Serena isn't quite sure how she finds herself playing round after round of poker for chocolate on her own ward. It's a rather surreal experience, surrounded by partition curtains and losing rather spectacularly to all the others. She's very much aware that they are still in the hospital. She can hear the whir of the constant goings on, muted sounds of the hospital still playing the background.
It's like being in another world, another plane of existence. They play for what feels like hours, getting more competitive as they go. Serena learns that she has a seemingly awful poker face. Bernie seems to take especial delight in sniggering every time she loses another hand. She wishes she knew what her tell was, because she likes to think her game face is impressive when it's been worked upon.
She folds early into every game, conceding before the superior skills of her girlfriend and Artie. They play with utter concentration on their faces and Serena has to admit that it is rather endearing. She tries her hardest not to stare at Bernie, but she can't really help it now, can she?
Her brow is puckered in concentration, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't thinking about everything she'd like to do to Bernie, all stemming from the desire that look seems to spark within her. She finds herself getting distracted from the happenings of the game, imagining everything she'd like to do to Bernie. Every scenario in which she could make Bernie bite her lip in such a way again.
Or better yet, every scenario in which she could bite her lip and swallow the moans such an action would create. Bernie's poker face seems to be a wonder to behold, at least to Serena it is. She couldn't give the foggiest about what is actually happening, not when she gets to map every change in expression that passes across Bernie's face.
She finds herself getting hopelessly lost in her own thoughts, which aren't quite family friendly. With the look on Bernie's face, Serena can't quite blame herself for becoming easily distracted. Quite without meaning to, she finds herself with a new fantasy playing out within her head. It originates from a comment made by Morven earlier and from there it spirals. Really it is quite out of Serena's control.
It involves her and Bernie and strip poker. The stakes in it are much higher, because if she loses, Bernie stays dressed. Which simply won't do because she desperately wants to see the skin beneath the loose collar of her button up. She thinks that maybe a couple of buttons might come of done, because of course Bernie is a tease. Serena's fantasies play on real life aspects, because of course they do.
She can imagine her there, already having lost her shoes, socks and jacket. Just a button up shirt, jeans and underwear between her and what she wants. She can imagine Bernie losing her shirt, opening it slowly. Button by button, more delicious skin becoming exposed with every agonising second. She can see the shirt finally hanging open, exposing Bernie's heaving chest, encased within her favourite black lace bra.
She can imagine her shrugging off the shirt, sliding it slowly from her shoulders down her arms. She can see it before her eyes, pooling on the floor, creasing and forgotten. She can picture Bernie's teasing smirk as she pushes it away with her foot, just the one corner of her mouth quirking up. It's in a way that only Bernie could make sexy. And she'll be damned if it isn't just the sexiest thing in the planet.
She imagines winning another round, her poker face perfectly in place. Teasing Bernie with lingering touches and scorching looks. Looks that promise the best fuck she's ever had at the end of the night. Of course, she's still fully clothed, because she knows it'll drive Bernie more wild. She imagines Bernie peeling those damned skinny jeans down her legs, inch by inch. She imagines her getting impatient and kicking them off, awkward but so Bernie that it is beyond sexy.
Serena imagines herself getting impatient, not being able to go along with the game any longer. Imagines the anticipation to be too much. Imagines herself pulling Bernie up, kissing her with brushing force, walking her back until she hits the wall. Imagines pushing herself flush against Bernie, breasts brushing with even the slightest movement. Imagines Bernie's moans as she finally slips her hand beneath her underwear. Imagines finding her wet and wanting, so wound up from the imagines every sordid thing she could do to Bernie, and she can feel the desire within her spike.
She comes to only to find Bernie staring at her, a bemused smile spread across her lovely face. Serena can feel the heat in her cheeks, ruddy in the harsh lighting. The flush is spread down her neck and beneath her collar, she can feel her flesh practically radiating heat beneath her blouse. An eyebrow is quirked in her direction, a questioning gaze directed at her. Then the gaze isn't so questioning and Bernie's eyes widen in understanding.
It seems that they are done playing poker for the evening, and Serena has been staring into space for an insurmountable amount of time. And by the looks of things, Bernie can read her like a book. Which isn't exactly surprising, because she's an open person and Bernie knows her, but shite she's been caught at at moment she'd rather not be caught at.
The look Bernie is directing at her renews the heat bubbling in the pit of her stomach, desire seems to shoot through every nerve ending in her body. She just knows that Bernie is coming home with her tonight, because she'll be damned if she's not. She'd rather they got home sooner rather than later, what with the state she's working herself into.
It's almost uncanny, how Bernie seems to be able to read her mind like no other. She seems to know what she is thinking almost always. Especially when Serena really wishes that she didn't. Except she doesn't really wish that she didn't, because she can see the intrigue in Bernie's eyes. And it's enchanting, really. It is.
She knows that the strip poker game won't happen, and she kind of doesn't want it to. She'll share so many moments with Bernie, over the years. They're just at the beginning, and she's sure they'll live out many of their shared fantasies over the years. In all reality, strip poker just wouldn't work out in the way she wants it to. Because she knows that her biggest tell is that she's an awful liar.