Falling Away Penelope Douglas Novels & Stories

Penelope Hampson —more commonly known to her friends as Penny —fitted the key into the door of her little flat and stepped across the threshold into the miniature hall. The door slammed behind her in the sudden draught startling her out of a day dream. She walked into the sitting room and viewed the unlit fire, shivering. The closed door and the chill of the room seemed to drain all the warmth from her body —and suddenly that other, special, golden warmth —from her heart.

"The snow feels like real sugar!" Penelope walked down the stone stairs of the porch with long, slow, and graceful strides. She had unbuttoned her midnight-black wool coat, remaining in her dark cashmere sweater, her long silver hair falling past her waist in loose, heavy waves. A genuine, beautiful warmth completely softened her features, a soft smile breaking across her pale lips as she watched her daughter giggle.

"Just give it a shot. You’re good at capturing emotion." I hesitated, then took a deep breath and read the scene. The passage was in a female character’s point of view. A quiet, inward monologue that revealed her feelings for someone she recently fell for. The problem? That person loved someone else. And no matter how much she wanted to confess, she knew she would never be enough. I scoffed under my breath. It was too good. Classic Joaquin. The way he captured longing and restraint? It was hauntingly beautiful. I stared at the cursor blinking on the screen.

It seemed that Penelope's video was even more impressive than Miranda’s photos. She decided to see for herself how good it really was. Penelope's video was not on the same platform. Curious about all the buzz, Miranda downloaded the app and found that the first recommended video was Penelope's. The video featured a voice-over of the most iconic lines from Penelope's hit drama. She stood in the snow, with snowflakes swirling around her. Holding a wilted flower, she turned around, and a single tear rolled down her cheek, capturing a profound sense of heartbreak.

I cannot think of any adjective because I can't think straight right now! All I know is that Penelope Avery is really a goddamn rich person and I can't imagine how she feels living into this huge house every single day. The old woman motioned me to sit on this huge sofa. Uggh. I can't keep count of how many times I used the word huge since I entered their mansion. "Do you need anything?" she asked. "No, I'm okay, Maám." I answered. "I really just have to meet with Penelope." "Ohh, right. Wait here, I'll call her."

He was ninety years old. I’m sitting in my parlor waiting for an update from Rogue and having a sip of Cachaca when Penelope walks in. She looks beautiful with her string floral, flannel romper. Her long, firm pale legs and slim body look tempting. Clearing my throat, I take another swig of my drink in hopes of calming my libido. For christ’s sake, she’s a child, and I have to keep reminding myself of this matter.

“You… What did you do?!” Penelope was a very conservative, traditional woman. She did not approve of his marriage with Sharon, but she could not allow him to sleep with another woman before they divorced, either! “Penelope, wouldn’t you say Simon should take responsibility and marry Rebecca? “Dad, do you want to see what Simon did?” she said, trying to show Douglas the photograph. Douglas turned his lined face away, waving her off. “Enough, enough. Since it’s come to this, Simon, hurry up and get that divorce then take responsibility for Rebecca.”

Wayne said, pulling her gently but firmly. Suddenly, Penelope stopped resisting. She bent down, fumbled with the straps of her heels, and pulled them off. With a grunt, she threw them, sending them skidding up the beach into the darkness. "What are you doing?" Wayne asked, exasperated. “P-please… help me get my heels back,” Penelope slurred, crossing her arms. “But you… you threw them yourself,” Wayne complained. “P-please, Wayne… I dunno what I was doin’… I’m… I’m drunk,” Penelope pouted, swaying slightly.

I pressed the phone to my ear, my knuckles turning white. "Why did you sever the bond?" I spat into the receiver, not giving her a chance to breathe. "You still have the nerve to call me after committing treason?" "Julian of the Blue-Claw." Penelope’s voice was flat. Cold. There was no fear in her tone. No trembling. She sounded like a stranger reading a notice from a billboard. The woman who used to cower when I lowered my voice was completely gone. "I have the formal dissolution scroll in my hand," Penelope said. Her voice lacked any trace of the pain I was currently fighting to hide. "Meet me at the boundary stone in the neutral zone. Let us end this pathetic game."

Sabrina whispered, her voice cracking. “It’s Clara,” Penelope said confidently. “I’ve seen her lurking on social media, commenting on old photos. She’s obsessed with Benedict, and she’s clearly threatened by you.” She stood with heels clicking sharply on the shiny floor, going toward the window. Before her spread out a city skyline of glittering beauty, to lose herself in for an instant. She gripped the tablet in her hands, feeling the sharp edges of it press into her palms, grounding her amidst the chaos of thoughts swirling inside her head.