All Just Part of the Nature

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Takes place immediately after Beats Like a Drum

The drive back to Hammel was excruciating. The walk to Lucy’s dormitory, even more so. What wasn’t all that long at all dragged as the minutes slowly passed. Penny recalled considering not waiting. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and there was more than enough reason to stop the car.

But they hadn’t, and the wait that tortured Penny was long forgotten. Because there she was. Clothes had been discarded hours before, the uptight psychometrist not particularly caring just where they had landed. Eventually, they’d make their way into the hamper. That hardly mattered now.

The only thing that mattered was Lucy Serrano. Perfect in every way. How she moved. Tasted. Breathe. An addiction in the form of flesh and blood. Too perfect in her own flawed way to exist, but here she was all the same.

Penny couldn’t stop. Within every break there those spare set of seconds. Ones where the Brit felt the overwhelming urge to speak. And what she had to say was far too dangerous to let pass her lips. Instead, she pressed them to the ink manipulator’s skin. Again.

Beating wings. As they always did. She lingered against them, letting out a volcanic breath against even hotter skin. Her own hands shook, but not in the same way hers had just moments before. And even as she tried to distract herself with the tattoos she loved, the one on her left hand – on the finger second from the left – still called out in a new way. Unfamiliar but incredibly enthralling all the same.

Her lips parted, and again she tried to hold back the imperative question that would surely ruin this perfect day, but instead she dragged herself up, placing precise kisses along Lucy’s form before reaching her neck. And then her ear. “I couldn’t imagine letting you go to class tomorrow.” Or today? Penny was unaware of the time by then, still the point remained.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Adamant that she wouldn't falter, Lucy carried the most minimal composure all the way from the place she worked to the place she lived. Hands had twitched to reach out - palms aching to get another ounce of contact - but she resisted to the best of her ability, knowing that in a series of minutes she'd have nothing to resist, and nothing to draw her away for an important set of hours.

The quick loss was worth the lengthy gain. The silent agreement made her substantially more desperate to be alone with her; come what may and hell to pay for any and all entities that might have tried to disrupt that.

But there were no discrepancies. Clothes were pulled and shifted and forced in record timing, and as much as she wanted to fight the psychometrist's forward nature, she simply couldn't. What she'd given spoke volumes over anything she could say. What she'd done was more weighted than any expression imaginable. It gave new meaning to everything, shedding light to every time Penny would tell her she loved her. Light to any time Penny would tell her anything so important.

A life. With Penelope Blaise. The potential imprinted on her left hand; on her finger, second from the left.

There wasn't a moment to breathe. Not properly. Each break in the rhythm left her little time to try and settle. Every time she tried to speak out of turn, she was quickly faltered. Penny couldn't stop, but Lucy had necessary things to say.

And so breathy, reiterated words of love fell to the Brit's ears throughout such instances where she couldn't stop. By the last, Lucy was certain the words had passed her lips over a dozen times. A dozen times just wasn't enough for what she wanted to express.

Hands loosened in her hair in time, chest heaving with the worst attempt at breathing she'd ever made in her life. A rise and fall of her chest with every short, sharp intake and adjacent exhale. There was a new level. They were at a new level. It was possible, and it was achieved. All through a lining of ink beneath her skin, and how it left her connected to the ink manipulator with a new sense. How it made the body she was so familiar with call to her in a different, intricately designed way.

It was, in short, devastatingly intoxicating.

With a tilt of her head back, she opened her mouth and breathed a short laugh at the words placed against her ear. Finally, she spoke. And that was what she chose to say. It was perfect.

"Fuck you if you would." Lucy managed, but the words were strenuous to string together with so little in her lungs.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It had been over a dozen times she heard Lucy’s accented voice and every time it forced the air from her lungs. Her pulse to beat just a little harder despite how impossible it seemed; it was already racing.

Every admission made it that much harder. Penny wasn’t sure if she could handle much more. She was positive she couldn’t.

There were a hundred better things to say, and what Penny did offer was the most she could manage to say at all. Anything else was too threatening to lead towards more. As much as it was an honest admission within itself, it was a deterrent all the same.

Because for once she had been greatful to hear the ink manipulator swear. Had she the air in her lungs, Penny might have even laughed. Instead, she managed to kiss Lucy’s cheek, and then her jaw. “Isn’t that the point?” She asked quickly. The Brit was never one to make such a joke, but it seemed like everything to try. Still, the comment alone caused a flaring of her cheeks.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Small lingering moments against her neck and along her jaw had the ink manipulator continuously grasping for a decent hit of air. The moment Lucy thought she could settle, Penny worked her magic again, constantly leaving her in similar states. It was always hard to stop, she knew. But this was an entirely new tier of control.

Or rather, a lack thereof.

Stumbling through an uneven laugh, Lucy took the statement given to her with humour as she raised a weakened hand. A slow rhythm from the lightest graze of her fingertips along the line of her counterpart's back. That she could be so perfect was a total mystery, still.

"You'd let me?" Lucy asked, the pause in her words giving her another moment to catch an equally short breath, "That's super generous."

After all, save for the instance in the tattoo shop, Penny had been nothing but giving all day.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

The more Lucy struggled to breathe, the more Penny wanted to make it that much harder. To know she had such an effect over the ink manipulator was everything within itself. Everything to work for to keep it going. She selfishly loved the way each breath sounded as she tried to take it.

Although it wavered, Lucy’s laugh was the perfect sign that she was doing this right. She tried to work through her natural awkwardness on verbally speaking of something so natural in their personal life together, but there was still that inevitable feeling of shyness despite her forward nature.

Still, she had to try. “It’s hard to stop.” She replied, voice dropping as she spoke against Lucy’s jaw. She was well aware of the ratio between them for this particular day, and that hadn’t changed her perspective in the least. She wasn’t done. “Are you complaining?”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy thought to look. She considered opening her eyes and tilting her head down just enough to catch a glimpse of her. Conversations of this nature were incredibly rare; to drag out past a sentence or two was unjust. But despite the overbearing need to get a look at her counterpart's expression, she didn't move. The fact that she couldn't must have said more than words could.

She didn't want her to stop. Not by any means. Not for anything.

Because being adored by the psychometrist was something to revel in. It wasn't always this intense; this drawn out. Nurturing the concept - and by proxy, giving way to her own desire to stare - was most wise.

"Absolutely not." Lucy quickly replied. A complaint would hardly take such form past her own mouth.

Breathing was still a chore. Her fingertips were still slightly wavering. Wings still beating. She couldn't stop herself, either. "Why would I want you to stop?"

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As hard as it was to speak about, Penny found distraction in the way she continued to kiss Lucy. Never did she allow too long of a moment to pass before she pressed her lips to the ink manipulator’s skin again. This time to her neck, and again to her collarbone. Each slow and precise, hoping to drag as much air from her lungs as the last.

Although Penny lacked the same confidence her counterpart wore so well, the Brit knew the answer before it passed Lucy’s lips. Regardless, hearing it was completely different. Lucy’s verbal acknowledgement towards the matter only fueled Penny further as her hand slipped passed the beating wings she wore.

“I don’t know.” She replied to the question honestly. There was a whole new connection. A new level of affection that made it impossible to control herself by any means. And in the same, Penny knew how well it was received. “But I’m glad.” She added as her fingers inched lower.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Note: FtB

Again, Lucy had found herself so easily persuaded. So simply dismantled by the freshly tattooed psychometrist. As if she'd truly needed the encouragement - the request for more - to keep her momentum high; Lucy doubted her heartbeat had managed to settle either.

The gentle hand at her back had tightened on instinct, losing its grace to favour nails across her skin. It was as if each momentous instance built onto the last. Like she was never going to stop. Like Lucy would never ask her to.

Throwing her head back on another audible breath, the ink manipulator had tried again.

"I love you." Again. On an exhale. In the throws. Like clockwork; periodic with the passing of seconds, the sudden shake of her hands in tow.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As much as Penny needed a moment to breathe, she couldn’t seem to give herself the chance, and in the same way, she couldn’t give Lucy a chance to do the same either. God only knows what she’d say had she a moment to catch her breath.

Because it was just as bad when Lucy Serrano still clearly tried. And succeeded. Those imperative words passed her lips again. She could hear the tremble within her accent. Feel it within the hands that held on so intently.

It was too much. Never did Penny want to reject such affection, but within the tremble of her own hands, she could feel the built up tension fill her form again. But was hardly bad.

“Just shut up, Serrano.” Penny’s reply slipped out before she could think to stop, on her own opposite exhale against her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, almost cringing at herself as she forced a breath in. That was hardly what she meant.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

There was a time not all that long ago where Lucy had hoped to be able to master such words of love with a little more ease. Though their existence grew with the overbearing affection she felt, she still believed she could do better. So now, here, interconnected in a new light, she'd found the means to control that inability to express.

But being told to shut up, however toned, was a suppressant to that decision entirely. A short breath past her lips before she pressed them together. The shake in her hands still existed - there was little to be done to stop the inevitable - but the words struck her in a way they likely weren't meant for. The way her eyes closed forced her to miss the reeled look the ink manipulator tried to give. The raise of her eyebrows in her confusion. The widening of her eyes.

More than anything, it felt strangely stressed that she should do as her counterpart asked. She wanted to give in on the same level.

So she did exactly that; she kept her mouth shut. Though the decision hardly carried the same light humoured merit it had when she tried it not too long ago.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope had learned to regret very few things, but she was already starting to feel the repercussions of what she had said only a second before. Even with her eyes closed, within the proximity the psychometrist could still feel the way Lucy forced her mouth closed. The hardened line her lips formed that never quite suited her.

And not a sound as her hands shook.

When Penny finally did open her eyes, she tried to catch her counterpart’s expression, concern flashing within her own. Although she had – in her mind – a logical reason to ask her counterpart to stop speaking, she couldn’t very well say it. And in the same, she never wanted Lucy to actually stop.

“That’s not—” She tried, gaze shifting to the line of Lucy’s lips before back to her eyes. Even as an explanation was on the tip of her tongue, Penny was still breathless. “Don’t stop.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Silence proved difficult. Lucy pressed her palm completely against her counterpart's back, giving leniency to the nails that dragged only moments prior. It was as if she had little control over the sudden shift; like she didn't know it existed.

She exhaled through the need to make a sound, refusing to part her lips for the rush of air.

Because almost immediately after, Penny was looking at her. Concerned and overly aware eyes were tracking her every move. And now, she was asking her not to stop. But it was difficult to comply with.

"It's what you want." She reasoned, trying not to appear so altered by the initial request.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

There was reason to be concerned, and Penny made no effort to hide it from her features as she looked back at Lucy. Her eyes widened at just how quickly Lucy worked to abide to the psychometrist’s request. As if it were a reasonable request at all.

Penny felt the tension shoot through her shoulders; although nails had at a point tracked over her back, it didn’t ache with its usual sense. Because she laid off the piercing pressure.

“No.” Penny argued, knowing she was contradicting what she had only just said. Lightly, she pressed her lips to the corner of Lucy’s mouth. “I—” How was she to explain this? “It’s overwhelming. I don’t always know how to handle it.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy considered her progress. She considered how many times she'd gone to say such a thing, only to have it ripped from her mouth before she'd make it. How she'd fumble through.

Now she struggled to stop. Now, she replaced the words for her counterpart when necessary. Finding a way back to that felt more detrimental. Because she wanted to say it again - as many times as her lungs would allow, especially given the context of the day - but she simply couldn't. That blockage, however fast, felt firmly in place again.

"So, I won't." She replied. It felt strange now to pierce the moment with her own voice, but she worked to do so regardless. This time however, she allowed the release in pressure to stay, teeth choosing to sink into her lower lip instead.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny had never thought something so detrimental would come from trying to suppress a question. It wasn’t fair, more so to Lucy than anyone else. The person Penny loved intently but couldn’t offer a proper explanation for. It felt strange to hold the information away.

But she was stubborn, and so was she. “Please don’t.” She tried, gaze dropping to the way her teeth bit down into her lip. Easing her free hand up, Penny’s fingers traced the line of Lucy’s jaw, trying to ease away her own tension with the move.

“I don’t really want you to.” There were few times when Penny would admit she was wrong, but she couldn’t imagine a better time than then. “I made a mistake.”