Caught in the Waves

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy had no intention of letting go of the fabric she held to intently. She wasn't waiting for a sudden shift; she wasn't ready for it. But she had to - back still against the headboard of her bed as she seemed to settle beside her.

The words felt recycled; re-breathed and given new life. They were stripped of the cutting, arrogant intention the ink manipulator had laced them with. She never thought to apply them to this. At least, not in the way Penny was choosing to. She'd considered how difficult it must be for her before, and given her apparent distaste for the ability she carried, Lucy could only assume it was a negative reaction.

But now, it didn't sound negative.

Being told she was right was a fair, decent boost for the ego. It always was, regardless of the moment or the intention. But it wasn't something to dwell on either way; she shifted down beside her in response to the hand at the back of her neck that requested it of her. It was impossible not to be completely wrapped in the way she was acting. Jarring as it was, such a connection hadn't been made by the Australian. It was improbable not to indulge. Penny was trying, and doing anything less than adhering to that attempt would have been detrimental.

Reaching out towards her, Lucy bypassed the material she held loosely in her fingers, grazing her hand across the curve of her counterpart's hip. Settling her palm in the small of her back, she offered new pressure to rid them of that residual distance.

"What're you saying?" Lucy asked, her voice falling slightly low as she leaned in, brushing the tip of her nose against hers.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

The hand that crossed her hip drew a sharp breath out of the Brit, her own nails dragging across the back of Lucy’s neck. She was thankful the Australian settled – that the distance between them was at a bare minimum. Any closer and she could have kissed the ink manipulator again. She was the perfect distraction.

Her nose crinkled as she felt the light contact against it, but it did little to deter the Brit now that she found herself in this position. With her counterpart this close, however, it was almost impossible not to indulge in everything Lucy Serrano was – and she wanted to, but getting what she wanted to say out felt like a priority.

Because there were too few moments between them when she could. If Penny didn’t take advantage of it now – consciously or not – there wouldn’t be sure knowledge as to when the psychometrist could pluck up her courage to do so again.

“I’m saying,” she started, “That I never thought this would happen.” Penny’s tone insured the lightness in her statement. “Not just us—” Because really, who could have seen that coming? “— but everything.” Sex. Love. Any sort of connection at all. “I stopped question why I couldn’t feel anything because you came along and changed it all.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy couldn't help the breath of laughter she offered at the tell tale way Penny crinkled her nose. It was second nature, she knew, and those second nature reactions were quite possibly some of the best. They were the very thing that made her her.

She nodded once, well aware that she didn't think this would happen. That they would happen. It was a sentiment shared, but in that moment it was short lived.

Because it wasn't just them. Or this.

To be the thing that made that change was, in a word, unbelievable. Lucy knew how similar the statement felt - she'd painted a galaxy on a ceiling for a girl because she wanted her to see more. To realise more; maybe even be more. More than she could see in herself at the very least.

"I didn't change anything. It's not new. You're not a different person." She tried, lightly. While she didn't want to stifle or even deter her counterpart, she couldn't help herself.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny’s hand dropped to Lucy’s shoulder, fingers curling around it as she shifted a leg to move between hers. As imperative what she was trying to give her counterpart was, the Brit couldn’t help the overbearing need to close every millimeter of distance between them. It was intoxicating – she was – but it also drove her point, and thus couldn’t stop.

“You did though.” She argued, although her tone didn’t reflect the usual irritation it carried when she tried to defend a point. The only emotions that pulled away from her lightness was the hint of desperation for her to understand.

“It’s all new.” Her lips brushed against Lucy’s with each word. Every breath the Australian took felt heated against her skin. Still, Penny couldn’t indulge just yet. Her hand shifted from Lucy’s shoulder down her arm lightly. “I didn’t think I could love someone. Or even that someone would love me. And then you came in and just—you were perfect.”

She let out a short laugh of her own, nose crinkling as it brushed against her counterpart’s again. “You came along and I was desperate to have a taste of you again. I was sure I hated you, but I still wanted your attention, and that never happened before.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It was impossible to take a decent breath as Penny breached the distance further; skin to skin contact feeling far too intoxicating given the importance of the conversation at hand.

Change was a harsh word - one Lucy didn't really understand in the current context. She wished to dismantle the idea of changing her before it got any weight behind it. But she was desperate to continue. Lucy could hear it in the way she spoke, so she made no effort to cut in.

The colour in her cheeks darkened at the idea of perfection - of how ill-fitting the word felt on her skin. Each new thing Penny offered tracked across her features slowly, searing heated lines into her expression; she smiled. Broadly. And she took a breath.

The hand at her waist tightened on instinct, nails dragging across the material of the shirt that fit her so ridiculously well. Her fingers filtered down, trailing along the hem slowly before sliding underneath. The simple need for further contact was just as imperative as talking in return.

If she could. She opened her mouth and willed a response to flow, but initially nothing came.

It was unfair, but Lucy refused to allow herself to falter. Not now. Not here.

"The first time we-" A pause for her psychometric counterpart. Where the Australian would usually opt for a brash comparison word or the literal, she didn't. She took a moment - a necessary break for the level of comfort for the one she loved. "The first time I touched you and you let me."

Still, Lucy was still Lucy. To completely withdraw herself was impossible.

But she couldn't possibly be derailed from where she was. Not now, "The very first time, I couldn't think. I couldn't stop - I couldn't even consider keeping my hands off you. I wanted you so badly I couldn't believe it; I've never felt that before. Ever." Again, she exhaled on an amused breath. Anything to shake the wavering thread of an awkward moment. "The idea of letting it go just.... Wasn't an option. You had to know that I got you- that I understood you. Enough to know that I had you."

Leaning in without fail, the ink manipulator pressed her lips against hers. Given the context, the desire to was ridiculous. "Fuck, I needed you." She added on a breath, tilting her head slightly to brush the tip of her nose across her cheek.

"Like really, desperately needed you." In that moment, she paused briefly. To continue on felt threateningly bold; "And I knew you needed it, too."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

To the Brit, change didn’t have the same negative influences her counterpart took them for, at least not when it came to her own personal being. Penelope Blaise was a robot; the girl who was invisible, if not only known as the classmate who was impossibly pedantic. There wasn’t a spark that fueled her life like the roaring Australian had. She was an active volcano; Penny had barely been breathing before her counterpart’s ashes heated her lungs.

Her breath wavered as she felt such a familiar hand finally press to her skin. The contact was deterring on its own, but Penny made sure to keep her focus. She wasn’t done.

But neither was she. It was almost jarring to hear Lucy pause – for her to speak about the subject with a delicate touch. The twitch of Penny’s eyebrows as they moved upward gave away her surprise, but she remained quiet, letting the ink manipulator get a chance to actually continue.

She couldn’t help but to smile at the reference. How particularly Lucy worded herself. It forced Penny to take in a breath, about to immediately let it go on a laugh before it caught in her chest with what followed.

Everything Lucy offered caught the Brit within a new, overwhelming wave. She could have agreed that it seemed clear that neither of them were thinking. That the first moment of complete intimacy was inevitable. Not just hard, but impossible to stop. But the threat of stopping the Australian from talking was worse than getting another word in. Still, she made sure Lucy knew she was being acknowledged with a small squeeze of her arm.

And before she could offer a reply, she felt Lucy’s lips against her own. The surprise of everything her counterpart offered brought the color back to her cheeks, but it didn’t falter the psychometrist from kissing her counterpart back. The reciprocation was a beat late, the delay brought on by trying to simply take in everything Lucy gave, but when she finally matched paced it made her chest tighten.

Already, Penny felt breathless. Like every word Lucy said pounded against her chest enough to force all of the air out of it completely. To keep herself from trying to follow wasn’t an option, but she missed the ink manipulator’s lips as her nose brushed the trajectory of Penny’s cheek.

“I did need you.” Penny’s tilted her head to the light contact, encouraging it as she always did. “I still desperately need you, Lucy.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Every reaction Penny gave became every indicator Lucy needed; in every moment it was a shot of perfection to keep her talking - to stop her from being caught in the idea that she might need to shut up before she spoke too far. Before she became too overwhelming.

But it was all a thought - or a long standing series of thoughts she'd been carrying for far too long; until her counterpart was ready. Until right now.

The confirmation was astounding. To know she was right about something so defined ripped the stable air from her lungs on a breath, forcing her to exhale against her cheek without the means to falter.

"I don't think it goes away." Lucy replied anyway, pressing her lips lightly against her ear, "Not with you."

It was a broad statement. Potentially daunting. But the low connotations of the Australian's tone were brightly laced with a definite belief as she drew back to catch her eyes; "I don't think I'll ever stop."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Nothing was guaranteed. They had both agreed on that very thought earlier that morning, but the belief that lined her counterpart’s tone was undeniable. And more than anything, Penny wished to believe it true.

Her own desperate need for Lucy Serrano still shone as brightly as it did that first time. It was all just as new as it was then. Fresh despite how familiar her hands felt. If her own feelings hadn’t faltered within that time, how could she doubt that they ever would? That the feelings she felt her feel would, too?

Catching Lucy’s gaze, Penny felt caught in the silence. Captivated by how bright her dark eyes looked. Eye contact felt imperative, even as she resisted the urge to glance at Lucy’s lips or the color she wore so well.

“It doesn’t have to stop.” She replied slowly, “Because I don’t think anything can pull me away from you.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Being so definite was usually uncomfortable. Lucy never quite knew how to believe in anything that intently. Things could shift on a dime - their own relationship was proof of that. But the longer she stayed, the more she struggled to see what might force them to ever part ways.

It didn't have to stop. She knew that. She believed it. Lucy couldn't stop the relieved breath she exhaled at the idea that she believed it too.

In that moment, the ink manipulator leaned in to kiss her again. She dragged the motion out for as long as she possibly could on the air she carried. But a familiar phrase burned at the edge of her tongue as she ran it along the length of her lower lip before drawing back. Just a little. Just enough.

"-A universe." Lucy managed, the former half of her statement caught from the lack of a decent breath.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As Lucy leaned forward, Penny did so within the same motion, meeting her counterpart half way to get a taste of her lips again. Any thoughts of pulling away seemed frugal when the spark of a connection made between them burned so brightly. The single, sharp inhale she took was more a natural reaction to the tongue that ran the line of her lip than any desire to pull away.

Penny leaned forward again, having every intention on picking up where they were left off; the need to kiss her counterpart again was too much to handle. At least, until she spoke.

A universe. It felt surprisingly personal despite the lack of context. Penny’s eyebrows knitted together as she paused in her movement. Even so, she could feel each breath Lucy took as it dusted her skin.

“Pardon?” She asked on a shallow exhale, trying to hold Lucy’s gaze as she resisted the urge to look up at the white ceiling above them.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The frozen moment in time did little to deter Lucy's thoughts. She knew what she meant by the fragmented sentence she offered; she recalled the context. She recalled the last time this idea scorched her mentality so intently that she couldn't possibly ignore it. But her mouth failed to meet her mind, and she'd allowed the idea to fizzle and burn out under pressure.

Being questioned was a small hit of that pressure; of the need to explain herself. It was never as good when she had to explain it, and she worked to berate herself for failing. Again. Half off the mark seemed better than no where at all. A jump to early better than a step away from the podium.

"You. A universe." She leaned in with the instinct, kissing her again for a spare set of moments.

Without a breath to catch or keep. "You're my-"

This time, the end of her sentence cut short, falling away to the absolute need to breathe.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

A universe. The last thing Penny had expected her counterpart to say was exactly what she had. The psychometrist recalled the sensitive subject; how her ceiling still looked painfully white compared to what it had. How much it meant for it to be recreated in an art room on her birthday.

And now it was being offered here. In the context of a person.

The fragmented sentence hadn’t bothered the Brit, she was too caught up in what her counterpart had said instead of the broken way in which passed her lips. The kiss between them completely catching Penny as her hand moved to Lucy’s side, the feeling of her skin burning her palm.

The confidence Penny picked up hadn’t quite faded, but she was still completely overwhelmed by the Australian. It forced her heart to jump into her throat, and as breathless as both she and her counterpart were, Penny pressed forward again to kiss Lucy, reverting back to the one response she knew would drive her point.

Because nothing she could say could be enough to express how she felt about this girl.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Amidst the fallen fragments of her now-third attempt at an explanation, Lucy felt the overbearing desire to belittle herself for her inability. For someone so skilled, so attuned and so adept at words, she was feeling the pain of faltering over the necessary. Being born, becoming a universe. The idea she'd believed since she'd been told it rang so fresh in her mind. Like she'd only just given her the concept days ago. Those days were months. It hadn't been since her birthday that she even mentioned it. Now it was all she could think about.

Once tried, all that seemed left was a final stab at repetition or the standard, most basic approach she understood. The decision was made for her, thankfully, and without fail she pressed herself forward into the idea completely.

For someone who put so much weight in words, Lucy was now done with them. Done with failing. And so her hand tracked back along her skin, leaving the comfort of the contact long enough to start pulling at the buttons that kept her covered. The shirt she'd only really just put on. The catalyst. She so desperately wanted it gone that as she broke the top button through she dragged her mouth away, pressing her lips to each newly exposed ounce of skin as she worked her way downwards.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Note: FtB

A universe. Her universe. It resonated in Penny’s mind as her fingers curled into the sheets, back arching under Lucy’s touch. Every reformed breath that forced itself from her lungs carried more. Never had Penny believed she held back with her counterpart, but it was impossible from keeping the sounds that passed her lips. Control was never an option, but the Brit felt herself slipping in a different way – she couldn’t stop the audible reactions she gave.

Her free hand moved to Lucy’s hair, raking trembling fingers through her dark locks. Her own hair sprawled over their normally shared pillow as she tilted her head back, eyes squeezed shut on another lung-burning breath. When the shake of her form finally subsided, Penny was sure she could feel her fingers twitch with every forceful beat of her heart.

Another breath, and the psychometrist still couldn’t manage to hold it for long. The thought of trying to speak failed her, let alone any real attempt to try. So she remained quiet, feeling the fragmented flow of air through her parted lips, her hand leaving the comfort of her counterpart’s hair in favor of searching for her hand.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy never honestly considered it a choice to control over a general difference. The way she breathed was easily her greatest tell - it was every indicator that something was right or even wrong. A more verbal switch wasn't totally uncommon, but there, the vociferous nature she'd taken on was truly rare. She only ever recalled hearing anything like it once before, and that was when her counterpart was hardly of a sound mind.

Truth be told, in the moment it started and amidst the throws of it all, she wasn't about to stop and question it.

Lifting her head up, the ink manipulator flicked her gaze towards the psychometrist the moment her fingers untangled from her hair. The rise and fall of her chest caught her gaze for a spare few moments before she continued on to catch her expression. She reached out, interlocking her fingers with hers and offering the familiar hand a light squeeze.

And she tilted her head to the side, pressing her lips against her thigh. She lingered against it for a moment longer, the curve of her mouth growing on instinct to a defined grin before she made another move to drag herself closer. She was sure it was important not to look smug about it, but she could hardly help that.