Wide Awake

[Lucy Serrano]

When she was asked, Lucy pondered the decision proposed to her. She could have anything she wanted she was sure; her money could pour into her own pockets and line the streets the next morning.

She inhaled sharply at the brush of lips against the spot on her skin. Nails dragged further into the line of her hair, and this time she twisted her wrist enough to curl her fingers around those locks.

"Something... Less personal." Lucy replied then. If nothing else, she wanted something she could be less connected to. And that was the nicest way she could give that thought to her without making to so personal on its own.

[Penelope Blaise]

Penny could linger against her skin for ages without growing tired of it. She stayed the nights. It gave the senator hours with this girl, and they were always well spent. Savored, if she let herself admit it. She was slow to drag her lips up to the thief's collarbone, precise pressure was fleeting in nature. To keep her struggling, too.

Less personal. Did that make the scaled creature she bought personal? Penny couldn't argue with the fact, and somehow that irked her. Maybe because she had made that connection.

"Alright." Penny agreed. It was the most she could give by way of words. She pressed the two syllables against the thief's neck, falling back on her physical nature as she brushed past the ink at her waist.

[Lucy Serrano]

It was a dangerous thing to even mention. Lucy knew the weight of her words before they had even left her mouth, and when they were accepted so easily, she didn't dare question it. She wouldn't dream of building on something that was already so close to an insurmountable line between them.

She was grateful then that the concept of talking was severed between them. The last thing Lucy wanted was to try and pick up the conversation they both didn't seem willing to have. So she let her fingers tighten in her hair will a borderline brutal grip. And with the door having been closed, she was sealed away completely. There was no point in trying to maintain a quieter edge to the name that passed her lips and threatened to burn the ceiling.

[Penelope Blaise]

Penny was familiar with the strength behind those familiar hands. They gripped her hair with enough power to make her seethe, but it was as intoxicating as it was painful. Just as the way her own name sounded coming from her mouth. Without the threat of being heard, there was little to stop the risen nature of Lucy's voice, and without a doubt the senator preferred it that way.

It was personal, though Penny would never admit it as such. Each sound that passed the thief's lips felt shaped specifically for her. Like a reminder of how hard she had to work to get to this bed in the first place. How she would keep working so hard to return, even if Penny failed on her agreement to make it easier.

When she felt the initial trembles of her form, dark eyes opened, though not hoping to catch another set staring back at her. It was easy too look. Too perfect not to.

[Lucy Serrano]

When she was stared at, it was almost like Lucy knew a set of dark eyes were calling out to her. When she opened her own, she was practically struck with the way she was being looked at. There was something heavier in that expression, but she didn't know what it was, and she wasn't willing to question someone who didn't like to be questioned about her own intensity. At least, not when it came to this.

She eased the pressure from the locks of hair coiled around her own fingers, and in the same motion she forced herself to take a breath. Short and sharp, it had her shoulders drawing back from just how useless it was.

Eyelids were drawn heavy; even blinking would become a gradual chore, but it must have been known that she would find the need to sleep sooner rather than later. She had been exhausted from the difficulty of the world behind those closed doors. She had been exhausted here.

"I should go soon," Lucy denoted finally, but she stared intently enough, like she was searching for an answer to that thought; "I think?"

[Penelope Blaise]

Penny hadn't been expected to get caught. Her eyes opened, and Penny felt the threat of heat in her cheeks, but never did she look away. Closing her own eyes would only look like guilt, and she refused to be ashamed for staring.

When those hands loosened their hold, Penny slowly started to shift, settling down at the thief's side. She could feel her own exhaustion start to take over as she draped an arm across Lucy's torso. Though her own job couldn't have been nearly as physically taxing as hers, she could still feel tiredness seep into her system.

And as Lucy spoke, Penny exhaled against her shoulder. When she lifted her head, it was to brush her lips against her cheek lightly.

This time, she did close her eyes; "Stay."

[Lucy Serrano]

When a body settled beside her own, Lucy couldn't react the way her counterpart had not too long ago. She didn't see the point in it; not when she gained so much from the newer state of proximity. If her eyes could open now, she would stare at the ceiling with a kind of odd contentment.

Fingers were slow then to filter through the hair she had only just held. It was dangerous, and it was incredibly stupid, but Lucy felt far too drawn to this woman to ever find the means to stop. So affection would have to be given, and it would have to simply be accepted.

"Alright." She declared finally, but she had already shown by her actions that she wasn't going anywhere. She didn't have the energy, and she certainly didn't have the desire.

[Penelope Blaise]

When she found comfort in the person beside her, Penny couldn't think to be concerned over saving face. Tired enough not to care, instead giving the form she rested against a small squeeze, settling a cheek against her shoulder.

Her eyes closed when fingers brushed through her hair, a gentle contrast to the way she had just been gripping those same locks. Her own fingertips slowly drew up and down the length of her side.

"Tell me," Penny began softly, "Why do you always come back?" Perhaps it was her tired nature getting the better of her, or her own curiosity.

[Lucy Serrano]

Lucy felt a small pattern follow the contours of her form. It was enough to threaten a shake to her system, but she didn't have the strength for that lack of control. Besides, it was good. Comforting, even.

The question posed to her was something worth considering. "I've never thought about it." She replied honestly. The thought had really never crossed her mind, and now that it was there, she had to think. But that wasn't easy, given how tired she felt she was. How her mind refused to function as well as it should have been.

"It's fun." Lucy replied. It was a safe answer; "I like it."

"-You." She added then, thoughtfully. Of course she liked her, but it wasn't the right thing to say fully.

[Penelope Blaise]

With the few moments that past, Penny was beginning to realize exactly how tired she was. When she closed her eyes, they felt heavy. As she exhaled, the shallow breath dusted against the curve of Lucy's neck as she dragged a leg between both of hers. The senator wasn't suited for affection, but she kept herself close with a new brand of proximity. To get lost in her, though not in the usual way.

It was a simple response, and that final word was tacked on almost like an afterthought. Or perhaps it was more than that. Regardless, Penny pressed in closer, the tip of her nose drawing up along the thief's neck lightly.

"Good." Penny replied finally, but the drop of her voice and delay in her response likely gave away her slowly slipping consciousness. "I like it. When you're here."

[Lucy Serrano]

The answer Penny gave her was muddled by the way she moved. How she drew herself absolutely closer like it didn't matter. Like she wouldn't be called out for it, because it wasn't a bad thing. And for Lucy, she liked that her company was liked.

Relief was something to be short lived. At least, it was in the way anxiety seemed to drown it out. "It's more than that too." She tried, but she had to stop. Initially, she didn't know what kind of explanation would have been accepted. They had just talked about the importance of not getting personal. Sentimental.

"There's a kind of..." Lucy composed the beginning perfect, but a perfect resolution had to exist somewhere; "Purpose."

[Penelope Blaise]

She waited for the explanation once the beginnings of one hit the air, but her mind was growing slower and slower with keeping up the conversation they managed to stumble upon. A tired mind accepted words that threatened to be sweet. She let them envelop her as the corner of her mouth pulled up into a more genuine smile.

Purpose. That, she could relate to. For a job that was so taxing with such little progress, she offered company to look forward to at the end of her work day.

But she couldn't manage to voice that, and this time not for the sake of saving face. Penny's breathing slowly started to even out, in practical tandem to the hands moving through her hair.

[Lucy Serrano]

There was no answer to be granted to the thief who pushed herself out on a ledge to speak at all. She considered just what else she could add; she should have mentioned that this gave her life a new perspective and purpose. But she never got the chance. She fell asleep, and Lucy had little time to register it. She was fast behind her.

The plan in the morning was always the same. It was always to be followed to the letter. Her body would drag her into consciousness well before the sun rose, and she would give herself the time to vacant the grounds she could never be caught in. It was exact. Perfect. Clever.

Except today. Early threats of the warmth of sunlight hit the room they shared, and Lucy was still clinging to the body she shared a bed with.

[Penelope Blaise]

Penny had no intention to end a conversation that she actually needed to hear, but sleep was an overpowering force. Hours passed easily; the stir of a person leaving her bed before daybreak hadn't even woken her as it always did. Because she had never stirred at all. The morning sun would always wake Penny, shining through the window, painting streaks of light across her bedding. Across the form that clung to her own.

It took her a few moments to realize the situation they found themselves in. Lucy was still here. Still tangled with herself without any concern as they had been before succumbing to sleep.

Even then, her thoughts were still muddled. Her eyes had yet to fully open as she brushed her lips lightly against the thief's cheek.

[Lucy Serrano]

An internal clock had to be the thief's best friend. Lucy had no choice but to rely on how she would wake herself without fail. Her mind was supposed to pull her upwards and have her scaling the walls before the sun could reach them.

She would sleep then, for a few hours at most in the little space she had before she had to get back to work again. Scaling streets for sneaky pockets.

At the very least, contact from another should have woken someone who should have slept lightly.

She didn't wake. She didn't even begin to stir to any kind of consciousness. The most she did was squeeze the body she held so close, her hand loosening a moment later in her own evident contentment.