In and Out of Mind

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Never before - at least, not as she knew it - had Lucy been caught staring. She'd seen her counterpart's eyes traverse the bare lines of her own form time and time again; recount the way it forced the colour of embarrassment to stain her cheeks. But to be on the other end of it was something that made her nervous, at first. She knew she should look away. Or look up at her face at best. But the shades, the difference, and the way she continued on made that impossible. Like she didn't care.

No, not that she didn't care. But that she realised the ink manipulator did.

Precise. Penelope Blaise was precise. The Australian brought her knees up to her her chest underneath the sheets, resting her forearms over them and her chin against that. For herself, it was a quick struggle with a set of skin tight jeans and whatever shirt she found herself that day. But for her, everything had purpose. Every choice had an on-flowing choice. Her own brand of thoughtfulness. Of care.

She snapped out of what seemed like a daze when Penny's voice cut through the silence. It was strange, to feel comfortable with no noise, but she found herself feeling so regardless of the thought.

"Yes." Lucy said, the single word passing her lips a little more forcefully than she would have expected it to. The daze, well and truly broken.

She left the comfort of the psychometrist's bed behind, standing beside her and pressing a hand to her shoulder before capturing the zip between her fingers. There, she drew it up with a fluent stride. The juxtaposition felt strange; Penny had lived in this dorm for what Lucy assumed was years and had managed to do this on her own. Why now would she ask for help? "There."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny was surprised by her own voice; it was a jarring contrast compared to the silence that they had found themselves settled in. She briefly wondered if she should have broken it at all.

But as Lucy stood, Penny found her attention dragged elsewhere. The shift of the blankets as it slid from her figure, leaving the disarray of sheets behind. Her breath held in her lungs as she stepped closer.

Penny shifted slightly, turning her open zip partially to the Australian as she felt familiar fingers curl around her shoulder; a startling contrast to how tightly she recalled she could hold on. Now, the touch almost felt delicate. As Lucy pulled the zip, Penny straightened her back as she felt it pass her shoulder blades. Just as carefully as she had done so earlier, the Brit pressed her palms to the fabric at her stomach, precise fingers adjusting it in the smallest of ways.

She turned again, drawing her hands away from her own form as she brought her gaze back to the ink manipulator. “Thank you.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Over her shoulder, Lucy glanced at the way her hands moved. How they worked the fabric of her dress to draw away any insignificant details that, to her, must have seemed out of place. Or like they very easily could have fallen out of place. She looked at the world with broad strokes; seeing, but never really seeing. But for herself, she saw everything. Attended to everything.

Slowly, she allowed her hand to fall from her shoulder and trail the line of her arm before breaking contact again. A vote of thanks never sat well with the Australian. She didn't know how to take it, especially when she'd done something so minor.

"Welcome," She replied, shrugging her shoulders once.

It was the first time she'd ever acknowledged the words with anything above two words; yeah, okay, or a tacked together phrase that encompassed the two. Yeah, okay.

"Fix your hair." Lucy pointed out, waving a hand towards her before choosing to sit at the edge of the bed.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

“That was next.” Penny replied, almost factually. It was the next step in the process of getting dressed. It always was. It was logical that way. And so, the Brit stepped towards a hanging mirror; it was easier than going into the shared washroom, where she risked having to run on her roommates’ time.

She ran her fingers through it carefully; it hadn’t gotten too out of hand, but she still took the time to thoughtfully straighten out the dark locks. Her gaze flicked over towards Lucy, whose reflection she could see in the mirror. There, it lingered a few moments, watching as her leg bounced from the edge of the bed. She rarely stayed still.

When her gaze returned to herself, Penny checked her own reflection once more before straightening her back and turning to face her bed. To face her. Her lips pressed into a hardened line. Because she was finished, and that meant the inevitable was coming. "You'll be here." She stated, choosing not to turn it into a question, because she had already confirmed it.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"I know." Lucy replied in turn. The details of the psychometrist's routine were practically ingrained into her memory now, and she liked to prove it where she could.

As she sat, she pressed her hands into the bed on either side. Soon enough, the therapeutic bounce appeared in her right leg, and she made no move to stop it. She glanced to the side, her gaze idly traversing the titles of her counterpart's books. She had to stop staring.

When Penny turned to face her, the movement caught her attention and she looked towards her. Instinctively, she took a sharp breath - the kind that drew her shoulders up visibly. Her hands curled around the sheets on either side.

"Definitely." Lucy replied.

Though she wasn't really here at all.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It surprised Penny to hear that Lucy knew, but she didn’t doubt the Australian either. She recalled the way she had listed off her morning routine; because she did know. Penny just had never expected Lucy to pay attention to such detail. To notice even those aspects of her life.

When Penny faced her, she took in a short breath, feeling the muscles of her neck and shoulders tighten as she tried not to look.

And she failed.

Her dark eyes briefly traversed the line of her form; how her shoulders rose as she sucked in a breath. The slight curve of her waist down to her legs. The bounce that Penny wasn’t all that sure if Lucy knew existed. The breath she took in held there, dark eyes snapping up to try and meet her gaze.

“Okay.” Penny nodded once, confirming what had already been confirmed. “I should go.” Still, she felt stuck in place, afraid that if she were to move, it’d be in the opposite direction of the door, and if she did so, then she surely wouldn’t leave. This wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The way Penny looked at Lucy didn't cause her to flinch. Never did she feel the pressure of the weight of her gaze. Or at least, she tried her best not to make it known. It never caused her discomfort. Rather, she wanted to be looked at. To be noticed and known by the psychometrist in whichever way she saw fit. So she didn't move, didn't shift and didn't do anything under her expression except breathe. Slow. Definite. And not at all precise.

Lucy nodded at the simple word; okay. And again when she said she should go. But when she didn't see an inch of movement from her, she knew they were at something of a stalemate again. And waiting through it did nothing to bring comfort.

So the ink manipulator pushed herself away from the bed again, taking the few steps necessary to catch her counterpart before she made a choice. There, she pressed her hands to either side of her face and leaned in again, brushing her lips to those she knew so well. To those she wanted. She kissed her vapid of all prior, usual connotations and intention. She kissed her because she was going to miss her, and she wasn't sure where she'd be. If she'd be so definite in another mind.

But as she drew away, she left a sliver of distance, her eyes closed.

"Go on," She said lightly, exhaling a slow sigh at the own words. At the weight of them as she pressed her hands to her shoulders lightly, "I've got this."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny was sure she could do it; turn around and leave. Never had she struggled so much with doing so before, but something about tonight felt off. She sucked in a slow breath, and just as she had been about to make a move, Lucy did so first.

So she didn’t move, not when she stepped closer, nor when she felt familiar hands against her skin. The lips that brushed against her own did so with such delicacy; the normal undertones of purpose missing from it, however that didn’t take away from any significance of it. Her own hand drew upward, tucking a stray strand of hair behind the ink manipulator’s ear as she reciprocated the kiss just as lightly.

She was going to miss her, but she’d be waiting. There. Definitely.

And as she pulled away, her neck ached as she fought the desire to follow. The weight of her hands on her shoulders kept her grounded as she gave a nod, despite how her counterpart’s eyes were closed. “You have this.” She corrected, keeping her tone as light as possible. What Lucy had, she wasn’t even sure. She leaned in again, offering one more light, significant kiss before she finally drew away completely.

She reached for the handle, twisting it before pulling the door open. “I’ll see you soon.” And in the next moment, she stepped out, closing the door behind her with a definite click.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy's eyes narrowed a touch as the correction Penny gave caught her ears, but the corner of her mouth dragged into a small smirk at the notion itself. It was irritating to be corrected, but it was so like her. The arrogance and mild defence in her smirk boiled away to something of a more genuine smile when she leaned in to kiss her. She reciprocated, because she doubted she never would.

But within the next moment, she was completely gone from the ink manipulator's grasp. A simple parting statement and the door was closed with a definite click.

There, in the room, she wondered what she should do. Was she really supposed to wait there? Alone? And do what?

She wrung her hands together for a brief moment before she glanced at the nature of her discarded clothes. It felt so bizarre to put the rest of her clothes on alone, but sure enough she took purposeful steps and hauled the denim shorts she'd worn here over her hips so she could wear them out.

The silence was deafening. Almost torturous, and she wondered how the psychometrist found such solitude in such a mundane space. So little about it spoke of her. At least, the side of her the ink manipulator knew. She stepped towards the books on the shelving unit, her fingers perusing the titles she didn't really register. She didn't need a power to remember the time she'd so gruffly pushed them to the floor. Anything to get her attention. To get her back.

To keep her playing.

To keep her interested.

But the one Lucy recognised was no where to be seen on in the stacks, and so she glanced over her shoulder towards the immaculately organised desk instead. It was there, in plain view if one were to really look. The Hobbit. She stepped forward and pressed her hand to the cover, feeling the settled ink's position, recalling how painful it had been to move such printed words. The residual shift was well and truly gone now. Six months.

Had it really been six months?

Did it feel like more or less? Was it possible to get lost in the two and really feel frazzling vertigo when trying to pin down a time line?

She contemplated making the psychometrist's bed, but she doubted she would do the act justice either way. Still, she couldn't leave it as it was; sheets spilled over the edge in the scramble she'd made to reach for her again. So she drawled them up slowly, purposefully. The blanket too, tucked in at the sides before she ran her hands across the top. There were a few creases - because the ink manipulator wasn't perfect or particularly adept at making a bed - but it was there all the same.

Without fail, she recalled the first time she ever left it. She recalled waking up and apologising; though not for the first time. The way Penny had drawn the sheets to her chest to keep herself covered as the clearest sign of miscommunication. How she asked what they were, and how Lucy asked if they needed to know. She remembered being stared at, and she remembered staring. Too fragile. Too refined. As if anything can ever be too refined.

Another thing she'd likely break. Another thing she was sure she already had, and she likely would again. As if Lucy Serrano deserved something so delicate.

Straightening her back again, she had a thought; why did she leave without making her bed in the first place? Usually it was the first thing she did when it was empty. Well, not the first thing. But it was high on the list?

And why had she asked Lucy to pull the zip up on her dress?

Running her fingers through her hair, she reached down and hooked them into the back of her boots before settling at Penny's desk chair to put them on. Wrap the laces around her ankles. Tie a double knot. There was no way she was sitting in here for god knows how long.

Because seriously, why the dress.

Frowning at the proverbial dark green mess on the wall, Lucy's eyebrows twitched. It visibly irked her. So the words on the wall behind her took new form before she locked the door behind her as she stepped out.

98% Graduated.