Post by Penelope Blaise on Feb 25, 2016 19:24:39 GMT -6
Mornings were often busy for Penelope Blaise. Even those that were weekends, the Brit struggled to stay put. Movement felt necessary. There was a need to keep busy - to stay productive even on days that were designated for relaxing. This particular Sunday morning was no exception, except for entirely different reasons.
She didn't want to leave the comforts of her bed. Or rather, their bed. There was an individual that kept close. She had little desire to pull away, but even through the comforts that came with Lucy Serrano at her side, anxiety plagued her mind.
So she dragged herself away. Slowly. Quietly. Enough to insure that she wouldn't disturb the woman she detangled herself from. To the kitchen where she started her daily routine. A kettle started for morning tea. Her own kettle in her home.
It was surreal. Irksome as she sat at the kitchen bench, waiting for water to boil. When it started to, her hand gripped the handle, pouring the hot liquid into a teacup brought from her own home - and that's when she felt it.
It all felt so real.
Penny pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to keep a sharp breath quiet so early in the morning.
Post by Lucy Serrano on Feb 25, 2016 20:04:21 GMT -6
It was inevitable that Lucy would wake up. Without a second body in bed, a comforting temperature in cooler months could never really be found. She might have been slow to wake from slumber, but it still happened. And she was alone. It was a little jarring, though not completely out of the norm; Lucy only woke early when it was work related, and there was nothing of the sort to pull her up early.
She worked to get up all the same, catching the last shirt she wore from its position on the floor in order to at least partially cover herself. Though why she bothered was beyond the ink manipulator the second she started taking steps out of her room.
She caught sight of the woman she shared her bed with almost immediately. Because she knew exactly where to find her. The second she was in view, Lucy felt herself stall momentarily. A bare second and the drag of her foot before she continued on with the desire of simply being closer.
"Hey," Lucy offered lightly, intent to make some contact the second she got close enough.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Feb 26, 2016 6:47:13 GMT -6
Penny hadn't caught the sound of footsteps drawing closer to the kitchen. It wasn't until that familiar accent called out to her that she became aware of the second presence within the room. Her shoulders rose up suddenly as she took in a quick breath eyes widening as she looked quickly to Lucy, and then even more quickly away. Towards her tea, but more importantly, with her face out of sight of the woman until she could take a more controlled breath.
"Good morning." Penny tried, but her voice sounded more strained than she wished.
Finally, she turned back to look at the Australian, and she was already closer than she had been mere seconds ago. It dragged a short, useless breath from her lungs and despite the overflow of emotions that were running through her tired mind, she still found the means to smile through the water that lined her eyes.
Post by Lucy Serrano on Feb 26, 2016 15:01:43 GMT -6
It was an incredibly strange first interaction. Normally, she couldn't wait to see Lucy of a morning. Normally she could barely contain the way she stared at the ink manipulator who made herself known. To lose those gorgeous eyes was worth worrying about, even if her own mind was a little slower to catch up. She still stepped towards her and crossed the distance as Penny spoke to her. Even her voice sounded borderline unhappy. It was cause for concern, of course.
The second she was close enough, she caught the fact that she was crying. It was built in tandem with an almost sad smile, or perhaps it was only made so by the juxtaposition. Raising both hands, she pressed them to either side of her face instinctively, drawing herself in enough to be as close as she could be.
"Hey." She said again, though this time it was riddled with concern.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Feb 27, 2016 7:42:09 GMT -6
Familiar hands were so quick to press to either side of Penny's face, and she closed her eyes with the new contact. A connection that felt so entirely real, but then again, memories had managed to trick their way into a believable state before. They were incredibly convincing, but here she was. Attentive as ever.
There was nothing enjoyable about being caught crying, except for perhaps the way her counterpart was so quick to try and comfort. But Penny remained there, even after a second prompting. Short breaths refused to be as quiet as she wished, and finally the psychometrist brought her own hands up, palms pressing against the back of her hands.
Light pressure kept them in place as Penny turned her head, allowing her lips to brush against one of Lucy's palms before she kissed it. She let out a slow exhale before managing the strength to look, because there was still a definite part of the English teacher who wanted to see her.
Post by Lucy Serrano on Feb 27, 2016 8:57:39 GMT -6
Admittedly, catching this woman crying was the kind of instance that put a shock to the system. Lucy wasn't entirely sure how to act; she had no recollection of how she was supposed to treat the moment. She had no information. No prior warning. She stepped into a situation far above her head with every hope of responding to the best of her ability, but that was never easy when walking blind. So she could only do what seemed right. What felt right. And when familiar hands pressed themselves to those that held her face, Lucy found recognition.
It was good, because as senses started flaring to a more heightened point she could pay better attention to the positivity provided. Gentle lips brushed themselves against the palm of her hand before sealing it off with short, precise pressure. She was looking for those eyes the second they sought to catch her, and she offered the easy connection like it was second nature now. On some level, it absolutely was.
"You're up." She replied, or perhaps reassured without totally knowing she'd done so. It was a simple response to an easily muddled message, but it was the best Lucy could give. It was the only thing she was sure she could give.
And then she wanted to do better, or be better depending on how it was to be taken. She brushed her thumbs lightly across her cheekbones once, refusing the concept of a therapeutic motion when she worked to catch potential tears instead. "What happened?" She asked then, because she felt strong enough to directly question the thing she didn't understand.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Feb 27, 2016 16:40:04 GMT -6
It was such a simple response, and yet it gave Penny a newfound sense of reassurance. This had never happened before. Those words have never passed her lips before, and they were so incredibly true. High emotions ran through her veins as tears ran down her cheeks, and in turn were brushed away by her thumbs. She was up. Awake. She had to wonder if Lucy knew just how much of a shock to the system that was.
And it was clear she didn't understand, at least not entirely, when she was then questioned. Her eyes remained fixed on Lucy's, hard as it was to look rather than hide her face again.
"I wasn't sure if it was real." Penny explained, lips pursing as tension ran through the length of her jaw. "I - um - I was here, and it felt familiar. Like I'd done this before." Because she had. A week living in this home, while she was away at work. Her explanation felt vague, and though she tried her best to clarify, it all was strained. "I started to wonder if it was too good to be real."
Post by Lucy Serrano on Feb 27, 2016 18:50:30 GMT -6
Truthfully, there was little way Lucy could even hope to understand what had happened. She didn't know the kind of reassurance she provided simply by being there; by making contact, by answering what she deemed was an obvious concept. By doing it all without sounding annoyed or irked or bothered by the way their morning was starting.
She even listened and tried her absolute best to piece together what it was Penny was saying. Too good to be real? It was a perfect shot to bolster her notorious ego, and in any there moment she would have taken it as such.
In this, she likely still would. Later.
Leaning inward, she pressed her lips against her forehead. She lingered in that contact for a spare set of seconds. Anything to remind her of realistic contact. When she let go, Lucy shifted her hands from her face too, circling around her shoulders instead. Practically pressing her inward. "Okay." Lucy replied, like she could take what was given at the very least.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Feb 29, 2016 11:53:57 GMT -6
Her hands had slowly moved to press to her face. Opposite, but incredibly needed. Her fingertips tracked the length of her jaw line, up across her cheeks to insure every details was of that she recalled. That nothing was off or had the potential to be misleading. To potentially prove that this wasn't real. But every detail was perfect, but it brought little comfort to the distressed psychometrist. She was still caught wavering on the edge of the precipice, about to fall with a moment's notice.
Because she had accepted Penny's weak explanation so readily. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she shook her head. Disbelief, or something along those lines. Penny herself didn't know.
It was getting worse. Every time. Every headache. She was frustrated with herself - with her own incompetency to just be able to live. "How do I know it's not?" She asked, though she knew Lucy hadn't the answer.
Post by Lucy Serrano on Feb 29, 2016 15:34:06 GMT -6
Hands were so slow to make defined contact with her own face. Fingertips followed the natural curves and contours of Lucy's expression as she stared back at the person who seemed to need that clarification. Anyone else might find the interaction strange; it probably did look strange. But Lucy was slow to learn of the necessity of her own existence.
"Because," Lucy started, lingering on the single word as she did her best to think on her feet. But the second she landed on something potentially concrete, she had to be grateful; "This's pretty new, isn't it?" She asked, but she had to wonder if that made sense. After all, a lot about this situation was new, "You stressing about this and me coming to find you. Me being here at all when you're living here is still new."
Had she known of her counterpart's ability before she left the last time, she mightn't have suggested briefly moving into the place she herself called home while she was gone. But there was nothing to be done of her decision now. No saving grace; "We've never done this before."
Post by Penelope Blaise on Mar 1, 2016 19:55:19 GMT -6
Lucy had an incredibly valid point, one that Penny hadn't pushed hard enough to let herself believe. It was true - they hadn't been having this conversation before. It was fresh for her psychometric mind, and despite how she worried that it could be playing tricks, she held onto that. Because she managed to bring comfort into something Penny couldn't do for herself.
Her fingers slowly breached the line of Lucy's hair, dragging into the dark locks as she pressed her forehead against the ink manipulator's. A breath, no, two, were needed to help clear away some of the distress.
Post by Lucy Serrano on Mar 2, 2016 2:26:45 GMT -6
Apologies didn't ever seem to suit them. Even when Lucy knew she owed one, it was the absolute last thing that would leave her mouth for anyone. She didn't like them. They practically left a bitter taste in her mouth at their very existence, and so she hardly wanted to hear one now. An apology was an admittance of fault, and Lucy was sure she had no fault to bare here.
It was just reacting off a feeling, wasn't it? Being afraid of the potential whateber it may appear as. Who could blame a person for that apprehension?
"Why?" Lucy asked her then, "You've got nothing to apologise for."
Because when it came to the ink manipulator and the newfound information she had been given by this woman, this was supposed to be second nature. At the very least, it was something she had signed up for. Willingly. And even when she knew what plagued her, she had never been willing to leave for it.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Mar 2, 2016 11:56:02 GMT -6
For the psychometrist, an apology practically felt needed. This wasn't something she had a proper handle on. It was an inconvenience. More, it was brutal, and now she was pulling someone else into the mix. Someone who was going into this practically blind, but providing expertise comfort.
When she was questioned as to why, Penny looked confused. Wasn't it obvious? Her eyes squeezed shut tightly. She strongly believed she did have something to apologize for, and being told otherwise was nothing short of overwhelming.
"For this at all." Penny replied after a few moments. "It shouldn't be a problem, yet it continues to be." Growing worse over the years rather than better. Causing more stress with every passing day, and now loaded onto the Australian's shoulders, too.
Post by Lucy Serrano on Mar 2, 2016 15:37:27 GMT -6
For Lucy, there was a type of grace in the random selection process that plagued meta-human individuals. She truly wore the aged nickname of Lucky with reason when it came to that. Because she looked at the woman who recently moved in with her, and she saw the way she struggled with the simplest of things, and she felt selfishly glad. It forced her eyebrows to lower in her own concern, because she could and likely would scold herself for the mental thought later. When she had a chance. When she wasn't busy putting someone else back together.
"You're the only one who thinks it's a problem." Lucy replied. Of course, on some level it did bring up some difficulties. Looking past someone living double the time in their relationship from the start to where they stood now wasn't an easy thing to try and calculate. Having someone declare love within a newer edge of clarity was forgivable. Actually, it was fine.
Honesty. It suited her well enough, she supposed. She hadn't the time to give this new issue a great deal of thought, so she hadn't the means or the time to lie about her own stance on it. "It's not a choice. Who's got the right to be mad at you for something you can't help?" At least for Lucy, she had no intention of projecting such a thought from herself. Instead she tried her best to carry a new sense of understanding, however taxing it could prove to be.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Mar 7, 2016 12:42:56 GMT -6
Penny had never taken into consideration that it wasn't her own fault. She believed that it as her curse to wear, and while she hadn't a choice in the matter, the way it added difficulty to her own life and those around her. From work to her now existent personal life. She had never allowed herself to give herself a break on the concept. And now, this woman was giving one for her.
She leaned forward, fingertips brushing under the shirt she had managed to procure before circling around Lucy's waist as she stepped in closer. Though she could have kissed the Australian, she simply pulled herself inward, lips brushing against her shoulder before she rested her chin atop of it.
"Thank you." She exhaled on a lower tone, eyes closing.