Bring Me Sunlight

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Every individual page had a memory associated within it. Penny could feel it as her thumb brushed along the edge, a hundred prickles of thoughts and feelings wanting to enter her psychometric mind. She thought to pull her hand away; it was her usual instinct to physically draw herself away. The easiest solution, but for once Penny longed to actually feel the physical book beneath her hand.

But her mind slipped with the unexpected noise. A ringing; enough to draw her attention away from her ability enough to throw her into it.

It was barely a few seconds – an older memory. Fragmented with the time it had imprinted itself onto the page. Still, she felt the pen held within her hand. Precise, smooth lines trailing across the page before she shifted the pen into her left hand, picking up on the opposite side of the page another stroke.

And within the next moment, the ringing hit her ears again, and she felt familiar lips brush against her cheek. Penny thought to turn, to try and capture her lips once before she inevitably stepped away, but she was a beat too late.

Her own fingers curled into the book as it was handed off to her, and she took a step out of the way, making sure she was out of the frame of Lucy’s web camera. But she stayed within the room, because she said it was fine to.

It was impossible not to listen. Not completely. Even with her eyes back on the book, she picked up another accented voice. A quick glance gave her sight of Lucy’s mother. Dark hair and eyes like the ink manipulator herself.

Lucky. Penny felt the pressure of her lips as they threatened to pull upward.

She remained silent, hopefully unnoticed as she followed the conversation. Still, she turned to the next page, surprised to see another page of herself, and she wondered just how much of this book was filled with it. It couldn’t be every one, could it?

But Penny glanced up again, eyebrows pulling up with curiosity. It was morning there – so why were they traveling four hours before? She pulled the book closer to herself, finding light amusement in the way Lucy tried to look as if it would somehow change the view of the camera. With another small step, she edged backwards, to watch from a distance.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Pressing her lips into a line, Lucy failed to hide her disappointment. She barely got enough face time as it was, and the irrational side of her saw a significant issue with that. So she remained silent, the nature of her silence having gone completely noticed.

"What's wrong?"

Immediately, she raised her eyebrows, her back straightening; "Nothing."

A word which warranted a small, short laugh from her mother. "Nothing never means nothing." Drawing her teeth into her lower lip, Lucy pondered the all too familiar phrase as she shifted her feet around, pressing them to the edge of the desk and leaning back when; "Do not swing on your chair."

She eased herself back down before she really made it off the ground.

"Don't make me say it."

And she didn't. Instead, she pressed on; "How's school?" To an even worse subject.

"Good." The ink manipulator lied, holding the air in her lungs.

"Good?"

"Awesome, even."

"Great." The strain in her mother's tone was evident, and hardly lost. "You'll have to explain how that equates to a failing grade in your history class." Tension. Lucy raised her fingers to run them along the length of her jaw, searching for the non-existent itch that suddenly plagued her skin. Again, she said nothing. She didn't need to. "How?"

"American history is really fucked!"

"Lucy."

"It's really-" A pause. She raised a hand to search for an appropriate word that wasn't a swear. It opted for prolonged seconds of silence.

"I know." The proverbial voice of reason cut through the quiet Lucy created, but it hardly let the tension she wore ease. "But." There was always a but, "The sooner you try, the sooner you'll graduate. And the sooner you graduate, the sooner you can put some thought into what you're doing next."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As the conversation continued, Penny’s attention completely shifted to the conversation she wasn’t a part of. Never having seen Lucy interact with her family before, she Brit’s curiosity was sparked. The ink manipulator had stated her mother was a teacher, and that much was evident within her tone.

Watching the pair as best as she could, Penny let out a short breath. Nothing never means nothing. Wasn’t that the truth. She learned it early on with Lucy, at least she wasn’t the only person she tried that on. If anything, her silence was enough to prove that it was true, something was bothering her.

As Lucy pushed herself back in the chair, Penny’s lips parted on instinct, silently wishing to tell her counterpart to keep them on the floor, and she was thankful the Australian mother managed it first. It was just surprising how Lucy actually listened without a fight.

Upon the subject of school, Penny’s interest spiked even more. She hadn’t completely talked to her counterpart about her grades, other than reminding her that she actually needed to attend class, despite knowing there had been a small handful of days where she didn’t attend because of the Brit herself. It was selfish, but when she knew exactly how to capture Penny’s attention, it was hard to stop.

But she hadn’t been expecting to hear Lucy was failing.

Her eyes widened in genuine surprise, immediately wondering how long she knew about the fact without telling Penny. Her argument was hardly sound, and Penny felt the desire to voice that herself, but remained quiet as her mother continued.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"I know." The definite words were quick from the Australian's mouth. The future was on everyone's lips, it seemed. In everyone's eyes but her own. She felt it more and more as time went on, and it seemed like it was becoming a bigger issue with each passing day.

"And I know it seems easy to just-" The stall in her mother's voice was, admittedly, rare. Like she fought the urge to continue as her voice faded out rather than simply stopping.

"No dropping out." She replied quickly, raising her hand to her forehead and snapping off a small salute, "Reading you loud and clear, ma'am."

A sigh. Heavy from the other end of the line and incredibly justified. The corner of Lucy's mouth dragged to a smile, something more genuine than a grin or a smirk could ever supply as her mentality faltered and she threw a look to the other person physically in the room. To her psychometric counterpart. To the reason she didn't want to fail. The reason why she was trying to look forward.

"Lucky?"

A quick turn of her head. "Yeah, mum. Still listening."

"You never told me how it healed." She offered, a lighter touch of disapproval to her voice.

But the subject change was, admittedly, incredibly welcome. Though her foot was pressed against the floor, it started to bounce in a manner she wasn't quite aware of, "Pretty much perfect." She replied on a laugh, "Tracking circles around my leg for weeks, though."

Her mother laughed at that. Quiet and light. Despite the way she felt about it, she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. It was a simple means to start something greater; "Your dad's talking about visits again."

"Me, there?"

"Him, there."

A sudden, complete deadpan. Like being caught and reduced to a younger version of herself; "Why would he even do that."

"I think he's curious." She dropped her voice. Just a little. Just enough.

"You can't let him do that. That's crazy." The stress in Lucy's tone lingered, unable to be completely stripped away as she raised a hand to run through her hair, "Save it for Nica's flights on break. She's dying to be home this year."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As worried as Penny was over the news of Lucy’s history class, to hear that she still had no plans to drop out put the Brit at ease. By the time Lucy flicked her wrist with a salute, Penny was already planning study sessions to help her catch up again.

Because she was graduating this year. The psychometrist would insure it. Future plans or not, this school was not the place for Lucy Serrano to stay. Everyone knew that, even her.

As Lucy looked to her, Penny couldn’t help but to notice her smile. It was far different from the grin she so often wore – softer, more genuine. And absolutely beautiful. There wasn’t a single thing wrong with that grin Penny both loved and hated, but there was something special about that smile. It forced her own lip to curve upward similarly. Uncontrollably as she stared back at her counterpart.

Just as Lucy’s attention shifted with the nickname, Penny’s had as well. Her dark eyes looked to the screen, feeling the line of her lip shift with a hint of amusement. Lucky. Again.

Despite the disapproving connotations within Lucy’s mother’s voice, there was an undeniable lightness to it. It was a significant shift from the strain from speaking of grades, or even how she told her daughter to not swing her chair. Penny rose her eyebrows, unsure exactly the woman’s position on Lucy’s tattoos. The Australian spoke of her father – how she was excited to tell him, but she failed to mention her mother’s thoughts over a fifteen year old getting a drunken tattoo in someone’s kitchen.

But her laugh gave more away than Penny expected. It was rare for her to be picking up on other’s in such away, but then again she never had reason to actually pay attention at all. Not before she cared.

The thought of visiting forced her to falter, fingers gripping tightly onto the book. It was only minutes before they were talking about how hard it was to leave, but she could hardly stop the ink manipulator from visiting her family. She wanted her to see them, but that distance was still painful to even consider.

But the thought of Lucy’s father visiting struck panic through the psychometrist. Her eyes widened at the prospects of meeting him – really, the idea of meeting any of Lucy’s family was terrifying. She didn’t imagine she’d do well with parents, especially Australian ones.

Penny shifted on her feet, tilting her head just slightly as if it would help her understand the situation better. To be honest, there was little she knew about the Serrano’s, but a flight halfway around the world certainly wasn’t inexpensive. She could only imagine it’d be hard to manage for any family.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"You don't think I've told him that?" Immediately, her mother started on the defence.

"I'll tell him." Lucy quickly reasoned, crossing her arms in front of her chest as the disbelief she wore struggling to find cover; "He doesn't even have a passport!"

To which, her mother laughed. Light and definitely amused by the fact; "I'll leave it with you, then."

"I'll do my absolute best."

Pause. A definite, real break in conversation. It was short lived, but it existed nonetheless. Lucy felt deftly aware that something of a more serious nature was threatening the conversation at hand. She shifted in her seat slightly, unfurling her arms and drawing her legs up.

"About the break, Lucy-"

"Mum," Lucy called, tilting her head up quickly to eradicate the panic she herself was threatening to wear.

She looked back for a spare moment, catching sight of the stirring individual on the couch behind her, "Shit." The small, almost silent word sounded completely rare from her; the way she nearly dropped it was proof enough of that, "Did you want me to-"

"Nah, it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

She frowned; "You didn't answer."

"We've got heaps of time." Lucy shrugged her shoulders, "I'm not really going anywhere."

"You'll be around tomorrow?"

"Can be, yeah."

"Your morning?"

The ink manipulator breathed a laugh instantly - uncontrollably, "Definitely not my morning."

"Alright." The corner of her mouth dragged further down, a stint of disapproval lining the singular word. "Bye, baby."

Immediately, she raised her hand into something of a small wave. "Yeah, okay."

With the disconnect of the call, the Australian leaned back in her seat, running her hands along the length of her face before raising her arms up in a lengthy stretch.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Within the break of conversation, Penny hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. As if the act of breathing would somehow disrupt something between the two Serrano women or draw too much attention to herself.

Even when they finally did start up again, Penny let go of the air trapped in her lungs, but very slowly. The tension still felt evident between them, and she briefly wondered if she should have been there at all. Before she could work to amend it, they were already speaking of talking another time. Penny couldn’t help the way her lips pressed together in a failed attempt to hide her amusement. Of course she wouldn’t be up in the morning. Usually by the time the ink manipulator crawled out of bed, it would have been late in the night for the rest of her family.

It was only when Penny was positive the call was over did she move, waiting a few spare moments before taking purposeful steps to her ink manipulator.

She moved behind the chair, fingertips brushing the length of one of Lucy’s outstretched arms. “Do you talk every day?” She asked lightly, tilting her head and leaning forward in an attempt to catch her eyes.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Closing her eyes amidst the imperative stretch, Lucy was practically unaware of any movement her counterpart made. Such moments were always exhausting and somewhat difficult to handle, but she liked to think she managed to survive the assault as she did every other day.

Her attention was quickly flagged by the familiar feeling of fingertips trailing along on of her arms. Forced to have no contact, the sudden acquired feeling dragged out the breath she was holding.

She dragged her eyes open again, tilting her head back to catch sight of the psychometrist again. "Nah. Only when they ask, usually. Which isn't that often." And the relief in her tone made it clear that she was grateful for such a fact. The slight excessive tilt of her own jaw brought forth a grin to the Australian's features. Anything to ask for more without having to ask. Anything to will her closer.

"Did you look through much?" Lucy asked, raising her eyebrows once.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Intentions and all, Penny hadn’t expected her visit to Lucy’s dorm to quite go like this. Everything was overwhelming in the best of ways – she wasn’t sure just how much more she could handle, but she sucked in a breath with the attempt to stay steady.

“I was waiting.” Penny replied, glancing back down to the third page before back up at Lucy. She wasn’t readily about to admit she had been completely drawn into listening in on the conversation, despite as obvious as that likely was. With another step, she moved to the side of Lucy’s chair, unable to resist that particular grin as she leaned down and kissed her lightly.

Denying her wasn’t an option, and Penny didn’t want to make it one. So she lingered against her lips a few spare beats – anything to draw it out before she inevitably had to pull away.

Still, her fingertips tracked to Lucy’s wrist and down her palm to take hold of her hand. “Come here.” She said, giving her hand a light squeeze as means to convince the Australian to stand.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"Mm." Lucy gave the short sound as an indication that she was listening. It went without saying that she was well aware her counterpart preferred to listen than to look through the excessive pages the ink manipulator provided. She took nothing negative from it; if the situation had been reversed, she knew without fail that she would have done the same, too.

Still, it hardly mattered now. And she couldn't stop the way her lips maintained that particular curve when Penny leaned in to kiss her. Even the smallest of encounters proved to be worth investing in.

Lucy took a small breath against her counterpart's lips as she lingered so closely. She allowed herself to be so completely engulfed in the slow movement of her hand. How it took her own and how she allowed the connection without any delay. The squeeze of her hand would have been more than enough to draw her in further, but the verbal request did wonders to slowly drag her out of her seat.

"What're you waiting for now?" Lucy asked, the question feeling unnecessary yet she asked it all the same.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It wasn’t that Penny didn’t want to look, and she hoped Lucy understood that. To be able to see Lucy interact with her mother was a first for the psychometrist. How could she possibly look away when it clearly had a time limit on it?

Slowly, she started to shift up, straightening her back but moving slow enough to insure Lucy followed. “You.” She stated forwardly. A short simple answer was always the easiest to provide. There wasn’t need to explain herself, because she felt so little needed to be explained about wanting to wait for her over the book in her hand.

So she moved towards Lucy’s bed, easing the ink manipulator along with her. Sliding off her shoes, she sat back and leaned against the headboard on the side farthest from the wall, settling the book on her lap before sparing a quick glance to Lucy. “Is that alright?” Although her tone lacked the concern that the question might have conveyed.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It was easy to know when she should follow; obvious indicators led Lucy back towards her bed a beat behind her counterpart. Despite knowing the answer to her own question - or at least, being relatively sure of it - it was completely different to hear it. To understand the single word she offered, because there was so much more to it than three simple letters in tandem.

But there was that daunting feeling, again. Nerves tickling at the back of her throat. She'd seen it all before. Pages and pages of faces and small details.

She let her hand go when she moved again, catching the question as she breezed passed the psychometrist towards her own side. Closest to the wall, where she belonged as she crossed her legs and leaned back. "Why wouldn't it be?" Lucy asked, catching her gaze in the moment it was provided. Already she felt the growing tension in her neck; how she wanted to look down and take in the familiar curve of her lips.

Her hand connected with the zip she wore, idly dragging on it to at least give her something to think about instead. Because she felt the smile on the other side of the page; the short hit of definition at the inked corner of her mouth - the second greatest tell she owned.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

With the book on her lap, Penny’s free hand moved to Lucy’s thigh, resting there with innocent intentions, but even so it was impossible to strip away the slight change in her pulse from the contact alone. She took a breath in an attempt to calm it, but it hardly helped.

“I was just checking.” She stated lightly, holding onto the all important eye contact another moment longer before finally looking down to the book with a flip of the page.

Her pulse shot right up again. Because there, again, was her own imagine. A barely noticeable smile, but one that Lucy always managed to see. The psychometrist felt herself waver, tension growing in her jaw as she tried to compose herself.

And even so, she couldn’t manage to look back up at Lucy, instead staring at the inked curve of her own mouth. “Is all of it--?” The last word refused to budge from behind her throat as she turned to the next page.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy immediately felt the tension shoot up her spine, causing her back to straighten as her hand settled against her thigh. Direct skin to skin contact was always a definite killer, but she did her best to think of something other than the slow burning trail her fingertips could have taken past the line of her shorts.

It went about as well as expected.

She didn't glance down when Penny did. The image was still something she could feel, from the defined lines to the detailed, necessary shading. Lucy kept her gaze steady on the Brit's face. The way her dark eyes stared. How she looked. The broken question forced the pressure in her head to rise as she immediately felt the threat of heat to her face.

"Yeah." She replied finally, finding it almost impossible to resist pointing out that she knew how strange it must have seemed. "I-"

In the same way, Lucy found herself failing. She couldn't find the means to articulate that so often, it was all she managed to think about. The rest of the air the ink manipulator carried for her explanation passed her parted lips in silence instead.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Although she was given an answer, Penny couldn’t find the means to respond herself. Had Lucy tried to continue, she might have tried to stop the Australian from explaining herself, but she cut herself off, and Penny was left just looking.

She lingered with every page, giving it definite thought of appreciation before moving to the next. But she didn’t make it far – barely ten pages in and she paused, pressing her palm flat to the blank corresponding page of another inked version of herself, feeling the impulsive memory try and breach through the contact.

But she was distracted enough to not let it fall through, busy trying to keep each breath even, but they faltered, wavering past her parted lips as she closed her eyes. Another beat – or two, maybe – before she opened them again. Her hand pressed further against Lucy’s thigh, but was impossible to stay grounded now that she felt the wetness on her cheeks.

She eased up the pressure on the book, trying to ignore her own uncontrollable response as she flipped to the next page. Without looking at Lucy, she had no idea where her gaze was.