A/N: Okay, so I'm switching over to an actual couple. XD Oh my goodness, you would die if you heard the actual back-story of Julian & Penelope. *sighs* (since I'm guessing most of you haven't read the book and are just blessing me with your presence via review xD) They're more traumatic than Romeo & Juliet, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. Anyhow, the point of this story is to give them a happy ending, even if it won't leave as big an impact as the tragic one did. I swear, their story is still looming over me, and now that I've found a soundtrack for the book that the author specifically assigned to it, and listened to the song dedicated to Julian and Penelope, it just…*sighs* it blows my mind. Please read and review. This is only the prologue, so it won't be quite as long as the chapters will be.

*(If you have indeed read the book,) this fic starts right after Penelope has made Julian leave since her mother walked in on them.

Prologue –

The two breathed in sync with each other, their bodies twisting against each other in the throes of a passion that though was only meant to hold them over for the rest of the week, had been waiting for them their entire lives. Julian pounded into her core, pleasuring in how she held her head in the grasp of her delicate fingers. Their sweat mixed together through the rubbing and desperate scratching that kept the speed in a wild progression until their energy was spent. He would have scratches on his back from her for days, and he hoped for the rest of his life.

"Penelope," he whispered breathlessly, leaning down to capture his lips. She moaned into him and he decorated her face and neck with small peppered kisses just after taking in the depth of her passionate green eyes.

She moaned again, tightening her legs' grip around his torso. Her hands moved freely throughout his sandy blonde hair and softly landed at the base of his neck and soon after the curve of his shoulders.

"How shall I bear the next six days without you?" she asked breathily. He stilled for a moment before kissing just above the tops of her breasts and pulled his face up to look into her crestfallen eyes. He leaned his forehead against hers and murmured sweet nothings into her troubled soul.

"It's only six days," he said, yet his breath caught in his throat. He didn't want to think about another moment without her, let alone longer than a full day's worth. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. Seeming to sense his sadness, Penelope turned his face towards her from where he had looked into the distance.

"Only six days," she repeated. He nodded softly, looking helpless. Then, he kissed her on her perfect, pretty, pink lips. "I love you, Julian," she breathed. His head fell into the crevice of her neck.

"I will never stop loving you," he responded.

Penelope lowered his eyes to the ground as she walked the tremulous path from Jacinta's room to her own. The distance seemed to take forever and she didn't think she'd ever get there. She still felt Julian's warm arms encasing her and his lips traveling down the length of her body. But now she was chilled to the bone. Her mother walking in on them only moments after they had begun to rise from their lying position had startled her and scared both of them to death.

"Where's Jacinta?" the older woman asked after a beat, looking to have erased the scene before her. Her eyes pinned on her daughter's, dismissing the fact of her blatant nakedness beneath her neckline covered in auburn curls.

Julian gulped, afraid to say anything. Penelope burst out with an idea as to where her governess might be and her mother departed. The door wavered in its place as the older woman left the premises without saying another word and moved to the lower levels of the mansion. Penelope turned to Julian and found him staring intently at her, still scared.

"Go now, Julian. Go before my father comes," she whispered, hardly on a breath of air. His eyebrows narrowed ever so slightly. He reached his hand out and cupped her face. She leaned into it for a moment, suddenly shivering and on the brink of breaking out in tears.


"Go." she said, her eyes flashing open. She broke away from his embrace and stood to her feet, grabbing a near robe and tying it around herself. She picked up his clothes and threw them at him. He looked mournful but her eyes were full of unshed tears she would not let fall, and he put his clothes on in haste to sooth her.

"Whatever happens, I'll wait for you on Sunday on that train," he stated, praying to God that he was right. He would not leave her before making sure everything would still happen as they prayed it would. She managed a faint smile.

"I'll be there," she insisted, under heated breaths. "Now, go. Please..."

Within moments he was gone, and she sunk to the floor, muffling her cries in the cloth of Jacinta's robe.

His final gaze at her had warmed her spirits, but the feeling was gone as soon as she heard his quiet steps descending the staircase. She didn't even turn to look out the window and see his form retreating down the street. She worried for what her mother would do, or if she would react at all. If her father didn't find out, then all might not be lost. For all her vain and indifferent appearances however, Penelope guessed her mother probably would not keep the secret forever.

Penelope's eyes collided with her brother's when she was inches from her room. She stopped walking and he paused in his ascent up the stairs. It seemed all she could see was his golden brown eyes. Everything else faded away, and she thought he knew – that he had known for awhile, even if it had only occurred now.

Her lips parted, and his eyes looked away. He began to walk again after that, gently pushing past her on the way towards his own room. He murmured a goodnight, Penelope when he was near the end of the hall, but all she could do was close her eyes in silence. Her hands found the knob of the door leading to her room and she stepped inside, locking the door behind her.

It was the coldest, longest walk of his life. In Penelope's embrace he had made a home, and now he felt as though he were a walking ghost.

It should never have happened. Had they been smarter, been thinking more clearly, they would have seen the dangers of acting in the throes of passion where, while unlikely, it was possible that someone other than Penelope's governess, Jacinta, would walk in on them. Six days seemed unthinkable though. Every day, every moment would be worth it once they got to Paris, but six days was an eternity until then. Every moment apart was an eternity, and he felt blind without her.

All possible hopes he'd imagined and almost strived for growing up evaporated into the one hope of being with Penelope. She was all he wanted, all he would ever want. There was nothing else, nobody else, and he couldn't help but think they had sabotaged everything that night. He was fully willing to take the blame if it put everything behind them.

Would Mr. Aldaya find out?

Julian squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to imagine what might happen if somebody knew, someone inside Penelope's household. Everything that he was in that house was a lie, except with Penelope. Without her he couldn't breathe. From the moment he'd seen her four years earlier, he'd known she was all he'd ever want. And the more he was around her, he discovered she was what he needed – if nothing else, it was her. It was always her. In her blue dress and an almost dolled up Jacinta she'd traveled up the stairs away from him that first time he saw her. She was thirteen.

His steps were slow and lazy. He teetered to the side more than once in hopes that once his balance was regained he would be dreaming about Penelope, and when he woke everything would be fine, and in six days they'd be together forever. Whatever life had he imagined before her? With a helpless mother and a constant abusive father who wasn't even his own, Julian had thrived on nothing more than his stories.

Penelope shared in his stories. She read books as he did. She gloried in the stories he told, found the tenderhearted, sweet, precious theme in the morbidity with which he spoke. She saw the lost boy seeking a home. She saw everything, and never had a second thought of what they were. They were Penelope and Julian, destined.

Loud noises were heard loudly in the background. Julian heard his father shouting, throwing things, cursing obscenities at his mother, and his eyes closed in anguish. Nobody was perfect, he knew, but his life was a mess, a disaster, a place only demons and devils sought out for comfort. Penelope was the shining light in the darkness – his perfect match and his savior.

I should have stayed…he repeated to himself over and over from the moment he left the Aldaya mansion, even more so once he was within range of his own home. Not only was it safer to be by Penelope's side than in his own home, but if he was terrified, he could only imagine the chilled fear running through her.

He wondered what horrible sin he had committed that would grant such possibilities of tragic endings that his love for Penelope could possibly induce. But who else would she be if not the angel of his life, the purpose in which he lived? He could find no answer. A million times he told himself he would go back to her, would pull her out of the house and run away in the night. He would force Miquel to somehow change the dates and times on the train tickets and get them away while nobody was watching.

But he had no courage, and forced himself to listen to reason. He had many professors over the years, all speaking of wisdom and logic and the need to not react on one's emotions. So, Julian stilled himself and found himself squeezing in through the back way of his family's cluttered, pain-filled apartment. The light in his room was off and he willed himself to sleep in order to block out his mother's screams. He could not sleep. But neither did his mother's horrid screams, only ending in the darkness of the later night, keep his mind from slipping into subconscious form. She was not the cause. This time it was not her heated, frantic breaths that drove him mad with insomnia.

Penelope. Penelope. Penelope.

Shining auburn hair, glistening green eyes, perfect soft skin, and beating heart for only him – for always only him. She had expressed it many times, and he had done the same. They were light together, untouchable light. And his last image of her stained his blurry vision. Her teary green spheres prodding him to leave from whatever danger might lie in that house. He could think of nothing else. There was nothing else, he reasoned. There was only her, only Penelope. And for the sharp pain of it being all over, he could not sleep. He could not even dream.

A/N: Hope it's hauntingly intense enough for you to keep reading. ;p Please review! =D