High Love and Emotion

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

When Lucy had left Penny's dorm that afternoon, she'd gone straight back to her own. She'd bypassed any and everything in her way, gone back to her room and just stayed there. Nothing was worth leaving the solitude she had there. Except that everything in that room didn't feel like hers any more.

She couldn't really remember that last time she'd slept alone. Not since she inadvertently asked her to stay. Every night, she stayed. Or Lucy stayed there. And now, she figured, that was finished. The immaculately made bed her counterpart had tidied was just another reminder, one she reached out and shifted with purpose the moment she took note of the neatened corners and folds. She felt like she'd done this before.

Aside from that, Lucy made a point of reaching out to every surface she deemed too neat. Too tidy. She spilled the contents of a container of sharpies out onto her desk, letting the ink split from the plastic and dot the surface. Pour out and create its own shapes. She pressed her hands to the colour - blue amidst the black. She purposely drew the red away completely. her interest in the colour red had suddenly faded. When she lifted her hands, they were free of all ink, save for the occasional dried splatter of black that she chose to leave there.

In her closet, each folded, allocated pile became an incoherent pile of clothes instead. Again, all of it; she felt like she'd done it before. Like she'd been there before. She didn't need to be a psychometrist to recall the last time such destruction occurred.

When nightfall came, Lucy ran out of order to throw into disarray, save for one thing. Above her bed, the wall was littered with loose sheets of paper pinned into the wall itself. Drawings; muddled and random on their own. A pair of familiar eyes in particular stared back at her. Wide. Staring across the world, never taking anything in. Lucy stared back - longer than she likely realised - before turning and making her way back to her desk again. She sat down, dragging out a small sketchbook. She'd started a drawing months ago, and suddenly it felt imperative to finish it.

Her mind was subsequently calmed through the periodic nature of drawing with a pencil again. More so by the presence of her beloved little black and white bunny rabbit; out of the cage and on the desk. Threatening to chew the corner of the paper.

When she realised it was past midnight, she felt exhausted. But she didn't feel tired. Still, she closed the book, put Inky back in the cage and decided it was time to try and get some kind of rest. But the moment she settled into her bed, she struggled with everything. She pressed her hands to her face, forcing her eyes to close. Even the small set of lights that dotted Hyrule field were off, leaving the ink manipulator in total darkness.

Hours passed and nothing changed. She'd moved around significantly, wanting to find comfort. But there was nothing to take comfort in. Lucy rested her forearm over her eyes instead. Anything to block the world out.

But she couldn't. What she'd said wasn't something to be taken back. She didn't want to take it back, but she didn't want to have said it then of all times. She loved her, and she knew it now. But it wouldn't make a difference. It shouldn't have. It wasn't enough. She wasn't enough. She wasn't good enough. The cycle of thoughts easily became overwhelming, but there was nothing she could do about that. Not now. Not any more.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

She couldn't sleep, so tried to study. Even the idea of laying in her bed alone made Penelope's chest tighten. She couldn't bring herself to do it, let alone actually get a night's rest. Instead, the Brit spent hours at her desk, staring at her notes. Every page was rewritten in neat handwriting. And then rewritten again. Highlighted. Organized. Color-coded.

It didn't matter.

It wasn't going anywhere. She couldn't focus on something that now seemed so trivial. Even after hours, nothing stuck. It was just a job to keep herself physically busy, and it did it's job. Still, it did nothing to calm her mind. She was everywhere. Penny didn't need her psychometrist to feel the presence the Australian once had in her room. Her now very empty room.

Penny pushed herself from her desk as she stood. Dark eyes glanced around the tidy space she lived in. Had someone looked around, they could have easily doubted the messy Lucy Serrano had shared the room – the bed – at times. The Brit, however knew better. Every inch of her room was associated with the ink manipulator.

Her dark eyes traveled over the room. Her alarm clock; 1:46 AM. Over her bed. Up at the painfully white ceiling. And then to orange hand print on her wall.

She had to leave.

Instantly, the psychometrist went to her desk, opening a drawer and pulling out some paper work. Her fingers trailed along the edges of a folded up letter before picking it up and leaving her dorm.

By now, the steps to Lucy's dorm were well memorized by Penny. When she approached the dorm, Penelope twisted the unlocked handle, pushing the door open as she crossed the common room and went straight to the Australian's door.

There, she stood a moment, lips pressing into a hard line as she held up her hand to knock against the hard surface. Sucking in a deep breath, the Brit put her hand down, choosing not to knock as she opened the door.

It was dark. There wasn't a flicker of light in the ink manipulator's room, and it immediately made the Brit wonder if she was even there. Her hand quickly reached for the light switch, flicking it on as she caught sight of the mess of Lucy's room.

And more importantly, the girl laying in bed.

“I--” Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at Lucy.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The sound of the common room door being opened was completely lost on Lucy. The silence in her room made it evident, but she didn't register it. Her mind was stuck on a constant loop; constantly questioning her motives. Her words. Her inevitable feelings and the way she'd presented them. Her worth, though that was hardly new.

However, when the door suddenly opened Lucy chose not to move. They didn't knock. If she stayed still, they might honestly believe she was sleeping.

When the light was switched on, Lucy's eyes were tightly shut. Even if they were closed, she still felt the light. The sword tattoo on her draped forearm was still turned - despite her best efforts, she couldn't get it to shift back. It stayed there, hilt embedded into her palm. As if at any moment she could pull it from her own skin and keep herself safe.

But that voice was absolutely undeniable, single sound or more. She felt the overbearing urge to look, but she didn't. Instead, she moved her arm away and turned onto her side, choosing to face the wall. Nothing she herself could say would fix the dwindling situation, so she turned her back on it.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny shut her eyes tightly the moment she faltered. She knew the words she wanted to say. She needed to say. Still, they caught in her throat. Her fingers curled around the paper in her hands, creasing it slightly as she opened her eyes again.

As her dark eyes fell back on the ink manipulator, Penny immediately caught sight of the sword imprinted on her arm. It had completely turned, and her eyes traveled down the blade towards the hilt on her palm, as the ink itself was ready to defend Lucy. Penelope pressed her lips into a hard line in response; she knew she hurt the Australian by remaining silent, by only showing up now, but to visibly see her tattoos respond to it irked the psychometrist.

And then Lucy had moved. Turned her back to her. Shutting her out.

Penny tilted her head, back straightening. The response was less than welcoming, but she couldn't stop.

Again, Penny took in breath as she closed the door behind her and took a few steps forward. She hadn't quite reached the bed, but still the Brit held out her hand, extending the piece of paper towards Lucy. She was close enough that if the Australian wanted, she could have grabbed it. “Read this.” she finally got out, “Please.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy opened her eyes to glance at the wall beside her. She brought her hands together - the only other movement she offered within the silence. She glanced down at the speckled ink on her hands. Small, almost insignificant markings, like it'd been airbrushed onto her skin. It wouldn't move, either.

The door closed, and Lucy felt herself tense up, because she heard footsteps. She didn't leave.

She exhaled a audible shallow breath when Penny asked her to read something. Assuming it was the thing that got them here in the first place, she furrowed her eyebrows, intertwining her hands as she shut her eyes again. It was incredibly harsh for her to come here for something like that. Her assumption didn't make sense. Neither did the fact that Penny would even come here. It was supposed to be the other way around.

It was always the other way around. Without fail.

Still, she wanted to answer. To speak the fact that she wasn't going to. That she didn't want to. But as she dropped her jaw, nothing fell out. She didn't move. She held her breath.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny stood there for moments, waiting for any response from the ink manipulator. The exhale wasn't lost on the Brit, and she hoped that it was a sign that Lucy would consider her request. At least this time the Australian's sound was some for of acknowledgment. However, it was the only reply she had gotten from the ink manipulator, even as she stood there in silence, continuing to hold the letter out.

After a time, Penny let out her own breath to match the ink manipulator's. Unfolding the paper, she brought her hand back to herself. Her fingers ran long the edges of it as she started to read it.

“Miss Blaise,” she started, glancing up briefly at Lucy's back before continuing, “Congratulations, I would like to inform you that you have been accepted into the University of Vermont.” Penny dropped her hands, again looking over at Lucy.

“I can't.” she stammered, “I can't leave you.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Within such proximity, Lucy could still hear her breathing. She could still register every minute difference; every meaning.

The simple sound of her voice was enough to tear right through the ink manipulator. It was the first thing she noticed - how she sounded. How it felt to hear her talking even after it'd only been hours. Hours ago, they were screaming at each other. The thought drowned out any comfortable simplicity that'd happened beforehand. And now, this. Of all places, she was talking about the university here. She exhaled a slow, uneven breath.

On instinct, Lucy turned again. She hauled herself up on a hand, dropping her gaze to the floor initially. The thought that she believed she couldn't leave the ink manipulator was a hard one to follow; "You always do." She started, running her free hand through her hair, "You can't change plans for me." In the break, Lucy finally managed to offer her eye contact. Even in the mess that was this situation - the distance between them - the corner of her mouth twitched. She wanted to smile at the sight of her.

"Because I can't follow you. I can't go after you. Not any more. I can't leave." Lucy managed, trying her best not to let her gaze waver, "I failed."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny felt the corner of her lip twitch upward as Lucy sat up. It had been hours since she had last seen the ink manipulator, and just looking at her sent a light wave of relief through the Brit. As if it were a sign that she hadn't given up on the psychometrist yet.

As Lucy spoke, Penny immediately wanted to argue; to defend herself. That she knew what she could and could not do, but she found herself faltering as Lucy stressed her final word.

The Brit's eyebrows twitched together in confusion as she looked back at Lucy. She failed. Failed what? Penny opened her mouth to question the girl, but she quickly closed it again upon realization. She couldn't leave because she failed.

She pressed her lips together in a hard line, her own eyes threatening to waver as she resisted the urge to look away. “Lucy,” she finally stepped forward, hitting the edge of the bed as she set the paper down. Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach out to the Australian. “You don't have to come after me,” her voice dropped, taking on a gentler tone. “Because I'm going to be here.”

With the statement, Penny dismissed the idea of being unable to change plans for Lucy. The psychometrist finally reached forward slowly to run her fingers across the line of Lucy's jaw. “With you.”

She took in another uneven breath, doing her best to maintain the eye contact between them. “Because I love you,” she said, “And I'm not leaving you.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

There was a brief moment where Lucy felt hesitation over the whole situation. Like she should never have turned around. Never have answered. If she'd been persistent, this whole thing might have gone away. There had always been a lingering pressure that this girl would feel different because of her own situation. She was graduating. On time. And Lucy had missed her chance to do so for the third time.

Still, she watched her come closer, unable to tear her attention away any more. She realised in that moment just how much she missed her, and only hours had passed.

Her breath fell shallow when Penny actually made contact. The familiar feeling of her fingertips along the Australian's jaw did exactly what it always did; it helped put her at ease. It forced her features to soften.

When the repetition hit her, it felt physical. As much as it usually concerned her to hear such reciprocation so quickly, this time she didn't carry ill feelings towards it. She stared back at her British counterpart, searching her expression for fault. For any signs of doubt. Nothing. So Lucy pushed herself away from the bed to stand in front of her. Shaking hands pressed against her cheeks. Lucy looked confused - stuck in such a clear state of disbelief. Until she closed her eyes, leaned in, and kissed her.

Within such a move, the ink manipulator felt every inch of nervous, uncertain energy fall away. Every sliver of doubt. Every insecurity she carried throughout the last few hours seemed to dissipate. Still, she forced distance - a minimal, almost unmentionable break where she could still feel her lips brush against her own.

"I love you," She breathed against her, breaching the insignificant distance she'd just made with another small, purposeful kiss. But she stopped again, enforcing such a break to exhale the words against her lips; "I love you." And once more, she kissed her again.

As it always was; once started, it was hard to stop.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As the words left her mouth, Penny felt her chest tighten and she took in a wavering breath. Her dark eyes focused on Lucy, trying to determine the Australian's reaction in her expression. As Lucy stood, Penny held her ground, a thumb running lightly across her counterpart's cheek.

She felt Lucy's hands shake against her skin, and instinctively the Brit tilted her head into the touch. Relief washed over her as Lucy kissed her, and Penny immediately reciprocated without hesitation. Her free reached forward, fingers curling around the material of Lucy's shirt like a life line. She couldn't let go.

So she didn't.

Penny leaned forward, lightly kissing her again before allowing the ink manipulator to actually pull away. A rare, genuine smile pulled at Penny's lips as she heard the words. Felt them against her lips. She wasn't given the time to respond as Lucy kissed her again, making her breath catch in her throat. And then she said it again. The meaning behind it having the same effect on the Brit; her heart rate jumped erratically as she pulled Lucy in to meet her kiss.

Her hand slid between the Australian's shoulder blades, pressing her counterpart against her as she kissed her. It was only when she needed to breathe did Penny allow herself to pull away again, and even still, the Brit didn't allow herself a breath; “I love you.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy allowed her to pull away, and so she opened her eyes to look back at her. To see her in that moment felt like the most imperative thing in the world. But before she could even breathe, her counterpart was gracing her with the all important phrase again.

Instantly she smiled wide, in the most genuine way. She breathed an involuntary laugh as she tentatively allowed her trembling hands to leave Penny's face and trail down to her shoulders. She had to laugh in disbelief. Because she never expected such words to leave the psychometrist's mouth, much less her own. And for her, no less.

Her hands slowly moved again, this time grazing her hands across the familiar form in front of her, down to the small of her back. She pulled her inward. Held her close.

Allowing her the chance to breathe, Lucy leaned inward towards her neck. There, she pressed a kiss to what exposed skin she could find. Slow - she allowed her lips to linger within the moment as she struggled to breathe.

And in time, she opened her mouth to speak, offering the only other three word sentence she could find worthy of saying in that exact moment; "I believe you."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy’s smile made Penny’s grow, and she couldn’t help but to let out an amused breath at the way her counterpart – her love – laughed. Really, the Brit couldn’t blame Lucy for laughing; she felt she understood it. The idea of either of them saying those imperative words, and to each other of all people. It was laughable, but inevitable.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back slightly when she felt familiar lips kiss her neck, leaving more of an opening for the ink manipulator. It caused the Brit to take in a sharp breath, her grip on Lucy’s shirt tightening as she allowed herself to be pulled in closer.

She couldn’t breathe. And she couldn’t get close enough.

Upon hearing the words Lucy offered, any attempt at breathing completely faltered. Her chest tightened as she closed her eyes tightly. There was nothing she could say in response; nothing that could articulate what she needed to. Slowly, Penny released her hold on the ink manipulator’s shirt, her hands drawing upward to Lucy’s shoulders. She remained silent as her arms wrapped around the ink manipulator, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Never had Penelope thought she'd have a reason to stay in Pilot ridge, and now she couldn't imagine leaving.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It was so incredibly rare to get a sliver of an amused sound from the psychometrist’s mouth. So when it happened, it caught Lucy’s attention more than anything else in the moment. It was what she would denote as the purest expression of happiness from Penelope Blaise she’d ever gotten.

Lucy understood the weight of the words she’d offered. She’d felt the air escape her when the words seemed to finally hit her. The meaning. The intent.

When she felt herself drawn in, Lucy reciprocated the embrace given to her by her counterpart. She kept herself hidden within the nape of her neck, eyes closed. She felt the desire to speak subside with each passing second, but in turn, she felt an irritatingly imperative string of words rise in her mind. And so lips parted, brushing across her skin.

“I thought I lost you.” She admitted, raising her head slightly to press a kiss against her ear.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny rarely felt the desire for physical contact, but with Lucy it was different. Needed. Imperative. Her hold tightened when she felt Lucy's arms pull around her, and a relieved sigh passed her lips. She found comfort in the way Lucy pressed against the nape of her neck; the feeling of her. Had it really only been hours since they had last seen each other?

Penny tilted her head, pressing her face into Lucy's hair, lightly kissing it. She closed her eyes, taking in the silence and simply allowing the built up anxiety and stress that had taken over her life for the past twelve hours to wash away with a reassuring touch.

“I hope you see that you haven't.” Penny mumbled against the Australian's hair, a her lip twitching upward as she felt familiar lips press to her ear. “I couldn't last a day. How would I be expected to last months?”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy Serrano notoriously found difficulty in silence and stillness. But somehow, within that moment she found the means. She didn't shift; not when she felt Penny seemingly relax into the moment. And she didn't speak; not even when she chose to offer such an important statement. The only thing Lucy gave was a short, involuntary breath of laughter at her choice in words. If only she could understand the irony.

The more she stayed in the comforting confinements of her British counterpart's arms, the more Lucy realised the severity of the situation. The weight behind her words. The weight behind hers, too. Lucy barely offered such affirming words to anyone in her life - at any capacity - and now she found herself struggling to stop. And beyond that, she believed her. Penny didn't need to reciprocate the phrase for Lucy to know she believed her in return.

The Australian drew herself out of her psychomtertist's hold; just enough to be able to catch her eyes. To study and almost scrutinise the expression she wore. Lucy felt the need to offer something of an apologetic phrase or look - only moments ago, she'd been ridiculously harsh. Hours ago, she'd been more harsh. She'd misunderstood, and she'd dragged them into this.

Instead, she worked to relieve that tension from her face.

As she thought to speak, she couldn't think of what to say next. Nothing fit the moment or the intention she carried well enough; nothing was good enough. Not for her. And not for this. Still, she dropped her jaw with the intention of saying something. But this situation felt like it'd stemmed long past words.

"Let me." Lucy finally said, as lightly as she was able.