SUE: Take a Break

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny took in a slow breath as she waited for a response. She watched the way Lucy’s dark eyes traveled down, and how she did so made the Brit’s smile grow. Her teeth grazed lightly across her lower lip, but as she became aware of the beginnings of an instinctual reaction – and how she was told not to do so – the movement faltered.

The Brit knew the details of her own room, and she knew where Lucy’s gaze shifted to. The lonely bookshelf in the corner. A logical place to look. As it was connected with her response. Although it put a very different set of thoughts into the Brit’s mind. The memories associated with that bookshelf. She hadn't been able to touch it for weeks at one point, simply because what she felt – re-experienced – every time she did.

But her attention was quickly drawn back to the moment as Lucy spoke. Penny’s eyebrows raised in alarm. Teaching. A joke. Her lips pursed on instinct. “It’s a very well respected profession.” She couldn’t help but to defend the career she desired to go into.

However simple the action was, Penny was caught up in the way Lucy’s lips pressed to her forehead, but before she could get too caught up, the Australian had shifted, which in turn made Penny shift as well. She sat up, a hand instinctively resting on Lucy’s waist. “What about you?” She asked slowly, dark eyes focusing on Lucy’s. “What do you want to do?"

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy hadn't meant for the connotations of her explanation to come out in such a way. "I didn't say it wasn't." Lucy pointed out, the corner of her mouth pulling into something of a knowing smile. Nevertheless, the inevitable happened and the subject was thrown back at her. She should have expected as much. Really, she'd worried for it.

"Not sure." She replied, and for the most part it wasn't a lie. The nonchalant way she tried to brush the subject off wasn't exactly going to be enough to deter her counterpart, and she knew that much.

So she moved on. "I'm not ragging on teachers, y'know." She started, drawing the hand away from her waist. Momentarily, she brought it towards her mouth and pressed her lips to the back of it before she inevitably let it go in favour of hauling her short back on.

"My mum's a teacher." Lucy offered, her eyes purposely focused elsewhere as she worked to button her shorts. "Not a PhD owner, or a literacy major. But she still does it." Breathing a sigh, she rested her hands against the bed behind her to keep her up, but she still didn't look at Penny as her tongue ran lightly between her lips. "So don't think I don't get it. Or that I think it's anything but important."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It surprised Penny to hear the reply Lucy gave; she had assumed with her personal track record of schooling, the Australian had a distaste for teachers and all things related. But the way she smiled made Penny not question it. She believed her.

She had every intention of pressing on. Asking more about why the ink manipulator was unsure as to what she wanted to do. But she couldn’t.

As Lucy moved to pull her shorts up, Penny’s eyebrows furrowed together. Then as she buttoned them, the Brit couldn’t help but to frown, nose unconsciously crinkling. Lucy’s plan was effective; Penny was completely captured by the way her hands worked the button of her shorts, and distraught because the movement was backwards.

Why was she doing that?

And as her dark eyes moved to try and read the answer in her counterpart’s expression, she again found herself caught up in everything Lucy was. Her breath faltered as the Australian’s tongue lingered between her lips. This was just unfair.

Still, she had tried her best to follow, and even caught that Lucy’s mother was a teacher. “What subject?” She asked. Short. Direct. She genuinely wanted to know, but even more so did she feel the urge to undo everything that Lucy put the effort into doing just then.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It was rare for Lucy to be relatively oblivious to the things Penny wanted. Usually, the Australian was directly attuned to her needs. Because Penny was never subtle, and Lucy's mind was used to assuming the worst before anything else. But here, while working a type of defence, she thought of little else.

Finally, she turned her head and glanced towards the psychometrist when she asked what she'd asked. "Sometimes you teach more than one," Lucy pointed out, "It's a generalised degree." There was a small amount of time where Lucy could stand having absolutely no physical connection with her counterpart, and it had already passed. So she searched for her hand again, drawing it back to her mouth as her lips brushed the back of it; "I had her for history."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny usually offered few to no reactions for anyone. It was easy, really, to hold in her thoughts and emotions behind an emotionless expression. But when it came down to Lucy, Penny’s usual tactics were useless. It was impossible to hide her emotions around the Australian. Especially frustration.

And Penny was certainly becoming frustrated. She pressed her lips together briefly, taking in a breath as she felt her hand be taken again. Her free hand extended, brushing lightly along the line of her thigh, over the shorts she felt the need to put back on, before resting at the small of her back.

“Mm.” Penny nodded, catching more of the distraction in her counterpart’s tone than anything else. Still, what she had said made sense. She’d like to question it further. Just not right now.

The last thing she wanted to think about was Lucy’s mother. Penny pulled her hand back slowly, turning it and pressing her palm to the side of her face, fingers curling into her hair. She leaned forward, her free hand curling into the material of Lucy’s shirt as her lips brushed against the her counterpart’s. Her lips parted, honestly trying to continue the conversation, but she couldn’t find the means to do so before she kissed her.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy very rarely felt the need to talk about personal things. Her family included. She never seemed to give them a second thought, at least, not in the presence of other people. But her defensive demeanour had left the ink manipulator feeling the need to explain herself to the psychometrist. And she was trying to - really, she was - but it was something she couldn't do well when Penny was being, in short, Penny.

It wasn't the first time a remotely important conversation had been derailed; Lucy was simply unaware that her own movements had been the genuine cause of it.

She glanced back towards her counterpart when she felt her lean in close in tandem with the hand against her cheek. She felt herself drawn forward as much as she could be when her hand held onto the material of her shirt so imperatively. Lucy kissed her back willingly, because when did she not, but the lighter qualities the psychometrist was giving was jarring against the rest of her physical movements. Reaching forward, she curled her fingers around her neck and offered light pressure. Whatever they were talking about would evidently have to wait, because in the same motion, she breached the minimal distance to kiss her first.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny was interested in Lucy’s family, honestly. Neither of them talked about their families often, or rather, at least not to each other. Penny kept her home life in New York relatively quiet, because she didn’t find it worth talking about, and she had never heard Lucy really speak of her family before. It was just bad timing. The Brit blamed Lucy; she proved to be a great distraction. She ruined it.

But in no way was Penny complaining, especially when she felt her counterpart’s reciprocation. It forced her pulse to race; in response to the pressure against her neck, Penny leaned inward. Her tongue ran the line of Lucy’s lower lip; anything to get more of the Australian.

When she pulled away, the Brit took in a sharp, desperately needed breath before pressing her lips to Lucy’s neck before she had a chance to continue talking.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy briefly toyed with the idea of stopping to ask what brought this on. She was sure it wasn't the conversation at hand, but she couldn't argue against the fact that simply knowing something she didn't about the psychometrist was a little enthralling. It also made her jealous to know that Penny was pretty clear about where she wanted to go in life, whereas Lucy was both stonewalled by her inability to graduate and her indecisive nature.

She didn't really have time to think on the subject when Penny was acting like she was, and Lucy was thankful for that.

Lucy forced herself to breath, but it proved to be difficult. It always did, but something about this was different. The moment her counterpart pulled away she tried her best to take advantage of the time, and so she opened her mouth to speak. But with the feeling of her kissing her neck, all that passed her lips faltering breath that filtered into an a light moan she couldn't hope to suppress. So her grip tightened on her neck unconsciously, her nails digging into her counterpart's skin on instinct. This - she - was unfair.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny could honestly say she was curious about Lucy’s life. Despite the amount of time she spent with the Australian, Penny felt she knew little about certain aspects of her life. She wanted to learn more about her life, but to do so without getting caught up in Lucy was a hard feat to accomplish.

Because despite the earlier implications the Australian might have made, she very clearly wanted to stay. The fact within itself was enthralling, just as so much of Lucy Serrano was. She continued a trail of heated kisses down the line of Lucy’s neck, but the movement faltered as she made a noise like that. The Brit closed her eyes, letting out her own wavering breath across the Australian’s skin.

In those moments, Penny knew she couldn’t handle Lucy. She was far too enthralling, but it was hard – impossible – to stop. She didn’t mind the nails that dug into her skin, instead taking it as encouragement as she brought a hand down and unbuckled the belt Lucy had only just put on.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Note: FtB

With her back against the bed, Lucy took in a weak breath. The light still dwindled with nothing but candles; no nearer to a fix as they likely should have been. And despite the way the psychometrist had been so aggressive, Lucy couldn't help the way she settled with her. The way she looked at her.

Still-staggered breaths forced her chest to rise and fall in such an expressive manner. Because she always made it so difficult to maintain.

She loosened the hold she had on her counterpart, fingers trailing into her hair before slowly sifting through the dark locks she adored so much. As much as she wanted to ask why all that happened in that particular moment, she couldn't manage a single word passed her lips. All she could do was look.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny leaned forward, lightly pressing her lips to Lucy’s. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now; the candlelight provided was enough to see. To look at her. And as she did, she caught the Australian’s gaze. How she looked back at her in return.

Her dark eyes took in everything Penny’s didn’t. They held onto the details, noticing what was normally overlooked. Just as she had noticed Penny herself. Normally, the Brit felt uncomfortable held under someone’s gaze, but when to Lucy Serrano, it was different. She was different.

Her fingers traced along the blade of the sword, when she reached the hilt of it, her touch lingered for a few spare moments before trailing downward again and taking the ink manipulator’s hand. “Do you think you want to go back there?” She asked; the question was seemingly random but as Lucy’s uncertainty with what she wanted to do entered her mind, she wondered. “To Australia. When you finish school.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy found great comfort in the slow, gentle way Penny's fingers traced the weapon on her arm. She didn't move, save for the way she forced herself to breathe. She felt if she didn't consider the way she breathed, she simply wouldn't. Her attention was far too invested in the psychometrist to think for herself.

The question forced her eyebrows to twitch once, but they barely raised. As if she didn't have the energy to feel such overt surprise. It was a tender subject, but in that moment she felt nothing but comfort.

"I don't think so." Lucy replied lightly. She knew that was putting it lightly. "I've never liked Hammel because I never had a choice. Well, I mean, I did-" She paused, pursing her lips at the relevant memory, "It was here or Kocher. Here made more sense, but it was still a fucked decision to be forced into." Pursing her lips lightly, she wore something of a contemplating expression. It was a difficult question she hadn't put much thought into. "I have a whole year to make that call. And a lot can happen, so... I dunno yet."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny wasn’t sure what kind of answer to expect. By no means did the Brit assume her counterpart to say she’d either stay or go back. A year was relatively far off, but if she was sure, Penny did want to know, too.

When she did reply, Penny patiently let her explain. Despite the meta population being so low, it seemed strange not to have a school in Australia, but she supposed that it made the most sense to attend Hammel, even if it was on the opposite side of the globe. It had to have been hard; Penny couldn’t possibly imagine.

So she didn’t know, and Penny accepted that, but she couldn’t help but to find a small amount of comfort in hearing that she didn’t think so. She had no idea where she’d be – where this would take them – a year from now, but she knew that she was thankful the Australian humored the idea of staying.

Her fingers continued to trace the length of the sword idly as she gave a nod. “A lot can happen.” She agreed.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

There was a lot Lucy could have said to answer the question. She could have explained the disdain she felt for the place she came from, but that wasn't the question. She wasn't asked if she wanted to go home, but if she wanted to return to the country. Truthfully, she chose to take it so literally, simply because it meant not delving into the subject right at that moment.

She kept her dark eyes focused on the way her fingertips moved along the tattoo she wore. How the proverbial wings of the weapon broadened as if to stretch before filtering back into place once more.

It was the first one she touched. And the first time anyone had truly cared to touch.

"I'm happy," Lucy reasoned, her voice light; quiet, "Where I am. Right now."

She didn't dare glance up to try and meet her gaze. She couldn't even consider the chance that she would. "That matters more." And the future was something she could deal with when it inevitably found her. Or she found it.