Every Shade of You

[Carleigh Davidson]

Carleigh didn't blame Lucy for not remembering; it had been a brief relationship, a summer romance. It only confirmed that the blonde wasn't ready for something serious. She was young and there would be time in the future for a deeper connection.

Had Lucy brought up that her advice failed. Carleigh would have argued against it. The advice had worked; she took the opportunity when it presented itself. It just took a couple months together to realize that some things were better left untouched, and her friendship with him was one of them.

"I think so." Carleigh said with a nod. "I always assumed you were super close with her."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Pressing her lips together, Lucy gave a soft hum to the notion of Sawyer Lynn. Friends of three years and still equally so; progression existed, she supposed, but it felt like a completely different preface.

Deeper red, now. Or was it more of a burnt orange. Sienna? She took a momentary step back to watch the way the lines bled and extended their reach, a process she should have kept her complete focus on, but for the most obvious reasons that proved to be difficult. Not that it mattered. Not that it made it any less interesting than it was. "She was my best friend for years." Lucy finally replied, reigning back any potential bitterness. That wasn't the question at hand.

"I mean, yeah, I did tell her about it. Couple of months after things kicked off. But it wasn't like... It didn't have the same context." She explained, pressing her free hand to her hip momentarily, the brush cradled between her fingers despite the way the bristles grazed the material of her shirt. "I told her we were hooking up. That it wasn't just that, but we weren't like, together or anything. It seemed like all she could handle hearing, anyway. She's not the kind of person you open up to unless you want it to be really bloody awkward."

Tapping the edge of the brush idly against her side, she retracted her hand. "But you - I pretty much told you I-" A small pause. So completely necessary, "-love her. I knew by that point that I was-" A wave of her hand to find the proper phrase, or rather, will herself to give it, "in love with her, and it seemed like the information might help." She rolled her shoulders instinctively, taking a small breath.

Without eye contact, this wasn't quite so daunting. "But I dunno, maybe I was dying to just tell someone who I knew would listen."

[Carleigh Davidson]

As the conversation continued, Carleigh found herself less drawn to the lines making their way from the brush to wall and more on the dark haired Australian holding it. Her back was still to Carleigh. It made the blonde a little anxious; a little nervous given that a conversation with this much weight should involved eye contact, even if it was brief. Then again, their friendship wasn't conventional so why should the conversation be?

The unnamed best friend. She nodded to herself, an action likely not to be seen. Carleigh stayed quiet, allowing Lucy to fully explain herself without interruption. It was what she could offer, as a friend herself. Her finger secured the cold ring around her finger, twirling it around in a counterclockwise direction. Different stages in the relationship could easily explain why Carleigh was the first and only to hear the words from Lucy's mouth. But she went on.

Someone who would listen. A frown flashed across the blonde's features, feeling bad for her. She couldn't open up to her supposed best friend. A different friendship, maybe, called for different protocols. Carleigh herself had friends on a social level; people she could talk to about the smaller things. The one thing herself and Lucy shared in common was confiding in each other. A simple fact that brought another smile to her lips. Because it was nice knowing someone actually had her back and would listen to her petty problems, like not being able to sleep or ex-boyfriend drama.

The weight of her family issues pressed down harder on her shoulders. During the holiday season, the bitter reminder was always there. Conscious, or not. "Well, you know... I'm glad you did." She admitted. "That you... were able to tell me. That we're comfortable around each other." Because that was apparently hard to find.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

As much as Lucy listened, she focused on the wall in front of her. How those simple brushes formed a template. A single line stretching square across the wall. How circular colours and patterns formed past the break; that horizontal line was the proverbial boundary. Yellow to burnt orange to red to bloody wine to, at this point, nothing.

She settled the brush in her back pocket, the remnants of paint in her hand sweeping the semi-circlular outline. From one point of the horizon to the other. Persian to magenta, to a deeper shade.

Another squeeze of the white paint into her hand. Another swipe. Faded thulian.

And finally, nothing.

She was glad that they were friends. "We're pretty good friends." Lucy corrected, as simply as she could. Her thumb brushed against certain edges of the explosively colourful sunrise against the wall for the brightest girl she'd ever really met. "Don't think I'd ever tell anyone else anything important." Not any more. Not after how many people tended to dissipate, "Y'know, except for her."

[Carleigh Davidson]

The smile on Carleigh's pale pink lips widened at the correction; it was true. Nobody else could compare in terms of closeness. A good friend made in the weirdest of circumstances. Who knew that a school project could bring two very different individuals together?

"Understandable." The blonde answered after Lucy added the part about only confiding in herself and Penny. People always said senior year was about finding your place and finding out who her real friends were. And the answer couldn't be anymore clear.

Blue eyes glanced up at the once empty wall, now full of colour. Her jaw dropped in awe, stunned silent. She knew her power; the ability to manipulate ink. But this... "Holy shit." Carleigh exclaimed, still staring. At each colour, all created from white ink. Strokes that turned into a sunrise. "This is.. I can't even."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Though there were no real remnants of paint on her hand, Lucy still ran her palm along the length of her shirt anyway; an instinctive movement to ensure she was clean. For someone who could move ink and its relatives without fail, it must have seemed strange to be somewhat splattered in the product. It was comforting. Always on hand.

She stood back, hands pressed to her hips as she already worked to scrutinise things. She felt the itch in her palms to press forward and fix flections that were irritating her, but Carleigh's voice stalled the usual motion.

"I dunno what it is about you, but you're the only optimistic person I don't want to kick in the face over a smile." Lucy explained, fingers tapping against her hip idly. These moments were important. She didn't want to ruin them in any capacity. "You're not the first person I've done something like this for," She stared. A galaxy on a psychometrist's ceiling. A lion on a voice mimics door, "But you're the first that's been here for it."

[Carleigh Davidson]

Wide, blue eyes continued to take in the sight of the new sunrise on her wall. The bold colours painting the once boring surface. Carleigh couldn't tear her eyes away; it was amazing. The way people like Lucy had such precise control over inks and could create beautiful pieces of art.

Her next sentence got a laugh out of Carleigh. At least it was honest. "I'll take it." She replied, her voice choking up in the middle. Shaky. A little unstable. She blinked away a couple of tears. This was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, ever. It didn't matter if she was the first or the last; what did was the fact that Lucy thought to do this in the first place. To show that she cared. "I hope my presence didn't bother you too much during it." The blonde added. Talking away, as always.

A tear fell down her cheek, and Carleigh hastily wiped it away with the back of her hand. Crying in happiness. "You're the best, Lucy." She took her time to say this, until she could trust her voice again. "This.. is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. I love it."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Struggling to remain still was always a prominent issue with Lucy. She found herself to be hyper aware of the situation; how invested she seemed in the colour scheme on her wall. It wasn't until she spoke for the first time that Lucy really registered something might be wrong. There was an obvious difference in her tone - a little disjointed, maybe?

"Nah, it's not a bother." She replied quickly, trying to wave off any threat of negativity to the moment itself. It wasn't what she meant with what she said, and she immediately considered how to better rectify her own words.

Panic rose in the back of Lucy's mind pretty steeply after that; she reeled back to the blonde on the bed as she ran a hand over the side of her face. Dark eyes went wide, and everything from the alteration of her voice to the movements to the words themselves finally clicked into place. Everything else she said seemed to wash over her, and her hand twitched with the overwhelming urge to do something.

"Fuck, I-" She started, evident distress in those two little words as she tried for more; "I didn't meant to-" Tears were bad, weren't they? Making someone cry in any capacity was bad.

Pulse in her ears and rapidly rising in her throat. Minimal steps towards her and she stood closer to her bed, nodding her head up once, "Get up."

[Carleigh Davidson]

Carleigh had a feeling that her voice would betray her; it was near impossible to hide the way her voice cracked every few words or how it strained to keep composure when she clearly was losing it. Her hand froze in midair as Lucy turned to focus her attention on the blonde; a deer in the headlights expression on her face.

She rushed to get words out, sounding panicked. "It's not what it looks like." Carleigh added quickly. "I.. I'm just really emotional, I cry whether it's good or bad and this is good." It never struck the blonde that her tears would quickly be labelled bad. She was always emotional and when actions touched her greatly, the tears came.

Blue eyes widened at Lucy's demand. Carleigh hesitated, before pulling herself up and off of her bed and pausing before the Australian. "I'm really sorry Lucy.." She began to apologize.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

So Carleigh cried over good and bad things. Lucy took a shallow breath, either because Carleigh might have been lying or just pointing out that it was, in fact, a bad thing. Eyebrows rose with a distressed crease between the two. The two words she herself had offered sounded way too harsh for what they were.

But at least she complied.

Never one to deal with tears well, Lucy took apologies in much the same way. She contemplated how best to respond, but her mind raced with the steady rhythm her heart was taking on, and she quickly reasoned that any amount of words were going to come across as poorly as the fact that she didn't want to punch Carleigh in the face every time she smiled.

"Shut the fuck up, Car."

Despite the paint that dotted her clothes, she reached out with an arm and looped it around the blonde's neck. With gentle pressure against her adjacent shoulder, Lucy eased her into an embrace.

[Carleigh Davidson]

The blonde's face wore worried features; the way her eyes averted eye contact, how her fingers instantly curled around the silver ring on her thumb. The forehead creases and slight pout on her lips. Although she wasn't upset before, Carleigh was a bit panicked at the sort of impression she was leaving for Lucy. Crying. Nobody ever thought to give her something so personal as a gift. Birthdays were mailed cheques with obscene amounts of money. Christmas too. A torn open envelope on the ground was proof.

No. This was the best thing anyone had ever done for the blonde and now Lucy thought she was upset with the colourful sunset on her wall.

Of course, Carleigh felt the need to apologize; to clear up the misconception. Before she could ramble on, Lucy's next set of words shocked her even more. Her mouth gaped, completely thrown off guard. The words stopped spilling from her lips, as the minimal distance between them was crossed. An arm around her neck, eased into a hug. The surprise still made its way through her veins, as she stood still; frozen. It took a few seconds for her arms to move, for Carleigh's body to remember that its place was on Earth. With guidance, her head rested on her shoulder and the blonde's arms wrapped around Lucy's waist. Tightly. She didn't speak a word. 

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Hugging people was difficult. It was always hard to find a way through the stagnant way Lucy's body wanted to deny the act itself. It was different if she were simply putting an arm around someone to prove a point or play a part - hell, it wasn't that long ago that she'd kissed this girl without a second thought or a nervous twitch - but anything laced with remotely prominent intimacy was an anomaly.

In hindsight, she shouldn't have snapped how she did. But how could she not?

Carleigh felt frozen against her form and it sent a jolt of panic through her spine; maybe it was too forward. They were friends. Good friends, as Lucy said, but in her mind good had recently come to mean great.

But reciprocation found her in a way she didn't expect. Not simply to accept the contact, but to hold on as tightly as she had. It stole the air from Lucy's lungs in a moment, and so her other arm quickly wrapped the blonde, settled at the back of her head to hold onto her just as tightly. There were likely a myriad of things she could have said in that moment, but as she rested her chin against her shoulder she couldn't think of a single thing that was worthy enough.

[Carleigh Davidson]

One of the last things Carleigh expected was to be on the receiving end of a hug from Lucy Serrano. She cared greatly for her friend; afterall, it was the closest and most meaningful relationship she had with anyone. But sharing a hug? It wasn't something the Australian offered a lot, if at all.

Which is why it took the blonde a moment to move her arms. She still wasn't over the initial shock of what was happening. Even as her arms found their way around Lucy, Carleigh still wasn't sure if she was processing what was going on. Still, the offered embrace was comforting and she never realized just how much she needed this. Someone to hug. Someone who cared.

Her hold tightened; a reciprocated action from both ends. The hug offered so much to the blonde; a sense of security, an act of reassurance. In that moment, everything. It was entirely possible that she was reading way too far into it, that the action was so much more than just a hug. But to call it just that wasn't right. Carleigh exhaled a painful sigh from her chest as Lucy's other arm found its way around her head. Just as tightly. Moments ago, Carleigh stumbled to fill the empty air with words but now was content in comfortable silence. And that was something new to her.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Arms around her seemed to tighten, and Lucy registered the reciprocated pressure for whatever it might mean beyond the normality. Despite the fact that she'd been the one to initiate the contact, it felt as if she'd found her way to the receiving end of the ideals behind it. Or perhaps it was equal from and for both parties. Hugs were reserved for people in her family and the psychometrist she was working to fold into that party. This was different. It felt new.

So as she thought it through, she realised how much it meant to offer what she had. And in turn, to take it for herself. Had she opened her eyes, she would have stared back at the myriad of colours that kept her bedroom wall from feeling so stagnant. Something that allowed the surface to match everything she placed in it.

Optimism was never hers to grasp, but having someone who actively gave it to her was, in a word, acceptable.

"If you wanna talk, I'll listen." She finally said, intent on doing more than just breaking the silence before it became too much. "I don't care how stupid you think it'd be."

[Carleigh Davidson]

Now that the gates had opened, Carleigh wasn't sure if she would be able to close them. The way she clung onto Lucy as if for life was proof. The way her shoulders shook silently with repressed sobs and how the tears stained her cheeks, and then the fabric on her shoulder. The sadness that she kept to herself, not wanting to burden anyone with her problems. It was easier to maintain an optimistic front; people liked it better that way.

But, everyone had to have a breaking point, including Carleigh. The loneliness around the holidays was inevitable for someone who never went home and always stayed in Vermont. There was some effort of communication, made of strained conversations and small talk. But that was few and far in between.

Finally, a sound broke through as Carleigh sniffled. "Sorry," She mumbled an apology before continuing on. "It's... probably gonna be pretty stupid." At least, in her opinion.

"So, maybe you're wondering why I'm still here?" Maybe not. It wasn't in her place to assume, either way. "I... well, my family's relationship is a bit strained, I guess is the best way to put it." A bitter looking smile crossed her face, head still pressed against Lucy's shoulder. Still holding on, but willing to talk.