On a Cold Night

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

After: Heaven Sent

With the rush of the holidays came the equal rush of the weather. Cold nights had never been the Australian's forte; no matter how many years she found herself living in Vermont, she could never get completely used to the way snow pillaged the natural heat from just about everything. But on some level, she had to love the weather she looked on so negatively. The greatest of things seemed to coincide with the cooler months.

A year ago she was proposed to on a whim in a crowded airport. The year before that, she carried her first real conversation with the psychometrist. And now - in the wake of the first opportune moment - she had married her.

Cold nights exhausted muscles quicker. They kept her up in instances where she couldn't continue to evade the need for necessary rest. There was no way to get closer. There was no distance to breach. Half a bed was completely devoid; her own side always left empty, just as she had promised she would. She stared at the British girl half-wrapped in a set of muted blue sheets they had always shared - that they would always share - and there was nothing but residual clarity.

Without her, everything felt incredibly muddled; the kind of confusion must have been natural for something like this. A few minutes, a few papers, a few signatures and that was it. The very foundation of a future made, like it could ever be so simple. Like it wouldn't force a change or drag a difference because there wasn't a series of vows or a set of white dresses. Clinical and cut, not because it was easier, but because none of that had ever suited them.

She thought of the difference. In the silence of the late night where she seemed alone without remotely feeling lonely, she wondered if she'd have felt more fragile if she took the time. If she had waited for the company of her parents, who had always wanted to be privy to such a life altering event. She could have married her six months ago when they were here for graduation and she wouldn't have minded. She would have married her the day after she asked, if the idea had ever seen the light of day. She wondered if she was supposed to feel anxious the second she could switch the ring on her finger for something much simpler. Or perhaps it never would. Lucy mightn't ever grow scared of the ultimate form of commitment like she always had been.

Because there was her. And so there was clarity.

And there - with her - she couldn't feel cold enough to get up and search for something to cover herself. Not even as the slightest drop forced the exposed nature of her skin to naturally rise to the threat of a shiver. She didn't want to move in the slightest. At least, not in an involuntary sense, and not in a way that might remotely disturb how things were. She could never find the end of a mental cycle if she was looking.

But the crack of her own smile worked in tandem with the quietest laugh on a short enough exhale. Lucy had never been one to hold her expression in a steely sense unless it was so necessary, and even then she was so adept at being useless.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny hadn't the slightest idea what time it was when she eventually gave into sleep. Unlike her counterpart who easily stayed up as hours passed into the night, Penny struggled with consciousness after such an exhausting day, even if it were tiring in the best of ways. Papers were signed, her name was changed. She was married. Were it possible, she wouldn't have slipped into slumber at all, but it was so like her to exhaust the Brit, just as she loved her to.

So she was oblivious to the thoughts that ran through her counterpart's head. How she was kept up, but managed to maintain so still as to not disturb the light sleeper. Yet when a little laugh - no matter how quiet - passed her counterpart's lips, was enough to stir her. The first sign of a less than sleeping state was the crinkle of her nose, but she offered very little movement otherwise for the first few moments.

Gears were slow to turn, as she eventually rolled her shoulders back in response to the cool air against her skin. Though unlike her counterpart, it was more of a pleasant feeling to welcome her skin, but nothing compared to the warmth that came from the form next to her. While her breath stepped away from its even rhythm, she still kept her eyes closed.

Because there was comfort found in the way there was still that familiar form was so close. It put a gentle smile against her lips, head turning into her counterpart's shoulder. Her wife's shoulder. Even while half awake, she was quickly reminded of the fact, as if it could be so easy to forget, psychometry or not.

"What is so funny?" Penny asked, grogginess taking over her tone as the tip of her nose brushed up the length of her neck and to her cheek in a drawn out motion.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy already knew what that miniscule sound had started. She knew without fail that the slightest shift could wake her counterpart. Given the overwhelming nature of their relationship now, she was half surprised the psychometrist had managed to sleep in the first place.

But she had. And Lucy hadn't minded. When her counterpart had been awake it was impossible to look at her without falling to old patterns. Now that she was conscious enough to move, Lucy was reminded of her prior difficulty. Smallest touches gave way to absolutely greater feelings. Penny was only ever attentive with precision; everything had reason, even if that reason was simply how bad she wanted to give affection.

Those words hit the air in such a tired way. The ink manipulator couldn't help the smile she wore, nor could she dismantle the lighter notions of it. She was notorious for a knowing grin when something was funny. She was notorious for it in just about every instance available. But here - in the solitude of their own creation - she couldn't look so humoured. She wanted to be so genuine.

Fingertips were slow to track the length of her back. Now that she could move, she was going to use the privilege.

"Nothing," She replied lightly. Gently, despite how she wasn't known for the quieter tone, "I'm not laughing at you."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

It had taken a few moments for Penny to actually register what had woken her up, but as light as Lucy's laugh was, she could recognize it all the same. Though she questioned the nature of it, Penny still smiled through her tiredness, lips brushing against the Australian's cheek gently, having yet to offer any sign of defined pressure. Rather, she enjoyed the simple closeness that she originally found enough comfort in to fall asleep.

With the familiar finger of fingertips tracing up the length of her back, her spine arched toward's the contact. Toes curled beneath the sheets as she stretched, though nowhere near her usual routine. It never took much to wake her up, and now that she was, she already felt the intoxicating nature of her counterpart - how was she possibly supposed to go back to sleep?

Still, her movements felt sluggish at first, even as she pressed her lips lightly to the corner of Lucy's mouth. She could literally feel the genuine smile that she was wearing, and how it forced her own to take on an upwards curve.

Lucy laughed at so many things; humor was part of her nature, but Penny never knew the Australian to laugh without reason, and as such, she called her out lazily. "You laughed at something."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Without a look to catch, Lucy had the absolute freedom to stare. She could allow her eyes to follow the contours of her expression without the fear of being too overwhelming. Smallest stints of contact radiated the warmth of the hold she had no intention of easing herself out of. She liked how it was to have her legs intertwined, like proof of the desire to settle in for hours on end.

Likewise, she kept the contact against her back so light. It was barely the threat of pressure, yet it existed all the same, skimming the surface even when the most perfect reaction was given. The curve in her spine forced her body just that little bit closer. Not that further closeness was even an option, here. Eyes closed to the shorter quality of lips pressed to the corner of her mouth. But she felt the way hers had twitched with such a natural reaction. In her more tired state, things had always been slightly elevated. She always seemed to want more. She chalked it up to that, not the pressure of the day that illuminated the entirety of her mind for hours on end.

Being caught laughing wasn't unfamiliar. It was true; Lucy had a tendency to laugh for a variety of reasons at just about anything. Her stint of humour was a broad spectrum, and it was the knee-jerk reaction to a majority of things in life. She could even laugh in the midst of an argument if the pressure built too high. If she needed such a break.

"Not at you." Lucy reassured her, despite how the need to be reassuring hadn't been overly flagged in her system.

But Lucy knew that wasn't enough of an answer. She knew that despite the exhausted state of her wife, something so easy just wouldn't suffice. If she didn't give in now, she would persist for as long as she had to until she got an answer. With a slight tilt of her head, she brushed the tip of her nose against hers, doing her best to maintain an even level to her breath at the magnitude of something so seemingly minor. "It's about me."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Tiredness always put a quick drop to Penny's guard; although the Brit was always precise with almost everything she did, in the quieter moments of the night she strived for simple affection. Closeness that only she could obtain from the manipulator. The chilling temperature might not have bothered her, but she still drew herself in to the warm form next to her because she could. Her counterpart - her wife - was the only existence she could concern herself with. Not school, nor chores. Just her.

And she was perfect.

Penny within the contact she had breached, shifting only enough to tighten her legs around those that were tangled between her own. Nothing told her that the Australian had any intention of getting up or moving away, but she still made it clear she had little intent of letting go at all as an informative answer hit the air.

She hadn't the time to call Lucy out and point out that she didn't answer her question, for the ink manipulator offered more of an explanation. Her eyebrows quirked upward though; perhaps it was the tiredness, but she still didn't get it. "Why?"

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The smallest of movements were enough to catch Lucy's complete attention. Subtle light gave little illumination to a person's face, but she could see the lack of eyes adorning her own form without fail. Brighter notions from the moon still managed to light the way she smiled in her tired state. Lucy could almost feel bad for waking her up were it not for the fact that she was happy to have her conscious.

Legs kept her own wrapped. She wasn't planning on going anywhere, and neither should she. The smallest raise of her eyebrows expressed the question she then chose to voice, and Lucy watched for a spare moment. She wrapped herself in the entirety of the moment. The smallest brush of her fingertips refused to settle. Refused to stop. Rather, the second she reached her waist she hooked her fingers around the sheet as it had pooled. A small amount of pressure and she was dragging it up. Just a little. Just enough to provide a little more comfort.

She closed her eyes, then. Perhaps it was easier that way.

"I can't sleep. I don't reckon I could if I tried." Lucy admitted, but she knew what wasn't enough. She would only be met with a question from a curious, albeit exhausted mind. "I don't want to miss anything."

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Though she wasn't chilled, Penny still could find the means to appreciate the small shift of the blankets. It made everything that little bit more comfortable - more cozy in the confinements of a bed she never wanted to leave as long as she was there. It made her hold on just that little bit tighter. Because although tired eyes refused to open just yet, she could very well feel the Australian's presence, and she wanted her to know how cherished it was.

Sometimes it took a little pushing to understand what Lucy was trying to communicate, but there it was, finally. The admission carried its own sweetened message despite the possible negative impact of insomnia she knew Lucy could suffer. Finally, Penny worked to make a definite movement of her own. While she hardly wanted the gentle contact of fingertips against her back to stop, she still managed to push herself upward, if only slightly as she opened her eyes to catch a glimpse through the moonlight to her.

Like clockwork, the simple nature of her breathing came to a halt the moment her gaze landed on the Australian. Even in the dark with the smallest amount of light available, she was still beautiful. And she was her wife.

"That's a long time to stay awake." Penny pointed out with a drop of her voice. The tip of her nose brushed against Lucy's gently. "The rest of our lives."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

When more defined movements started working at her side, Lucy eased her hand back a touch. Though she would never completely sever that contact, she had little way of knowing just how far she was determined to move. Her eyes shot open to catch any kind of reference, staring at the set of eyes she could finally catch. It was a strange feeling to miss something she knew so well so intently after just a handful of hours.

Lucy was sure then that as she spoke she was offering a stint of humour. Truth be told, the idea was as ridiculous as it sounded. Side by side to her counterpart, she allowed her hand to shift over her shoulder, past the curve of her neck before fingers tracked their way through her hair lightly. "When I close my eyes I can't stop thinking, but it's nothing bad." She added then, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards to the thread of a knowing smile.

"I'm still trying to get my head around it." It. That was hardly the word post people would use to define their own marriage, but it was the best the ink manipulator could offer in that moment.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Catching Lucy's gaze immediately made the Brit wonder why it had taken so long to open her eyes, and how she managed to fall asleep at all in the first place with such an overwhelming individual by her side. It certainly wasn't a decision she made by choice, because as wonderful as Lucy was, she was also incredibly exhausting in the best of ways.

The fingertips that crossed through the line of her hair then answered her own internal question, for such a simple movement packed the moment with comfort. Her guard so easily dropped when in the presence of her counterpart. There was no need to be on edge when knowing arms wrapped around her form, and when even the most gentle of contact felt protective.

She wasn't bothered by the little word used to describe their marriage, because it still held the same weight. For the longest of times, she could only describe her relationship with the Australian as this. Vague as it was, it was fitting, as was the way Lucy chose her words. The corner of Penny's mouth twitched before she leaned forward and kissed Lucy lightly. "It's huge." She agreed in time.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Now that she had her eyes, Lucy was determined not to lose them. Her fingers had shifted through the familiar locks of her hair to ensure no strands would fall out of place. The palm of her hand inevitably settled against her cheek, her thumb instinctively working to brush across her cheekbone lightly. Smaller points of contact were suddenly the most heavy; she wasn't sure how to stop and let her settle now that she was deemed allowed to reach out.

As her lips pressed lightly against her own, Lucy immediately felt the way she tried to follow. The distance was small - enough to be able to catch her eyes - and the thought that one kiss was enough was so wrong it was almost distracting. But she could listen, too.

"Huge doesn't even cover it." She denounced, though she did her best to do so lightly. Now wasn't the time to threaten an argument with Penny. Even if it had come to that, she knew she would likely give in in an instant. The psychometrist could do no wrong, today, and she could do nothing to bring about a change to Lucy's state of mind.

Nothing could be the same, yet it felt so incredibly similar. The constant confusion was enough to make anyone's head spin, but Lucy wasn't willing to take it in a negative way. Nothing about it could ever be so. "This is everything to me." She admitted then, conviction lining the lower notions of her tone.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Penny was actively known for never giving a moment the verbal weight it deserved, and often, Lucy found a way to accept that fact. Tonight, however, was different, and though she was arguing, it put a twitch of a smile against her lips. She wanted to kiss her again, but she was still going on, as if Penny genuinely didn't know what a signed marriage certificate meant to the Australian. Still, the stress Lucy put into the statement was more than enough to make her head spin, even in the middle of the night.

Though an overwhelming Lucy Serrano-Blaise was exactly that: overwhelming. She could flood a moment with intensity in a mere matter of seconds, and the psychometrist could tell the beginnings of a ramble when she saw one. So she kissed her again, although still gently. A mere brush of her lips. "I know." She offered lightly, allowing the tip of her nose to bump against that of her counterpart's.

Even while in her affectionately tired state, she had no way to handle the ink manipulator. Penny could barely work through her own thoughts on the matter. A couple of signatures and they were suddenly married. Everything was different now - or it was supposed to be. Yet the sun still set, and now they were here. It was normal, but normal still forced her heart rate to elevate. It still made the midnight air thin and hard to breathe.

"I know." She repeated against Lucy's lips.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy felt herself eased by the way Penny tried to settle everything. How those little words worked in tandem with the way she was kissed to melt the potential way in which the ink manipulator could be so overwhelming. She loved the psychometrist she had gone so far as to marry, and she wanted that to be as known as it possibly could be. Always striving for some greater way to show appreciation meant she could collaborate whatever stream of words she deemed necessary.

Parted lips were practically threatening to call her her wife, because that was who she was. Fresh enough, of course, but she had yet to manage the word at all. And then lips barely brushed her own to remind her of quick reciprocation and understanding. Only then did it feel like she was remotely close to figuring out why.

"Sorry, it's-" Lucy started, exhaling the air in her lungs with the very thought of the sentence alone, "I'm being like, too much."

And she closed her eyes instinctively, refusing to let a glimmer of self-consciousness see the light of such a moment. The last thing she wanted to do in a situation so overwhelming was ruin everything by talking too much.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy was the most overwhelming person Penny knew, even from the start before any of this unfolded. Before she even believed she could love the Australian, let alone marry her. In any of those moments, Penny knew she struggled to handle it in any appropriate way. Anything from telling her counterpart to shut up to distracting her in the clearest way she knew how. Through it all, she never expected to hear that Lucy was sorry for any of it.

Penny eased herself back, creating enough distance to try and catch those dark eyes once again while confusion filled her own. They were wide with surprise. Concern. Especially when she couldn't catch her gaze.

"No, no." Penny stressed, even going as far as shaking her head through the response. "I mean - yes, you are." Her eyebrows furrowed as she faltered through her response entirely. Seeing Lucy in a self conscious state was a rarity, as was it was to hear an apology fall past her lips, even if it was more of a common occurrence as of late. "I might not know how to handle it, but I love it."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Though not one to run away in the traditional sense, keeping her eyes closed was Lucy's way of avoiding pressure. She didn't know what kind of look she might face as she opened her eyes, so she kept them secure despite the sound of obvious movement. Every emotional discourse that could have possibly crossed her expression would have had an after effect on the ink manipulator, and she knew that. Likely, they were both overly aware of it.

The smallest sliver of a breath in the form of a laugh passed her lips again, though this time it was riddled with a different stream of disbelief. It was rare to ever have Penny advocating for her overwhelming nature. It was almost like she wanted more, despite how she knew she couldn't really handle it.

"I don't wanna see you crying." She said finally, still refusing to make eye contact available despite how she wanted it, too. It was a known enough fact that tears were the natural response to something too overbearing and overwhelming. Though it was a positive natured reaction, it still wasn't ideal.