Losing Your Words

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Takes place hours after Pusher Love Girl

What was already a long day had only dragged the moment Penny and her counterpart had stepped out of the guest bedroom. Downstairs, they found themselves in the process of making belated introductions. The proper kind. Despite how relaxed her family tried to come off of, tensions were still high - especially over dinner. Inevitable topics came up, but they had somehow survived through it.

They seemed shocked. Perhaps shocked wasn't a strong enough word. In any given moment, Penny's hands found their way onto the ink manipulator in some way. Whether it be a palm resting at the small of Lucy's back as they stood side by side, or when she found a way to intertwine their fingers, each member of the Blaise family looked startled by the behavior of the youngest sibling. Or possibly the fact that Lucy Serrano actually existed.

Everyone, however, averted their gaze when her palm found its way to Lucy's leg, palm pressed at the line of her skirt.

Somehow, the subject of separate rooms had managed to be avoided entirely, which was likely best for everyone as Penny saw it. Because as the late summer sun finally set and they went their separate ways, it was easier to let her family assume where she'd be for the evening, even if they were wrong. Even when Lucy herself was mistaken, too.

Not even a kiss as the Australian returned to the room that was designated for her, and the Brit found a shot of annoyance in the fact. However, it didn't stop the quiet steps she took down the hallway towards her room. Pausing briefly, the psychometrist thought to knock, but doing so would draw more attention than she wished, and instead she held her breath, trying for the door in hopes it was unlocked.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Parents were daunting. Having dinner with parents? Even more daunting. When Lucy first got in the car to make the six hour drive to New York, parents had been absent from her mind completely, and it wasn't long before she cursed herself for the lack of consideration. Still, she wore confidence well. She fielded questions to the best of her ability, awkward and uncomfortable as they might have been.

She hardly expected to be present when her love's inked lettering was brought into question, but that was simply how it was. And any threat of a personal attack radiated through the blue tiger on her upper arm, despite how hard she tried to control it.

She barely caught Penny before she disappeared behind a closed door. The room she was in felt so empty compared to the last and first time she'd been there. Imprinted on the perfectly made bed was the space where she'd pressed her against the mattress. Teeth sunk into her lower lip at the thought alone, if only because she had forced herself to wait with little known patience.

With a heavy breath, she hauled the singular bag she'd brought with her onto the bed itself. Irksome hands dragged it open, searching for something to sleep in. In the rush, she hadn't thought about it at all. It wasn't as if she slept in much as it was, anyway.

Straightening her back instinctively, she turned her attention to the door the second it cracked open. Instantly, her dark eyes went wide, eyebrows shooting up at the sight of the person who clearly wasn't supposed to be here.

She took a breath. Slow. Inward.

"What the fuck." Lucy offered, her voice low to something of a whisper.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Considering her counterpart's nickname, Penny thought herself lucky to find the door unlocked. Her palm pressed to the knob, trying to ignore the shake of it. Or the memory attached to it of her counterpart entering the room. Alone. However, such strong emotion wasn't easily ignored. It was only a moment - as long as she had held onto the doorknob herself. Still, it was more than enough time to feel the dread of going into an empty room.

Sucking in a breath, she twisted the handle, cracking it open slowly to insure the creaking of hinges was at a bare minimum. Quickly, her gaze caught Lucy's surprised one, and the breath she had only just took slipped through her lungs upon seeing her. The corners of her mouth pulled upward. Lucy was rarely surprised, and seeing her as such was admittedly great.

Penny's reaction was quick to falter as her counterpart spoke. Eyebrows lowered, furrowing together with the crinkle of her nose as she closed the door behind her, insuring that it was locked this time around with a definite click.

"Shut up." Penny stressed the importance of quiet between them, at least on some level, but her own voice couldn't have been much lower than the whisper her counterpart had offered. Taking steps across the room, she immediately wished to reach for Lucy, but she forced a stop only a couple of feet away. "Do you really think I'd let you stay in here alone tonight?"

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The most Lucy had done was find a shirt. As her attention was flagged, she'd managed to draw it out of her bag, but now it was so stagnant, curled into her fingertips to ensure she couldn't lose it. Penny's first words in that moment were the perfect echo to the sentiment Lucy offered. With her jaw still dropped, she wasn't sure how to press her lips back together again. She wasn't sure she could speak again, even if she was allowed to.

Her heart rate elevated uncontrollably at the sound of a locked door, much less the steps Penny was taking towards her. Until they stopped, and Lucy was sure her heart itself had stopped with her. She froze there, feeling the burn of a sudden interrogation. Hands balled into the material she held onto just for something to focus on.

After the pause, Lucy shrugged. It was the only response she could give, especially after being told to shut her mouth so harshly. It was enough of moment for her to play alone, but in the break she ran her tongue across the line of her lips slowly. Try as she might, she couldn't shake disbelief from her expression.

"I dunno." She replied just as honestly. But sure enough, that was a question she'd already answered by the way she didn't believe her counterpart earlier.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Stopping short was more painful than Penny let her expression let on, but dark eyes gave way to a shot of desperation as she squeezed her own hands together tightly. Lips pressed together tightly with a mixture of mild annoyance and lack of self control. Her hands were caught up in a shirt, and as she broke her gaze to catch sight of it, her eyebrows slowly rose.

Did she need to point out that she wouldn't be putting it on? The thought put a tint of color in her cheeks, but she did her best to ignore it despite knowing how easily an ink manipulator could catch onto any shift in shade.

Eyes flicked back upward, but were slow to make it to the Australian's eyes. Caught first on the shrug of Lucy's shoulders, and then entirely hung up on the way her tongue crossed the line of her lip. Her own parted as she inhaled slowly before meeting Lucy's gaze.

She thought she could wait. Only moments longer before she could properly reach out and touch the ink manipulator. If anything, the memory that flashed with a simple touch of a door proved that she should have, but her feet moved to their own accord, stepping closer.

"I know what I said." Penny pointed out, voice still dropped as she reached out. Fingers curled lightly around one of Lucy's wrists, the other reaching for the shirt she held, easing it out of her grasp.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Contact was pressing. The locked door only made it worse. The temptation to give in was so incredibly easy, and those words filtered through her mind with a sense of second thoughts. Lucy kept her gaze as firmly planted in those familiar dark eyes as she could. A slow breath inward and she couldn't forget how daunting she thought her first night here would feel. She knew she wouldn't sleep - she was sure of it - but she never connected that it would be because of her.

But it wasn't easy. Dating or loving a psychometrist never was.

"I remember what I said." Lucy retorted boldly. Of course, it was impossible to forget the severity of the conversation between them. Memories lingered on every available article of clothing as if woven into the fabric itself. Even something as mundane as what she planned to sleep in could catch fire at any moment. So she worked as daringly as she could and she pulled it out of reach, dropping it back into her bag before fingers curled the strap of it. She pulled herself out of reach with a step to the side, hauling it off the bed and heavily onto the floor.

"Let me."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Patience wore the psychometrist thin. Little often stood in the way of what Penny wanted, and the times where it had, her attitude was less than positive. Today had proven that, if anything. Although the day had turned out better than she could have ever possibly expected when she had woken up that morning, she missed Lucy. Trembling hands could have surely suppressed the memories within her clothing as she removed it, couldn't they?

The answer hid within her counterpart's reaction. Barely having a grasp on the material herself, it was easily taken away with a shift of Lucy's hand. Lips pursed, but only briefly as it was placed within a bag.

But Lucy stepped away with a brave response, and the smile Penny had worn only moments ago immediately dragged downward at the new distance placed between them. Again, her palms pressed together as she have a reluctant nod to the simple phrase that packed so much history within its delivery. How could she deny that?

"Okay." She breathed, her gaze still fixed on the ink manipulator. By then, she couldn't find the effort to pretend she didn't stare.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

[Lucy could immediately tell that the small way she had moved aside had upset her counterpart. Of course, she expected a look like that from her. Despite the sense Lucy had already made in the prior conversation circulating the very same topic, that was of a mind unaffected by human emotion. Cleverness tied to the concept of waiting, but when it came to the ink manipulator, Penelope Blaise so rarely had to wait. She was so rarely out of reach, and now Lucy was forcing distance. So it made sense that she would struggle with the concept; it was exactly why she offered the two words in the first place.

Because she would let her. It was the only way.

Lucy dropped her gaze to Penny's hands very briefly. She could practically feel the tension that radiated through her muscles, but all that really mattered was the adoring set of eyes that couldn't tear away from her.

She remembered once, the Brit had filled the air between them with the idea that undressing in front of someone was weird. She found it more daunting than anything else. Somehow it managed to kick her heart beat into her throat, and she hadn't even started. And instead of looking away, Lucy stared back at her, watching the trajectory of her eyes before she lost the chance with material pulled up over her head. Slow as her movements might have seemed, she was quick enough to drop it with the rest of the clothes she'd brought; out of reach and therefore, out of mind completely.

Hands to the hemline of the skirt she wore, and Lucy stalled for a spare moment as she took a breath. Because as she dragged the fabric down an inch, she knew a parallel set of twin wings would grab her attention immediately. There was nothing she could do to keep them stagnant, or covered, and so she turned her attention away with the inevitable connection.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

They were only feet apart. With a few steps, Penny could have cut through the distance; it wouldn't have been hard. Hands easily could find the line of Lucy's form and helped remove every memory saturated peice of clothing her counterpart wore. Instead, the psychometist kept her feet planted firmly where she stood, even if it was painful to just watch.

Her jaw remained tense, air trapped in her lungs as Lucy grabbed the hem of her shirt. Catching it within her peripheral vision, dark eyes still remained locked on hers. Hard as it was to stare, she couldn't look away, either. At least, until she lost Lucy's eyes as she pulled her shirt up and over her head. Penny's own gaze flicked downward, sucking in a sharp breath at the form she hadn't properly seen in days.

Still, she remained silent, already forgotten about the shirt before it hit the ground. She was far too focused on the inked lettering at Lucy's ribs, then across to the first hints of the tattoo that wrapped around to her back.

But there was a tattoo - or really a set of them - that quickly drew Penny's attention. Wings that beat a little too erratically. Her hands tightened on themselves as fingertips twitched with the need to reach out.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Silence was completely deafening. As Lucy stood so close, yet so far from her counterpart, she knew the tension was practically tangible, and that tension only radiated further through the air. Try as she might, she simply couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing could fill the bridge between them as perfectly as physical contact could. And would. Just not yet.

The material of her skirt brushed the commemorative, jetting tattoo at her thigh; more ink that Penny had missed for weeks. Lucy was acutely aware that each morsel she gave only made that break between them worse, and there was so little she could do about that.

She took one, very minor step towards Penny, the single action moving her out of the way of her clothes.

A single hand behind her back and she freed the clasp between her shoulder-blades, detangling her arms from the straps before she let it fall with the rest of her clothes. There, as Lucy looked towards her again, she thought to ask why Penny hadn't just told her she was planning on crashing the room. Surely the ink manipulator could have found the means to rush conversations a little better with the idea in the back of her mind. But now was hardly the time to question her, especially when it could so easily come across as an argumentative catalyst. Thumbs hooked beneath the band at her hips, and again, she had to pause. Because even she was staring.

"You look beautiful, love." She offered, redeeming the reciprocation she couldn't quite meet before they left this room the first time. The stress of her tone wasn't something she could help, because desperation crept into everything she said and did, and those words were no exception.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Remaining at an acceptable distance grew harder with every breath Penny took. Her hands ached from the way she couldn't reach out to her counterpart. With a clenched jaw and dropped gaze, she had missed how she looked back at her. Attention was caught up in every missed set of ink she could focus on. From wings to a rocket, and over to the set of roses that bordered a king on her opposite leg.

She paused with her last garment, and Penny struggled to take a breath. It was only when Lucy cut through the silence did she manage to shift the air in her lungs. Her eyes flicked upward, colliding with a dark, but incredibly bright set. Heat ran to her face with a burst of color. The stress of Lucy's tone matched the kind Penny wore in her features.

It was at that time she realized that she could have been helpful herself. Caught staring - and she wasn't about to deny that she was - Lucy was almost completely finished undressing, while she herself remained fully clothed. She very suddenly felt foolish for not making a move on herself - waiting was a waste of time.

But looking wasn't, she reasoned. It was why she struggled to move in the first place. Her hands loosened their grip on themselves, giving way to the tremble that shook her fingertips as she exhaled. Any other response for her counterpart would be one that she wouldn't readily accept, and so she remained silent as she instead twisted her wrist to reach towards the zip at her back.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy had no idea the words she'd offer would cause so much tension. First to the forefront of her mind, the ink manipulator simply went with the thought itself. Because the point of it needed to be clear - as if it wasn't already given the very fact that she was standing there - and filling the air of silence with something pertinent seemed like the best way to approach it. Giving as much as possible was hardly a foreign concept.

Stalling again wasn't so hard when she realised the psychometrist was finally following suit. The thought to ask for such a thing had never crossed her mind, and now that it was in motion she had to will herself not to stare through the whole process. She was suddenly a lot quicker to move, never willing to stall again as she stepped out of the last barrier she had. Then, there was no reason to stay away. Finally free, and that distance proved to be hers to breach. Lucy took that step in the direction of her love, and with it eradicated the need to keep her hands to herself.

Hands pressed to her shoulders briefly, fingers curling into the material of the dress she wore. A slight pull to one side and she leaned in, brushing her lips against her now-exposed shoulder lightly.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Years of experience came with unzipping a dress on her own; her fingers clasped the zip between her shoulder blades with ease, but as she eased it down, the psychometrist fumbled as she stepped closer. Her pulse beat hard in her ears, almost overpowering the sharp breath she took as she finally reached out.

Penny couldn't be more grateful for the familiar hands that shifted her dress, nor the lips that found their way to the curve of her shoulder. Dark eyes fluttered shut as her free hand found its way to Lucy's side, fingers tracing across ink she hadn't felt in weeks.

Somehow, she managed to pull the zip the rest of the way down, loosening her dress enough for it to start to slip off her form, starting to hang up on her arms rather than fall entirely. Because the need to reach out to Lucy was paramount. Her free hand found its way to the ink manipulator, tracing up the length of her arm to her shoulder. Palm pressing flat against her, Penny brought Lucy in closer, lips pressing against her ear with a wavering breath.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

For all the evident tension, the smallest of connections worked wonders to ease it away. At least, such was the case for Lucy. The lightest brush of her lips against her skin and she found the means to find confidence in her decision. Little reactions reminded her how delicate a process it was to keep a psychometrist in the present when almost everything in the world threatened to take that away just by existing there.

And of course, anything she wanted, she was bound to get. Lucy couldn't help the way she leaned in as she was silently asked to do so, nor could she ignore the nature of her breathing as it shook against her ear so importantly.

Lucy wouldn't dare ask her to let go, but her hands worked to slowly ease the material as far as it could go instead, a silent request to momentarily adhere to the importance of a split severed connection. With an equally slow move, she dragged parted lips along the line of her neck slowly, choosing the prefect point of her pulse to press against lightly.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Now that she had found that connection, Penny wasn't sure if she could bring herself to let go of it. A familiar touch worked the tension from her muscles, melting it away like the layer of material that slowly slid down her arms. How she worked to silently remind her that she had to create distance - if only a sliver of it - to rid themselves of the barrier that remained between them.

Her hands were slow to move, but they did regardless, allowing her dress to drop to the floor. But before she could allow another connection that she would inevitably have to sever again, she twisted her arm around her back, finding the clasp with ease. Straps slid off her shoulders, joining the pile of clothes collecting on the floor. A mess she wasn't concerned with dealing with until morning came.

Because lips pressed against her neck, certainly able to feel the pounding of her pulse as it drummed heavily against her. Penny sucked in a sharp breath, eyes squeezing shut as she placed light pressure to Lucy's shoulder as her palm pressed to it, stepping out of the pool of fabric at her feet. A single step before her free hand found the band at her waist, thumb tucking under the material to drag it downward.