Vertigo (Penny)

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy had never let someone walk out on her like that. The drive to chase her had been great, but it couldn’t outweigh the dangers of the action. She had made a rash, logical choice in the space of a second. A sliver in time. And while part of her regretted it, the other part couldn’t.

It’s been so long. She’d been gone for a week and finally come back only to dissipate from the ink manipulator’s life for another week.

After the ordeal that was their last encounter, the state of Lucy’s room had reverted to disarray. She immediately tore into everything she owned, decimating the once tidied space to combat everything it represented. She kept it that way to prove something – to show the girl she could commit to being something beyond her means. Past what Penny had once assumed were her capabilities. That seemed pointless now.

Though she was no psychometrist, it didn’t mean she could help falling into her memories any less. Her room felt toxic again, no longer a space to call her own. She ensured herself never to invite another soul into the space unless she was absolutely sure. She was done taking chances with the one place she could call her own.

Penny’s belongings remained in the exact place she’d dropped them, when the mere act of kissing her had forced them from her mind. Lucy hadn’t moved the bag – she had no desire to know what was inside, however trivial or not it might have been. She didn’t want to make contact with it. Each time she thought to take it back, she reminded herself how Penelope had looked at her before she walked away. The way her hand felt as it slipped from her grasp. The way she let her go.

But by the seventh day, she couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t keep this thing that sat and tormented her a second longer. So Lucy hauled the strap over her shoulder and left the messy contours of her uncomfortable living quarters.

She walked the familiar line to the right floor, the right numbered dorm, the right bedroom. Briefly, the Australian entertained the idea of just leaving it there, on her door step like the empty gesturing individual she’d evidently grown to be. But she herself deserved more than that. At the very least, Lucy knew she deserved to see her.

She knocked, opting not to speak.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope hadn't appeared in a week.

It was relatively easy, in fact. The Brit often remained in her room, so it wasn't uncommon for her to not be seen for a days on end. Nobody questioned it.

Except her brother, of course. After their ordeal, Penelope went to the only place she felt she could - Micheal’s apartment. She had stayed there for three days until finally returning to Hammel, so once she finally did go back, the older Blaise sibling felt a need to text her asking how she was doing. He was worried. It made sense. It wasn't often she broke down in front of others, even him.

Otherwise, she didn't see or speak to anybody. Instead, Penelope forced herself to keep busy. Over the days, she painted over her walls and ceiling. White. Clean. Sterile of any memories the walls might have kept in them. She scrubbed every inch of her room. Twice.

Penelope laid on her bed, fingers trailing across the freshly changed sheets as she looked up at the painfully white ceiling. Any time she sat for too long, a pile of questions would flood her mind, but one always made it to the front. Why didn't she chase me? It felt like if that was answered, it would justify everything else. She just couldn't handle what she ultimately knew the answer was. The psychometrist forced her eyes shut, trying to press the thoughts out.

She had trusted her. Let her in.

After barely a moment, Penelope sat up, exhausted eyes traveling across the tidy room. It wasn't enough. The Brit pushed herself off the bed, making her way to the closet. She opened it, staring at the organized contents inside. Her lips formed a hard line as she reached forward, grabbing a blouse.

"I'm not bad with buttons, y'know." she argued, Penelope watched the wall through Lucy's eyes. She felt the smirk on her lips. "But when I get frustrated I kinda just rip at them? I guess it's better if you do it."

Penelope shook her head, trying to force the memory out. Immediately, she threw the shirt in her a trash bag. It wasn't needed. Nothing was. The British girl continued to go through her closet, tossing out various articles of clothing, some memories associated with the Australian, others not. Penelope briefly thought on the bag she left behind, and quickly decided she had no need to get it. She had to start fresh. Rid of anything that wasn't necessary.

She had gone about halfway through her closet when she heard a knock at the door. Immediately, her head snapped towards the direction of the sound. It had to have been Micheal. He said he might stop by, and although Penelope told him not to, it didn't surprise her that he showed up anyway.

The Brit sucked in a breath, considering not answering at all, but Micheal would have known that Penny would be hiding in there. She headed for the door.

“Micheal, I told you that you didn't--” Penelope's voice caught in her throat as she realized that it wasn't her brother standing there.

“...Hello.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy already felt her willpower draining. In the simple moments she stood, she hauled the strap of the bag up, her fingers playing down it for something to do. This was so stupid. This was so dangerous. She should just leave it and walk away. She didn’t want to be done with her British counterpart, but if she wanted nothing to do with the Australian, what more could she do? How could she combat the fact that she was no longer wanted?

Through the door, her voice pierced the silence. She couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of her voice. She sounded exhausted.

When the door opened, the ink manipulator took in the sight of her. She exhaled sharply. She looked exhausted, but she still looked utterly impeccable. She tightened her hold on the strap. She wanted to reach out, but she knew it wouldn't be received well. How could it be?

“Uh...” Lucy stumbled moronically, tugging at the strap of the bag again. When she dropped her jaw to try her hand at communication again, all that fell was a broken, disjointed scoff.

Wait.

Her dark eyes had travelled up to the ceiling, her gaze wide. What was once the most important piece of artistic fluidity she’d ever made was now a sterile, boring, white wash. Lucy looked back down to her, her eyes confused.

She looked back up again, and this time when she settled her eyes on Penny, she looked infuriated.

“Why-” No. No, no, no. She shouldn’t ask. She didn’t need to know. It wasn’t her room. It wasn’t her space. It wasn’t her- “Why would you do that?” She hadn’t realised how desperate she’d sounded until the words left her.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope visibly tensed her eyes landed on Lucy. Her immediately reaction made her fingers twitch – she wanted to reach out and touch Lucy. She found herself wishing there was a way to bypass all the pain and stress so she could just hold the Australian in a tight embrace. But she couldn’t. It was never that simple.

Even if she tried, Penelope was sure her actions wouldn’t be reciprocated. Lucy was clearly here to drop off her bag. If the other didn’t want to talk before, surely she didn’t want to talk now. Penelope’s lips formed a hard line as she realized her bag was the last thing keeping them connected. And now it was being dropped off. Forgotten.

As Lucy’s gaze shifted, Penelope forced herself to focus on the strap of her bag, she watched Lucy’s grip tighten, knowing all too well what the Australian was looking at. She shut her eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of her nose. She wasn’t ready for this conversation.

But it was happening nonetheless.

When she opened her eyes, she focused back on Lucy’s features. The ink manipulator looked exasperated, hurt. Penelope’s jaw clenched as she tried her best to look neutral in response, but those eyes killed her.

“You weren’t here to stop me.” The Brit answered, “and explain to me why I shouldn’t.” She turned, entering venturing back into her room. Penny didn’t need or want her roommates to hear this conversation.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It was a rarity to see the eldest Serrano look so visibly distraught. To hear her sound so desperate for an answer. She couldn't maintain a neutral hand here; keep her expression in check the way she would around just about everyone else she knew. Had it been anything else but this, things might have been different. But this was crucially important.

And now it was gone.

It was settled too. There was no physical way to separate the two without ruining it further.

When she walked in, Lucy didn't follow. Rather, she stepped forward, resting a foot in the doorway. No way in hell was she following her now, and she wasn't about to get shut out.

"You know why." Lucy interjected, her voice - though wavering - raising a touch. If she wanted it kept secret, Lucy would make it known. Evidently she owed the Brit no more courtesy. "That's it, is it? You're done with me?"

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope made her way to the desk, gently placing her hands on the back of the chair. She glanced up at the ceiling, feeling her chest tighten at the sight of how white it was. No. It was good thing. Needed to be done.

She turned to face Lucy as she spoke, and at the slight raise of her voice, Penelope immediately moved on the defensive. It didn’t surprise the Brit that Lucy didn’t step inside. Fine. She tried to convince herself that it didn’t bother her, although it clearly did. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to suppress the irritation that was inevitably growing inside her.

“Stop assuming I know everything – clearly I don’t.” she argued, her own voice starting to rise. She took in a long breath, trying to calm herself. It didn’t work. She couldn’t answer the question. Her lips pursed as she stared down the Australian.

“Do you draw all the girls you know, or just the ones you sleep with?” She snapped bitterly.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"Well fuck, I just assumed you'd bloody well ask if you didn't actually know." Lucy interjected, frowning at the admission alone. It infuriated her to know she was so under received. It was as if she didn't care about what Lucy had done for her at all.

The ink manipulator looked up again briefly, her face straining again at the sight of it. Clearly, she didn't care.

She probably never did.

What came next was a look of pure surprise. She felt her jaw clench, the need to enter the room and breach the unbearable distance growing. But she couldn't. As much as it hurt , and as much as she wanted her to know how much it did, she couldn't give up and let her have this too.

"Why do you care?" Lucy asked instead, folding her arms as she desperately tried to maintain a steely expression. She was most definitely not giving Penny's bag back now; "You left."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Why did she care? Penelope wished she had a proper answer. “Does it surprise you that I actually feel emotions?” she instead questioned. “Did you really think I wouldn’t care?”

Penelope put a hand to her temple, trying to force out the pounding headache that came with the stress and exhaustion.

“You let me leave.” Penelope left the safety of her desk to step towards Lucy, but refused to get to close. It was too dangerous. “You offered no explanation. Not even— you said you weren’t with anyone else!”

She still had no idea when those memories took place, but from the Australian’s attitude and avoidance, Penelope had deduced that they were recent. She knew that she shouldn’t be hurt by it – they weren’t in love. Lucy wasn’t her girlfriend. She should have seen it coming, really. It was only a matter of time. Penny had nothing to offer.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"Yea- No!" Lucy replied instead, curling her fingers around her sides. The minimal pain she received from squeezing her own skin almost made the situation a little more numbing. "How am I supposed to know what you give a fuck about?"

She knew what she was doing. It was classic misdirection. But it took her in the completely wrong route.

Penny all but called her out. Twisted her words against her. It was enough to pull her forward, into the uncomfortable room itself. She gripped the door and threw it shut with as much force as the turn itself could muster.

"You think I lied to you?" She asked, her tone frozen as she lifted the bag off her shoulder and tossed it to the ground like it was nothing. It didn't matter any more. "Is that what you're saying? Because if it is, you should just fucking say so."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

The force of the door slamming was enough to shake Penny’s walls – it caused for a mirror by the door to come off the wall, falling to the ground with a loud smash. It revealed the one spot she couldn’t bring herself to paint over. She glanced at it, and her lips forming a hard line as she tried not to bring attention to it. She didn’t want Lucy to see that the Australian still had some part of her that she couldn’t shake.

Instead, she yelled.

“You should at least know that I give a damn about you!” she shouted, fists clenched, “Even if I wish I didn’t!” Penelope felt like she couldn’t escape the girl. It was impossible.

“I don’t know!” Penelope was trying to explain, but it wasn’t coming out as clearly as she hoped. It was frustrating, and she straightened her back as she tried to continue. “I don’t know if I’m more pissed because of what I saw or the fact that you didn’t care that it hurt for me to watch!”

She paused, her breath heavy from all the yelling. “You wonder why I left – I watched you with her. Over and over again. I watched her fall in love with you. I felt it. And I felt how you did when you were around her!”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The sound of smashing mirrors didn't seem to phase the Australian in the slightest. She'd broken the blue-haired swindler's mirror. And that was a hell of a lot more offensive than a slamming door.

Lucy wanted to ask how she was supposed to know Penny even cared. After all this, she couldn't readily recall a moment that explicitly told her such a concept. "If you don't want to, don't." She replied instead. It was almost comforting to hear that she did care. Until she wished she didn't.

She stood surprised when she was accused of not caring how painful it had been for her to see. She didn't even know what she did see. Lucy furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head; that was too illogical for both of them.

Her mind simply couldn't process the idea that Evony had, at any time, legitimately been in love with her. She exhaled every ounce of breath she had, feeling her insides struggle against the notion of being physically breathless. She couldn't respond to it. It was impossible.

So she went another way;

"Okay, honestly? Yeah, I do. I draw every person I sleep with." Despite how tempting it was to dumb down the fact, it was still a fact. "Because I don't sleep with everyone. Anyone I've ever shared a bed with is so fucking important to me." Dom. Sawyer. Lyra. Even Evony. Platonic or not, they were her people. And being penalised for that was the most frustrating part of it all.

She waved a hand in the Brit's direction, taking a step forward within her next revelation; "If you can feel how I feel about other people, why the hell can't you feel how I feel about you!"

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

A frustrated sigh escaped Penny’s lips. If it were that simple, it would have been done. She couldn’t just stop any feelings towards the Australian, and she knew that she didn’t want to, either. Just at the moment, it was too much to handle them.

Penelope’s eyes widened as the conversation took a sharp turn back to her first question. It was impossible to keep track of where they were going, and the subject change only made her head pound more.

She blinked a couple times, trying to process the information thrown at her. Naturally, she wanted to twist Lucy’s words – to hear them in a negative tone. It would be easier to stay angry with the Australian that way.

“Pardon?” She didn’t even consider that Lucy had not been sleeping with Evony, and the light on the conversation made the Brit feel extremely ignorant. It didn’t change her anger, however. “You could have said that to begin with!” She still knew what she saw, and felt. Regardless of the information, she knew that something had been there.

Penelope held her ground as Lucy stepped forward. She refused to waver, even if her hands were shaking. “I don’t even know how you feel about me!” she snapped back, “I can’t know if you don’t tell me!"

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"I meant what I said when I fucking said it, you idiot." Lucy interjected, well aware that a sliver of fight in Penny's tone had diminished. "It's just. You!" "And even if it wasn't, this is bullshit! You wouldn't get to be angry at me. We're not- You're not-"

Her voice cut abruptly short. She didn't need to say it. Not again. At the very least, she knew Penny would know where she was going.

Lucy exhaled an incredibly frustrated groan at the fact that she just didn't get it. "You can feel all that from someone you don't even know but you don't get a damn thing from me?" She asked, struggling with how ridiculously stupid that sounded. She wasn't about to say anything she felt.

Rather, she breached the remaining distance and pressed her hand to the back of Penny's, forcing her to reach up and curl her fingers around the fabric of the Lucy's shirt.

She could at the very least offer every ounce of agonising memories that came with the clothes she wore that day. The stress she felt for the situation. The stubborn nature that tried convincing her she should never give her belongings back. That she should forever maintain that final connection. The feeling of surety - that there was absolutely no way this girl would want anything to do with her ever again.

But overall, how utterly sorely her presence in the ink manipulator's life had been missed.

Lucy stared her down, daring her with a look of unwavering confidence. She still didn't understand what it was, but if it carried an emotional recall, she wanted it done.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy repeating that it was only Penny was almost comforting, until the Australian opened her mouth again.

Penelope shut her eyes tightly at Lucy’s words. She knew where the Australian was going, and she didn’t need to hear it. It was only a harsh reminder of the obvious. There was, in theory, nothing holding them together. No defined relationship or expectations.

She kept quiet, knowing well that she wasn’t in a place to repeat what she had said the last time Lucy pointed it out.

Penelope hadn’t been expected to have her hand snatched up, and thus didn’t have time to put a stopper on her ability. She had no choice but to watch as she felt the soft fabric between her fingers.

She was in Lucy’s destroyed room, staring at the bag. It hadn’t been moved or even touched in a week. Penelope felt as Lucy sunk her teeth down on her lower lip – the turmoil inside her. Everything raw emotion was there as she stared at the bag. But most present was the emptiness felt without her there. How much Lucy honestly missed her.

Penny’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric as she slowly let out a long, shaky breath. As she was brought back to the moment, she felt disoriented briefly. The Brit shook her head; her gaze had been fixed on their hands, but she slowly brought it up to meet Lucy’s.

“You’re wrong.” She stated, her voice lowering to almost a whisper. “I don’t want to let you go.” Penelope desperately wanted to explain her own feelings. How she, too, missed the Australian. How in that moment she completely and utterly regretted painting her room. She couldn’t find the words, however. They were stuck in her throat.

Instead, the Brit gave a short nod in the direction of the broken mirror and the hand print that still remained on her wall.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy watched her with intention - she knew by now that these things took a sliver of time. One moment she looked absolutely infuriated, and in the next she was back.

Despite the conviction behind her words, she knew she struggled to believe that. It wouldn't have gone this way if part of her didn't want to let go. She wouldn't have said so if she didn't.

Lucy turned her head to stare at whatever was supposed to make things clearer for her.

And when she looked back at Penny, she was more than surprised.

It went against everything she understood when she overtly resisted the urge to kiss her. She knew how easy it would be; that it was the simplest way to prove with conviction that she had some feelings for her. An emotional response her counterpart could only possibly discovered if she stopped resisting the natural progression of things between them. But it was just that. It was too easy.

"How am I supposed to know when you want me to chase you?" Lucy asked her instead. She felt like her biggest mistake was not finding the means to travel ahead; "I'm not that smart." Because by proxy, Penny made her feel like an idiot.