingling sensation ran through Penelope, his touch felt euphoric.
Lust is not love, but this was.
Knock, knock, click and twist!
Peter and Penelope practically jumped apart from each other, as Martha entered the room.
"I knocked, you can't get-" Martha stomped into Penelope's parlour, but cut herself off as she unpacked the scene in front of her. Soft white sheets that were usually pristine and laid upon a made bed were draped over Penelope and Peter's figure. A corset on the floor, his shirt nowhere to be seen. "What are you doing?" Martha asked.
Penelope held her breath for a second, trying to catch it. Her long blonde hair fell over her chest, her cotton bodice thankfully still on and concealing anything bare from her younger sister's eyes. "Nothing!" She said a little too forcefully.
"I may be ten, but I'm not daft," Martha crossed her arms, "I was born at night, not last night" Peter laughed at the attitude that coursed through the younger Brooks sister.
"We were just about to lay down for a while," Peter interjected, handling the situation much better than Penelope did.
"I know you're lying and you were going to build a house without me," Martha softly stomped her foot, "I'm tired of being left out, I would like to be included just once! I am valid,"
"Sure, yes Martha, you're valid," Penelope waved her off, "What do you need?"
"Amy March fell into the lake this morning,"
"What?!" Penelope sat up, pulling her drawers back up under the sheets, "Who told you that?"
"Hillary from my class," Martha rolled her eyes, "I ran into her this morning when getting the post for mother,"
"I have to go and see them,"
"You only want to go and see Jo," Martha began to swing on Penelope's door, her hands gripping the door handle, "I am actually friends with Amy, I deserve to come"
"Do you ever stop talking?" Penelope pulled her skirt up and over her legs. Peter sighed as he picked her corset up from the parlour floor, he knew that there was no stopping her, that Martha was right; she was going to see Jo, not Amy. She would go and check on Amy and then spend the rest of the night, pining after Jo. Sometimes he swore it was Jo that Penelope was courting and not Peter, but technically he had never asked her.
Penelope sat on her bed as Peter laced up the back of her corset, she missed his fingers pressed against her back already, but Jo needed Penelope. She just knew it.
"I must go, Peter, I'm sorry," Penelope shoved her arms through the sleeves of her top. The flared out wristlets, folding out from inside of themselves. "My parents are home, they won't mind if you stay," She buttoned up the last blue cuff before toeing her shoes on.
"It's okay, I'll see myself out," Peter smiled, resting his head back on top of Penelope's feather-filled pillows. He always found them more luxurious than his own, more expensive.
"Mother, can you please arrange a carriage!" Penelope shouted out her parlour door. Her voice echoed through the hallowed halls of the Brooks home.
"I want to come!" Martha yanked on Penelope's arm.
"Ugh! You're so aggravating!" Penelope pulled her arm away from Martha, "If you can get ready by the time the carriage is here, you can come," Penelope walked over to her wardrobe.
"Thank you!" Martha rushed out of the parlour, the feet pounding against the wooden floors. Many overcoats, skirts and dresses hung delicately in Penelope's wardrobe. She pulled one down and placed it over her shoulders, tying up the front in a neat bow.
"She's certainly a character," Peter rested his hands behind his head.
"Try living with her," Penelope shot Peter and glance over her shoulder before giving herself one more glance over in the mirror, good enough. "I have to go, but stay as long as you would like,"
"Are we still on for tomorrow?" Penelope's head quickly turned around to look at Peter... Tomorrow... Did they have something planned? As if he could see the cogs turning in her brain, Peter huffed. "You are supposed to come over with your family for dinner?" More of a question than a statement.
"Peter, I rearranged my plans with Jo for tomorrow evening, just you told me too" Penelope had never raised her voice at anyone! But she was close too. Peter sat in silence, another sigh falling from his lips. Heavy silence.
"The carriage is here and you're not ready Penelope!" Martha's voice echoed from downstairs.
"I have to go," Penelope shook her head, leaving her room. As her small heeled shoes clattered against the mahogany staircase, a lightbulb went off in her head. Turning around she quickly rushed back up towards her parlour.
"Penelope! The carriage is waiting!" Martha shouted, the open door allow a few snowflakes to take refuge in the entryway of the Brooks estate.
Penelope rolled her eyes as she opened the door back to her parlour.
"What are you doing?" She stopped in her tracks. Peter was stood his back to her, his hands held in front of her. He slowly turned around, her emerald ring enveloped in his fingers. Her grandmother had gifted it to her before her passing, it was priceless to her.
Peter stammered as he was caught. "I was-"
"What were you doing?" Penelope stepped forwards, her hand held out in front of her. Peter sighed and dropped his head slowly.
"I was going to surprise you," Confusion flashed over Penelope's face. "For your birthday, I was going to gift you a ring... but I wasn't sure of your size,"
An involuntary smile fell from her lips, "Really?" All frustration of their previous conversation forgotten.
"Really," He nodded, "It's alright, I can get you something else,"
"Peter," She put the ring back into his hand, "That is so incredibly sweet of you,"
"Penelope!"
Another huff Penelope let out. "I have to go, but thank you," She leant forwards, placing a soft and delicate kiss on his cheek.
The carriage ride was quick, a back way to the March house being found in the previous weeks in Penelope's many visits.
Martha bounded from the carriage, not even bothering to knock on the door.
"Martha! That is incredibly rude!" Ethel scolded as she followed her daughter inside, dusting the snow off of her coat. "Marmie?" She called out, finding her own way into the living room.
The Brooks women had become well acquainted with the March's and their home. Penelope and Jo's friendship bringing more connection than anticipated.
"Jo's upstairs," Penelope looked over to Beth sitting at her piano.
"Oh Beth how are you?" Penelope walked over to her and wrapped her arms around the younger girl, "Is Amy alright?"
"The doctor came, he said she wouldn't even catch cold," Beth softly played some keys as she leant back into Penelope.
"Penelope!" Marmie came down the stairs, taking her into a soft embrace, "Thank you all for coming, you did not have to travel for us," Marmie walked over to Hannah and hugged her too. "Jo is upstairs by Amy's bed, I think she could use a friend,"
"That's exactly why I'm here," She smiled, "We'll talk later Beth," She rubbed Beth's arm before heading up the stairs.
"They have the most special of friendships," Marmie sat down at the dining table, "It's beautiful to see... If only all friendships were as great as theirs,"
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