'Ello Poppet.
Viers Connory
Lucy had been still for almost three whole minutes.
That was, by any reasonable measure, a personal record, and she knew it, which was probably why the stillness had a quality to it that was less patience and more coiled. She was sitting on the floor with her back against whatever surface was behind her and her legs crossed and her eyes half-closed, the focusing crystal at her throat catching the light in small, idle ways, and she looked for all the world like someone who had achieved a state of genuine meditative calm.
She had not achieved a state of genuine meditative calm.
The young woman was watching Viers, her beloved.
Not obviously. That was the game, had been the game since they'd started, the question of whether Lucy could track someone with her eyes mostly shut and her presence in the Force pulled in close and quiet, folded down to something small enough not to be immediately felt. Lucy was, by her own assessment, getting better at it. Lucy had wanted to practice, to spar, to figure out a more complementary fighting style with one another. Rather, the brunette wanted to figure out how her fighting style could compliment Viers'.
A strand of dark hair had fallen across her cheek. She didn't move it.
Somewhere to her left, something shifted, a small sound, the particular quality of weight redistributed, and the corner of her mouth moved. Just slightly.
There.
"You know," she said, in the conversational tone of someone who had absolutely not just been tracking Viers' position through the Force for the better part of ten minutes, "I've been thinking."
She opened her eyes.
"We should try something."
The smile that followed was the specific smile that meant she had already decided what they were trying, had probably been thinking about it since before they'd started, and was only now getting around to mentioning it as a courtesy.
"Nothing dangerous." The brunette offered casually, and then flatly added. "Probably."