Penelope Smith (guardedline) wrote in feinted, @ 2011-12-19 03:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, penelope-smith, septimius-rookwood |
Who: Penny and Sev
What: Sev catches her staring at a girl at Garrett's party and she decides to prove to him that she's straight by sleeping with him. This is the aftermath
When: Saturday night, right after Garrett's party
Where: an empty classroom
Rating: R for talk of sex and general angst (and internalized homophobia on Penny's part)
Status: Incomplete
Penelope had never been one for romantic fantasies. She hadn’t expected sex would be a sign of love or a promise of forever. She was too jaded to hope for fireworks or anything even remotely meaningful, not when every kiss she’d had left her unmoved and counting the seconds until she could safely end it. She’d always expected that her first time would be a way to keep a boy, to keep up appearances, and she had accepted that she wasn't destined for anything more. Proposing to Sev that she prove to him that she was straight hadn't especially conflicted with any of her ideas on how she would lose her virginity. She had always known it would be to prove something, not something she actively wanted for her. There were worst things in life though than blending in and trying to be like everyone else. It was better than doing what she knew deep down she really longed for, she told herself.
But she hadn’t expected it to feel so wrong. The feel of his skin, the angles of his body, his weight pressing into her, nothing felt right, and when it finally happened she only closed her eyes tighter to stop him from seeing the tears she felt building up. There had been brief moments where had successfully coaxed a positive reaction out of her, but she spent most of it wishing she was anywhere but here, doing anything but this. When a hand came up to cling to him to pretend that she wanted this, she had been questioning why this couldn’t be easy for her, why all of the other girls could fall so easily for boys and so easily into bed. When she looked at him it was to force herself not to think of pretty foreign girls and to remind herself that she could never have them. But throughout most of it, she had been passive and quiet, doing just enough to let him know she was consenting even though she could feel herself slowly beginning to hate herself. She had heard that sex would come naturally, and that your body would instinctively know what to do, but that never happened. Instead, for much of the time she had stared up at the ceiling as she tried unsuccessfully to convince herself to enjoy this.
And then it was over. She didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or cry because it was over and she hadn’t changed. She was supposed to want boys. She was supposed to be fantasizing about and waiting for this moment. Sex was her last effort to prove that she was normal, and it was supposed to be a way for her to realize that her problem was just that she hadn’t found the right boy or done the right thing. This was supposed to end all of her doubts about her sexuality that she’d had for years. But it didn’t. The only thing she was certain of was that there was something wrong with her. “I told you that I’d prove that I like men,” she told him as she turned away from him to dress. She struggled to keep her voice even. Both of them knew she’d proved no such thing.