Own It, It's Yours

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

December 25th, 2014

Christmas was the kind of day Lucy had to usually gear herself up for. It involved a large amount of family in one location from sunrise to sunset. A high flow of alcohol. A high flow of memories and stories and recollection. Relatively useless presents that the ink manipulator could do her best to pretend to care about. It was, in a word, exhausting.

But that was family, and so it was constantly excused for the greater good.

As she woke that morning, there was no where else she'd rather find herself. Rather than an empty bed in Australia - or worse, the exact bed she was in now - she had the usual company; the company she struggled to sleep without. The temptation to reach out the moment she found herself in a conscious state was far too overwhelming not to adhere to. Hands that were already wrapped around her drew her in almost instantly. It was just a day.

Just like every other day, wasn't it? Every day started so similarly.

Rarely one to make distance, Lucy pressed a hand to the bed and drew herself up to sit the moment she could stand to. Long after those residual tremors from her form subsided; instead, the moment her breathing really started to stabalise. Before she could get so caught again.

"Get dressed." Lucy tried; it was probably the first time she'd ever said that. So quickly, she continued on, "We got somewhere to be."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

For Penny, Christmas wasn't an exceptionally special day. Although time with her family was by no means something negative, they usually celebrated quietly. A small exchange of gifts and dinner with the grandparents on her father's side. More often than not, it lead to a series of passive aggressive comments. After all, it wouldn't be a Blaise family gathering without them.

And when Penny awoke, none of that filled her mind. What mattered was the Australian lying next to her. Refusing to move herself just yet, it wasn't until Penny felt Lucy stir did she give any of her own signs of consciousness. Familiar hands pulled her in. An easy pattern to follow.

The Brit didn't know how much time had passed, but as Lucy pushed herself up, Penny's eyes snapped open, never having thought she'd hear those words pass her mouth. Her own palm pressed into the sheets as she eased herself up, fingers tracking through her hair to tuck a few strands away.

Lucy wasn't a morning person, and for her to suggest them be up before Penny could was incredibly rare, so much she had to question it. "Pardon?"

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It was no secret that Lucy so rarely called to the idea that they should leave. She'd taken on her usual morning protocol, and usually the next stint involved watching Penny try to leave her for the sake of making tea. The inevitable struggle she found most mornings.

Once started, it was hard to stop. So she forced herself up. But she didn't expect to be followed quite so quickly, so she looked.

Lucy watched the way Penny moved, taking in the way she ran her fingers through her hair. The single word she offered - harsh as it could have sounded - did little to deter the ink manipulator and her motives. She was more determined than she'd ever been to get out of bed that particular morning.

But the shifted strands of her hair created an opening, and with a small twist of her form she was leaning in to press her lips against the base of her neck.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As Penny sat up, she barely acknowledged the way blankets slid down her form. The one shy Brit no longer struggled with the concept of being seen, so long as it was her dark eyes that looked. As she did. And as her own gaze tried to meet Lucy's in the form of a question, she couldn't help but to notice.

She couldn't help but to get caught up on the idea of leaving. It felt like a reversed role. Without knowing what Lucy had in store, the Brit didn't want to get out of the comforts of a shared bed, nor did she by any means want to let her go for any significant amount of time.

Instead of an answer, Penny sucked in a short breath at the response given. Lips pressing to her neck and she was hardly about to argue that it didn't answer her question. Rather, her free hand quickly made its way to Lucy, pressing lightly to the back of the Australian's neck as she lifted her chin enough to give her counterpart - her fiancé - more.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The hand at the back of Lucy's neck offered the most potent brand of encouragement available, second only to the inevitable way Penny tilted her head to give more. Despite her obvious intention to leave, it was impossible not to get so caught up. Because it was more than just a day. A Serrano took a day out of life to encompass and envelop themselves in the notion of family.

One day, by law, this girl would stand to be a permanent member of that fact.

Weight to the bed with her hand allowed her to lean in even more, parted lips working small trail along the perfect curve of her neck. Where she didn't apply pressure, she left an undeniably short, heated exhale. Cooler connotations with each breath she tried - and failed - to completely take.

Fingers curled into the sheets of her own bed as she reached her counterpart's ear; another short breath of air with the fall of her shoulders.

"I'm serious." She argued, but she made no move to break away.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Any brand of encouragement that Penny could offer, she was more than willing to give. Best of all it worked. Although the craning of her neck was an instinctual move, the progression of things after was no secret. And really, it was Lucy's fault to begin with.

Short bursts of hot air against her skin forced her own breath to falter, coming to a complete halt as Lucy reached her ear.

She was serious. So much that the Australian felt the need to stress the singular word. In Penny's ear, even. If this was some attempt to pull the Brit away from her, then she was failing miserably. Although the idea of failure to leave was something Penny was ready to accept.

Lucy leaned in, and the pressure at the back of her neck increased as she refused to offer a verbal response.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

What Penny did was so simple. All it was was an easy shift of her own fingers through her hair. How it all filtered back in a different way. It was the stupidest reason to get so completely wrapped in another person she'd ever experienced. And the worst thing about it was as Lucy lingered in that desired proximity, she was acutely aware of this fact.

She adhered to the belief that it was improbable. Another brush of her lips against her skin; to the space below her ear. A hefty breath inward that did little to keep any designated composure. A hand to the folds of the sheets that pooled at her waist. Curling in. Dragging away despite the cooler touch to the air.

"Fuck," She offered the word on a breath.

Willpower was supposed to be the Australian's strong suit, but when it came to her counterpart all rules were out the window. Though really, she should have learned as such by now.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It should have been easy to listen. Penny knew possibly more than anyone else that Lucy was not one to function in the mornings. If she wanted to be up, there was good reason for it.

But she wasn't so easily denied. It was hypocritical, saying she was serious yet refusing to move. It put the decision in Penny's hands, and without knowing her reasons for wishing to get up, she'd always choose to stay.

With her hand tangled in her hair, Penny felt her own grip loosen within time. Christmas wasn't always a day that Penny looked forward to, but this one was already better than any yet.

"Seriously?" She asked between broken breaths, each threatening to burn her counterpart's skin.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The new level of Lucy's own failure was practically astounding. Once already this morning and she was already failing; already faltering into such an obvious pattern. Things were always arguably easier if the two would find themselves on the same page, but the easy way Penny gave into the contact Lucy had provided was a message of such equality within itself.

Seriously. The repeated word caught her ears and she exhaled heavily; audibly in a weaker moment which quickly turned into a small laugh.

"Trying to be." Lucy replied, following the air of repetition by forcing herself up again. Both hands to the bed as she hauled herself up to sit, though one left the folds to instinctively run through her hair. She dragged the already-dishevelled locks over one shoulder, and Lucy didn't glance back at her. She couldn't. "We'll be right back here after." She continued on, doing her best to convince herself as much as she was her counterpart.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It was an attempt to bring Lucy's focus back. As teasing as Penny could have made it - and part of her certainly did - she knew that if her counterpart had made a move so early, she actually wanted to be up. It was too much not to pass up holding Lucy in her bed for that much longer, seeing as the role was usually reversed.

Again, as the Australian moved up, Penny followed, but was sure not to keep the same proximity as she looked to her counterpart. Lucy Serrano was trying to be serious, yet the laugh she just offered was so incredibly intoxicating. How was that fair?

Worse yet, the shift of her counterpart's hair drew dark eyes down the length of her jaw to the now exposed line of her neck. Still having yet to make the connection that it was exactly the same move she made moments ago that got her so distracted, Penny all but missed what the ink manipulator had said.

There was a definite delay in her response as she looked. Stared.

"Right back here?"

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It must have been obvious quickly; how Lucy strained to keep her attention focused forward as opposed to offering a look over her shoulders. It would have been an easy move to make. Hardly a mistake, but given her goal, it'd do nothing but complicate matters.

There was an obvious conviction in Penny's voice. This time, the ink manipulator reached for the blanket and worked to draw it away from herself.

"Absolutely." Lucy replied, definite on the fact, especially if it was what her counterpart wanted. "I promise. Back before you know it, then we can do whatever you want." Her voice carried her own stint of conviction; genuine belief in her own tone echoed into her movements as she worked to finally drag herself out of bed.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny was sure the strain in her tone was evident, as convincing as she tried to make herself sound, distraction still lined her voice, enough to make a dull pain within her jaw as she clenched it. Trying to be good.

The Brit even waited a half beat before following, easing the fabric of the sheets away from her own form before she pushed herself off the bed. Still, she couldn't stop herself. Hands reached out, fingers trailing either side of Lucy's form as she took a step closer to wrap her arms around the ink manipulator, form pressed against her back.

Because she wasn't going to say it. Lucy knew better than anyone how impossible it was for the Brit to talk about these moments, but there was no doubt that she very much did want the ink manipulator back under the blankets with her. A tilt of her chin, and Penny pressed her lips lightly to the base of Lucy's neck that had been holding her attention since she first shifted her hair.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It wasn't supposed to be an important day. But it felt like every move Lucy made was a representation of everything it was; a day to spend with family. She was her family. The second she registered movement behind her, Lucy felt a small sense of accomplishment. She even thought to step away even further.

But she didn't. Instead, she was caught by the fingertips that tracked either side of her form. Arms around her waist. Familiar form against her back, a move which forced her to find the ability to stand straight.

"Love," Lucy tried, so very lightly given the pressure to her neck. How easily she tilted her head to encourage the significant contact. How hands ran the course of her arms so slowly, "I just want to take you to yours."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny could have argued that she didn't mean to hold Lucy's plans up, but she would have been found a liar. As much as she tried - and she try, really - the precision in which she kissed the base of Lucy's neck was enough proof that every move she made was done with intention. From the way she held the ink manipulator close to the way she lingered against her skin.

Fingers tracked lightly down the length of her arms, and despite Lucy's argument, she knew the contact was appreciated. It read in the way Lucy moved; how her back straightened against the psychometrist's form.

Still close, the nickname offered ripped the air from Penny's lungs with the twitch of her lip. Blazing breath simmered across already warm skin. Another strategically placed kiss, short but hardly insignificant before she finally loosened her hold, having yet to make the step to actually pull away. She could if she wished.

"Take me to my what?" She asked lightly, eyebrows raising in confused curiosity.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope Blaise rarely ever did anything without a meaning behind it. She wasn't a person for useless stretches of effort. A secondary brush of her lips against the ink manipulator's neck left Lucy sinking her teeth into her lower lip. It would have been so easy. She doubted she'd field any complaints. A circular pattern of behaviour was already forming and there was hardly anything bad about it.

Except that she wanted to do one thing first.

There were, in truth, many ways to answer such a question. Properly or not, Lucy momentarily lingered in silence as she considered the myriad of responses she could give to tack an ulterior meaning to her question. She could take her to a lot of things.

"Yours." Lucy replied, as if the repetition would make it clear what she meant.

But a spare second and a shallow breath proved that to be false. Hands still pressed against her arms, she made no move to step away, "Your room."