On a Lonely Cove

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy had plans. Plans to leave the country for the holidays. Two weeks away completely with time zones stifling her brain and a lack of accustomed human contact to keep her interest. It wasn't hard to recall how this went six months ago - how sure she'd been that a fortnight was completely manageable, and that she wasn't going to struggle anywhere near as much as she had.

She recalled a year ago. That very early week where she stayed behind. How the reunions grew from a surprisingly uncontrollable kiss at the door to what it had been last time. That familiar, uncontrollable nature. Such was the initial reaction to the induced state she found herself in when she lacked her counterpart's company. How it would be this time, she didn't know. She couldn't say. Because it was going to be a right mess.

Prior plans, she had now. But at a time, they were plans.

So she wasn't leaving, but Penny was still operating under the impression that she was, and such an idea had snowballed far too far for her to reel it back in. As a result, she was keeping up a bold faced lie. The thing that made that easy was the fact that Penny was leaving first. But she was leaving now.

Driving her to the airport was surprisingly quiet. It was impossible to keep her attention focused on anything that wasn't the inevitable distance she was creating. The question burned at the back of her throat with every second she worked towards that distance; if she asked her to stay, she was almost certain she would. But changing plans on a dime for something as stupid as the Australian ink manipulator was just that - stupid. So she held her breath. She bit her tongue. She let it slide.

And she remained silent for the duration of checking in, always a step behind with a hand firmly interlocked with the Brit's every step of the way. She wasn't about to let go until she had to. Her heart wouldn't stop the insufferable, quickened beating. So forceful was it that she could feel it in her ears - hear it with every passing moment. At this stage, following was all she could manage. That and her uncharacteristic silence.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Silence never really suited Lucy Serrano. It was a well established rule of their relationship; she was the loud one. Penny could handle silence – she lived within it for so much of her life, but now more than ever it irked the psychometrist to hear so little from her counterpart.

Two weeks – that was how long the ink manipulator would be gone for; Penny’s trip added a few days to that count. She was leaving – as far as she knew – two days before her counterpart. New York bound, and never before did Penny dread returning home to her family. Holidays or not, she couldn’t imagine being away from her for any decent amount of time.

And here it was, being forced upon her. So she held on, refusing to let go through the airport. It hardly mattered who looked at the set of girls holding hands, because all that mattered was the ink manipulator she would shortly have to say goodbye to.

Leading the way never felt worse; at a certain point her steps slowed, as if missing a plane would somehow be a solution to the inevitable. That hardly mattered, for in a couple days, Lucy would be on a plane herself – almost a full day without any form of contact. It was exactly as painful as it sounded. She couldn’t handle the distance, how was she supposed to handle absolutely nothing? Again?

Her slow pace finally stalled to a complete stop when they reached security. It was impossible to bring Lucy straight to the gate with her, and the student who always showed up early for class was letting minutes pass by, threatening the idea of being late.

Letting go wasn’t an option – not until it was forced upon the psychometrist as she turned to her counterpart as she took in a wavering breath, though it wasn’t the usual kind Lucy caused. Her hand tightened, gaze casting downward with parted lips as she tried to speak, but words refused to pass after such an extended period of silence between them. Saying goodbye was impossible. It felt detrimental, and as her eyes worked their way back to the Australian’s she opted for the much more communicative option; dragging her free hand up and away from her luggage to curl around the back of Lucy’s neck and kissing her.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Security. It was the inevitable last step before Lucy was going to lose her. She offered a brief, albeit definite stare down the line, the gears in her mind turning in order to calculate just how long it might take to get through those people.

Or she could keep her. Just for a little too long. Enough to miss her flight. Then she might find the strength to ask her to stay completely. Like it could be so easy.

Lucy leaned into the contact so willingly, a small half-step in her counterpart's direction in order to rid the distance completely. Public displays of affection were rare, but this was different. Stifling the need for such contact was so clearly impossible she didn't bother trying. Her free hand tracked around the Brit's waist, settled at the small of her back to press her closer.

All the while she squeezed her hand, far too tightly than she should have. But the incoherent need made a second thought impossible.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penelope Blaise was a private individual by definition. Public displays of affection were a rarity for her to give into; It hadn’t been all that long ago that holding Lucy’s hand was a new concept, even if now it felt like second nature to reach for her.

But this was different – denying her counterpart in this moment was the most detrimental thing Penny could think to do, even then, the Brit knew she didn’t have the capacity to not make such a forward move. It didn’t matter where they were.

With the half step Lucy took, Penny met her. Her arm wrapped around the Australian’s shoulders, never daring to loosen the hold now that she had her close again. Missing a flight was becoming more and more of a sound argument.

But missing a flight to New York only to go through the process of saying goodbye again in a couple days was hardly forward thinking. Two weeks. She could do this. She’d have to.

And still, Penny didn’t draw away, even as she broke the kiss for a breath, she remained close to Lucy, eyes shut as she pressed her forehead to hers. “I don’t want to go.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

As it stood, Lucy was still unaware of the emerged pattern that had taken place. Penny left first. She had on every encounter thus far, and she returned last. It left the ink manipulator with, as it were, spare nights alone in a bed they shared. Nights where she didn't sleep. At least when she was home, there was comfort to be found in company there. In the fact that distance was something she couldn't fight.

Now, she had two weeks of single nights to look forward to. Two weeks of nights in her bed alone. In that moment, she was thankful to have the ability she did, else she might have found herself lost in every available memory to pass the time.

She closed her eyes in the new proximity, still not daring to let that hand go despite how intently she pressed herself in close. How necessary it would eventually be. Likely, the last point of contact if Penny didn't relieve it first. "I know." Lucy tried, because there was no point in denying the obvious shared sentiment. "It won't be so bad." And there, the reassuring lie. It was going to be bad. It was going to be awful.

"You know what I mean." Or rather, what she was trying to do.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

There was good reason for the Brit to leave first and come back last, although it had never been exactly planned for that reason. Originally, it had happened by chance, but the psychometrist could hardly stand the idea of having to live in her room alone without the Australian to distract her from the series of memories that lived in there. Those that would certainly hold her attention.

A selfish move, but one that she was sure her counterpart would agree with. She’d seen how bad it was on days – it didn’t take psychometry to recall memories, but it certainly could make matters significantly worse.

She continued to squeeze Lucy’s hand, the desperate hold that was slightly too tight to be anything average. Desperate. Neither would let go – that much felt certain – until there was no other choice.

“I know.” Penny replied back softly, the pressure in her jaw building as she took a forced breath. Even if it was a clear cut lie, she still tried. Fingers fumbled with the collar of Lucy’s shirt; pressing down any invisible wrinkles that might have existed; she didn’t look to see, rather the movement itself kept her free hand busy and close. “It’s only two weeks.” She continued on a short exhale.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy offered an instinctive, albeit short laugh at the repetition. Of course Penny knew what she meant. Of course she knew what the Australian was trying to do. To convey. Trying to make it easier was all she had now, and even if it didn't actively work, the thought was still there.

In spare moments, Lucy found herself enticed by the smallest things. The hand running along the material of her shirt to the pressure in her hand; all reminders of how she was. Little things she would miss more than anything else when things turned as they would.

"It could be worse." She offered, well aware that she was cycling through the obvious. The notions everyone offered to make themselves feel better. To soothe the inoperable ache. "It's not forever."

They were rational people. The idea of forever was idiotic, but it somehow shot panic up the back of her neck. Because it was a viable threat for the future, and it was stupid to even toy with the idea now of all times. Quick rationale reminded her she could scold herself later. Without a look she leaned in to kiss her counterpart again. Anything to forgive the choice of prior wording.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

This game felt almost exhausting, but Penny couldn’t bring herself to stop. It did little to numb the burning ache of distance, but it was still worth trying. So she nodded with her counterpart. It could be worse. It’s not—

Forever.

Before she could linger on the word Lucy chose to offer, she felt the ink manipulator’s lips against her own. It forced whatever potentially negative thoughts Penny could have taken out of her head before they fully had a chance to form. Her heart raced from the contact, and again she didn’t care about the public setting they were in, especially when she initiated it.

Not realizing just how tightly she held Lucy’s hand, she squeezed it, the other pressing away from Lucy’s collar to between her shoulder blades with a flattened palm. And even as she went to speak, the distance Penny offered between them was barely that. “I know you land in the middle of the night in my time, but please message me regardless.”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The thought of the obvious public setting was hardly at the forefront of Lucy's mind. She registered where they were standing for the soul purpose of the fact that it was her means to leave, but the idea that anyone might be looking didn't matter. It didn't enter her mind. It wasn't a factor. Because this was the final frontier, and if people were so inclined to stare, Lucy Serrano didn't give a right fuck.

She squeezed her hand back, like somehow the intense pressure Penny was supplying would remind her of the feeling when her hand was eventually gone. Like it could imprint the memory into her skin itself.

And as she felt such words against her lips, her eyebrows crinkled with a shot of distress. Admittedly, she liked it better when they were pretending they were alright with what was going on. Any reference to the future - a bold faced lie or not - felt exhausting. And it hurt.

"Always." She replied, vaguely as she could. As she always did. If only because indirect answers about difficult things was often her forte. "You'll still be up?"

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

As much as it pained her to speak of it, Penelope Blaise would always be the force to keep Lucy on track. To make she she did what she had to. Responsible by nature. She doubted the Australian needed the reminder, but it was comforting to hear her response regardless.

"Of course." She replied against the ink manipulator's lips, taking a moment yo kiss her again. She doubted she'd be able to sleep for the duration of their time apart, and staying awake for Lucy's flight was hardly a problem.

She couldn't create distance, but Penny was well aware she should already be in line. It was never that easy as stepping away.

The ticking minutes put a nervous beat in pulse, pounding in her throat. "And don't eat too much junk food. You know it will ruin you."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It was easy to assume that Penny wouldn't sleep. Not while she thought they wouldn't be able to have contact. The more Lucy considered the struggle ahead, the more she felt compelled to ask her to stay. She so wished she had the strength to surpass her own stubborn nature.

She leaned into the contact, breaching whatever distance barely existed as Penny kissed her again. She feared each one would somehow wind up the last before she even realised it, and that was far more daunting a belief than anything else in that moment.

And there, she couldn't help but grin. Eyes still closed as each worrying thought passed her lips. "Can't make that promise," She argued weakly, amusement lining her faded tone, "It makes it all a bit better."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

There it was. That grin. Even with her eyes closed, the Brit could feel it on her lips. It drew a breath from her lungs, short and sharp against her counterpart's skin. At least she wasn't denying it.

Worrying over the little things somehow put less pressure on the larger, more prominent issue.

"But not too much, okay?" How could she deny Lucy when she gave such a reason? "No energy drinks, though." Even if she was aware that Lucy still had them when they weren't apart, she could still try. The last thing she needed was caffeine to help her through inevitable sleepless nights.

Again, she kissed Lucy, the hold of her hand still tight, but it couldn't prevent the way it trembled.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

It was so like her counterpart to worry. Even from a distance, it was clear how intently Penny searched for the ink manipulator's best interests. Such bad habits slowly faded over time, and as it stood they were the easiest to achieve when in a negative head space. More so without someone to keep precise eyes on her. At least she was allowing the comfort of copious amounts of sugar and overly processed food.

Her nose crinkled at the lack of energy drinks. It was the type of banter she'd surely miss. The kind she'd undoubtedly still hear over the phone in the days to come. "I won't need them." She replied. As if she needed help keeping up at night.

Another kiss; one Lucy took with evident necessity. Desperation. Because minutes mounted to something far greater. As the remaining time dwindled, she felt her threatening to slip away. So when she broke away, Lucy raised the hand that held her own. She pressed her lips against it, a definite drop in her sight line to allow her hair to veil her expression at every turn.

She pressed lips against her skin again, and on the third time she lingered for as long as she possibly could.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Although Penny herself knew that Lucy wouldn't need any excess caffeine, to hear it from her counterpart was like a kick to her stomach. How was she supposed to leave now? Each passing moment only made it harder to handle the next. Two weeks almost did feel like forever. As rational as they both were, it almost seemed strange to dread this as much as they did. Still, Penny couldn't help but to miss Lucy already, and she wasn't even gone yet.

The draw of her hand came willingly, and dark eyes moved to the hint of ink she could catch sight of on her finger. Second from the left. What would it be like without her counterpart to move it?

Closing her eyes, Penny took in a slow breath to try and maintain her composure. Holding it, she could feel the pressure in her chest rise.

"I--" should go. Her lips pressed together, unable to manage the rest of her sentence or even gather the strength to pull her hand from Lucy's lips.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy thought to glance at the nearby tattoo her counterpart wore. She could still feel the draw it provided; how she was sure it wanted to shift forms in that exact moment. Penny's protective nature radiated through completely, even without a word past her mouth.

With a small tilt of her head, parted lips grazed the words along the Brit's finger. She pressed her palm against her back more intently as she offered the single word. Where it would take them was obvious, and more than anything she wanted to fight it.

"Should I-" She started, forcing a break as she glanced up finally, "Do you want me to move it?"