AU: Hunger Life Again

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope watched the way Lucy’s eyes squeezed shut. She felt her throat tighten as the air caught in her lungs from seeing this woman in such distress.

She desperately wished to amend this. To tell the Australian that she didn’t have to. That she could somehow call everything off and just stay here. Just the two of them.

But she didn't really have a choice at this point.

Her hand pushed through dark locks, trying her best to somehow offer a form of comfort for Lucy. Because there was nothing Penelope could to change the fact that her love would be marrying her brother this afternoon.

"I am truly sorry."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy found some comfort in the way she brushed a hand through her hair. How it revealed just a little more of her face for her newfound counterpart to see. As much as she wanted to change the look on her face - to keep this moment as it was and that inevitability in its own place - she simply couldn't.

Reality was all but calling for the ill-trained ink manipulator, and there was only so long she could keep it at bay. But she loved her. Evidently, she had for some time from a distance. The thought that she would have to again offered the worst imaginable torture.

Keeping her eyes closed, she exhaled an incredibly shallow breath. She felt the weight of the apology pressed to her skin and without a look she moved, pressing her hand against the bed and hauling herself up. Unruly dark hair spilled over her shoulders and her free hand tracked across her jaw before running through it all and dragging it out of her face.

"I suppose you're supposed to help me." She said finally, eyes opening only as she turned towards the edge of the bed.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As her counterpart sat up, Penelope’s gaze shifted with her movement, dark eyes lingering on the line of her back for a few spare beats before she slowly followed. The lack of contact already felt jarring, and so Penelope placed her palm lightly to the small of her back.

“I am.” She replied honestly. It was her job to prep the bride; to make sure this day was as perfect for her as the Blaise parents felt it should be. Somehow, Penelope struggled to imagine such a vision. Especially now.

As Lucy shifted, Penelope lifted her free hand, pushing back the dark hair that she caused to fall out of place only moments before. It trailed downward, along the line of her face before lingering at the Australian’s jaw.

She wanted to kiss her again. The psychometrist could feel the desire burning in her chest as she looked at this woman she loved so intently. “In any way I can.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy raised her shoulders as she felt a familiar hand settle against her back, straightening it on instinct. She felt the words shift across her shoulder where they'd settled. Slowly they followed the curve of her side, finding comfort in their usual home at her ribs instead.

Before she managed to really turn herself away, she was caught within her hands. The gentle connotations of her fingertips through her hair and across her jaw forced her hardened expression to falter and soften.

In any way she could.

Closing her eyes again, the Australian reached out to take the hand to her face. She dragged her counterpart's fingers to her mouth, applying light pressure in the form of a small kiss. "You should get dressed." She replied against them, but the words felt foreign in her mouth and sounded so as they passed her lips. Like it was the worst possible option in the world. Like it shouldn't have even been an option.

Letting go and turning away, her eyes trailed to the specific set of clothes; neatly pressed and hung in the most daunting way. "And then help me into that."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope watched the way the ink shifted across Lucy’s back. Her dark eyes widened from it; it was a known fact that Lucy was a meta. It was part of the reason she was marrying her brother. However, seeing her ability was, in a word, awe-inspiring. Beautiful, just as she was.

Despite the facts that hung over them, and the ticking of the clock, Penelope couldn’t help but to notice the way Lucy’s features softened. And she was thankful that she could give this woman she loved something in the form of comfort. Even if it hardly helped the situation at hand.

Even the smallest kisses grabbed Penelope’s attention as she ran her fingertip across the bottom of Lucy’s lip. However, her expression turned as the Australian spoke. Such words didn’t sound right in that moment. They shouldn’t have been right. Her nose crinkled in a look of involuntary distaste at the thought.

“I should.” She agreed quietly, but still, the Brit made no move to get up quite yet. Instead, she leaned forward and lightly pressed her lips to Lucy’s. Because she didn’t know when she would have this woman again. If she would have her again. For what she knew, Penelope wouldn’t have the chance to kiss Lucy again.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Stern words simply didn't suit Lucy. Trying to be any kind of stoic was proving to be futile as this woman seemed to deter her at every turn. Every hold she tried to keep disintegrated from a touch. A look. The sound of her voice, even.

She couldn't even make the definite move to turn away as she'd intended, because Penelope was moving towards her and she was stagnant within the thought. She couldn't stop the way she leaned back in when she kissed her. Simple as it seemed, it was absolutely everything. So much so that it forced the Australian to rethink her attempt completely.

Already she was breathless. She knew it before she drew away. She knew it from the fact that she could barely create distance as she held her eyes closed.

Because she was beautiful. Wonderful. Perfect. There wasn't sliver of doubt or a disclaiming adjective about it.

"If you don't stop," She paused to take in a heavy, shallow breath against her lips. Amidst the phrase - the need to breathe - there was an evident plea, and a white-hot admission, "I won't stop."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

FtB

Time was continually passing; it was impossible to stop it. But just as impossible was Penelope’s ability to stop. Had she been able to find the willpower to do so, she doubted that she would have regardless. It was never like Penelope Blaise to simply ignore a more pressing matter, but in this case she felt this – this woman, her love for her – was the more pressing matter.

It was more important than the wedding she was supposed to be helping with.

She pressed her forehead to Lucy’s shoulder, kissing her collarbone gently as she tried to find the means to pull away from this woman. The little time they had left was even less, now, and she knew someone would come looking for the bride if she wasn’t ready soon.

So Penelope forced herself to lift her head, lips brushing across the Australian’s cheek. “I love you.” She said, desperation lining her tone as she finally began to pull away.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

She didn't stop. And with nothing to keep her from doing so, neither did Lucy. It was almost too easy to falter to this woman, because she was playing it all far better than the Australian could. She didn't stop. Lucy didn't want her to stop. She didn't want her to have to.

Time burned with the effervescence of the moment. The series of moments. Every touch and sound and movement she'd allowed herself to give in to yet again. It trult was the most wonderful expression she'd ever been privy to; the very best she'd ever been given.

She breathed through it all - shaken as it was - as she focused on the way her newfound counterpart's lips brushed across her skin. From her collarbone to her cheek, which forced Lucy to sink her teeth into her lower lip. The words hit her with such physical force, but the way she moved as Lucy had only minutes ago was the most painful of all.

Lucy dragged herself up, her expression dashed with distraught connotations as she moved to the edge of the bed. Feet to the floor, hands pressed into the mattress at either side.

"I know you do." She finally replied, drawing a hand across the length of her face again as she kept her gaze to the floor. She couldn't look, and she couldn't watch her rebuild everything Lucy had so delicately taken apart. "And I love you."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope knew she had to move; when the Australian had tried to do so, Penelope kept her there, and she couldn’t allow that to happen again. Had she the option to, the Brit would have given everything to her newfound counterpart. Again.

If stopping wasn’t an option – the only option – Penelope wouldn’t have chosen it. Even then, it didn’t feel like a choice at all.

As she moved to the edge of the bed, her own gaze shifted from Lucy with a short breath. “I know.” Penelope repeated. She truly did understand that connection she felt with the Australian. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she loved her.

She took another breath, entertained the idea of staying here with Lucy Serrano and forgetting what was determined outside the bedroom door, before finally pushing herself up. “Will you help me?”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

There was comfort to be found in the response Lucy was given. Because she believed it completely. There was absolutely no way someone would throw themselves so far out of line for anything less than real love.

Not a single person would risk everything for nothing. And only the best would be willing to take the risk at all.

Lucy still chose not to look as she felt the weight shift around her; that she'd left the bed they shared as she herself could not. Hands ran across the sheets slowly, as if she searched for a reminder of something lost.

"How can I?" She asked, genuinely. But the inflection shifted focus. It wasn't a question of what she could do to help, but how she was supposed to bring herself to do so. How was she supposed to even look, let alone cover what she so desperately wanted to keep.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

The answer made sense, but it still had surprised Penelope greatly. She widened her eyes, lips pressing together as she felt genuinely bad for having to ask for such a request. She knew the pain of the thought, because without a doubt she would be helping the Australian in to the white dress hanging only meters away.

“I cannot tie a corset by myself.” She admitted, glancing to her clothes on the chair. Layers upon layers, and there had always been a person there to help with it all. Honestly, she didn’t wish for the Australian to dress her now that she had done the reverse.

She turned back to Lucy, expression softening just from looking at her. Despite the looming facts she couldn’t push from her mind, Lucy Serrano was absolutely beautiful, and Penelope couldn’t help the way she reacted to that.

She hesitated before reaching out again, fingers brushing back the mess of dark hair that covered some of Lucy’s features.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Silence fell, radiating through the room and keeping it still. Lucy didn't look, but when she finally spoke she at the very least managed to open her eyes. Tension. Tense. It was tense. This was tense. The thought of having to put her hands on her newfound counterpart and dress her made her tense. The thought of being dressed in return, let alone in something white, made her tense.

It was all a silent argumentative defiance. But there was nothing to argue against. Nothing to fight. There was no choice, here. Not in this life.

Finally, she managed to turn her attention back towards her. Her dark eyes settled within hers for a brief moment, the muscles in her neck determined not to let her tilt her head down by any amount. She took a breath, shallow as it was underneath her touch. Any contact felt dangerous; far too enthralling to deny and so she leaned into it.

She looked down, finally, her gaze traversing the length of the form so growingly familiar underneath her hands. She leaned in and pressed her lips against her stomach. Moments later her hands left the bed, tracking across the contours of her body to settle at her hips. Against her, she felt the pressure to agree. To say that she'd help. To offer to do it now. But her hands applied pressure, holding on as the words refused to flow. There, she left another kiss against her skin, pressure threatening to try and draw her in yet again as her lips lingered the third time she offered them.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

When Penelope caught her dark eyes, she almost gave in. She wanted to give in and give herself completely to the Australian sitting in front of her. More than anything, she did not want to help dress this woman in white and then watch as she was handed off to her brother. Had there been another choice – another option – Penelope would have taken it. Would have offered it to this woman she loved so intently.

The Brit didn’t move as Lucy’s gaze traveled down her form. If she could give the Australian anything, at the very least she could stay still under her gaze.

Her breath faltered as she felt now familiar lips press to her stomach. She felt tension shoot through her jaw in an attempt to maintain some sort of composure. Because she was supposed to be getting dressed. To help her get dressed. And within those three delicate kisses, Penelope felt herself slipping as she so desired to.

“I cannot ask you to stop.” Nor would she if she had the capacity. Penelope kept her fingers tangled in dark locks, gently drawing them from the Australian’s face.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Again, the necessary phrases settled at the back of Lucy's throat. She could feel the precision required to offer as such. But to revert to the way she'd tried and failed to be remotely distant felt futile. She wasn't done. And it was clear enough from the way she breathed that she wasn't, either.

Time. A relevant factor. A burning factor, alight at both ends.

The words she offered forced the Australian to exhale a sharp breath. It wasn't what she expected, but then, she had no idea what to expect in a situation like this. If denying her had seemed impossible, was it truly to be believed that such a concept was reciprocated? The phrase felt familiar, the threat of repetitive behaviour burned brighter than the dwindling minutes at hand.

Because standing there, still and stolen, she was wasting time.

"Then I won't." Lucy replied finally, her voice light - as delicate as the way she'd only just brushed her lips across her skin. Pressure from her hands worked to persuade her back to the bed completely; back to herself. "Not now. Not yet."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As anxious as Penelope felt about the continuous flow of time, she couldn’t let the urgency change the gentle connotations in which she pushed back her newfound counterpart’s hair. Still, she felt the slight tremble in her fingers as she looked to the Australian.

As she felt burning breath expel across her stomach, the psychometrist felt her own catch in her throat. She couldn’t help but to close her eyes, her willpower continually slipping under this woman’s lips.

And it was lost completely when she spoke. The breath Penelope held was lost, pushed from her lungs in a forced exhale. There was no way she could deny the Australian, and the smallest amount of pressure to her back was more than enough encouragement.

She took the half step that distanced them, easing her counterpart back slightly as she made her way back into the bed. The thought of responding crossed Penelope’s mind, but it was dismissed as she leaned in and pressed her lips to Lucy’s.