familia supra omnia

I'm not praying to be born into a different family and I'm not asking to be anything different than who I am. But please, Lord, let me have the chance to do something for myself. ■

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

He supposed, since ‘knowing’ Rose–that is to say, since being a borderline stalker of Rose–he had to have developed his own routine. Much to his chagrin. There was nothing about her that ever stepped outside of schedule, and he wondered (not for the first time, and certainly not for the last) with a sort of sick amusement what it would be like to throw a wrench into her plans. What if, say, one day–she wasn’t able to get lunch with her father at exactly the same time? What if something came up, what on earth would she do with her time? Break, probably. But to break a Morgan that way would be all too easy. This plan would be far more satisfying. Why go after one when you can attack the foundation? That was how he had been raised. The Carlisles never went after small fish unless it was part of a bigger picture.

He had to resist the urge to laugh. He’d sooner die than check into the 9-5 life, what could possibly motivate him to desire such a mundane reality? Nate absolutely needed chaos to feel alive. Anything less and his mind would go insane. The idea of having children to come home too–no doubt a fantasy of Rose’s–was even more unsettling. Offspring sounded like his worst nightmare come to fruition. But this was not the time for honesty. This was the time to appeal to Rose. That was the trick to manipulation, it had to be peppered with moments of reality, yes, but lies were always necessary. “Well, you know. I’m young right now. I guess this life suits me, but I don’t think it’s forever,” he was careful not to sound too wistful here so as to seem mocking. He always tended to make critical mistakes in that sense. Sometimes, he just couldn’t help the condescension that slipped into his tone when talking to people with goals as monotone as Rose’s. “One day, I guess, I’d like to. You know. Do that whole thing,” he tried to sound embarrassed, “Family, and all that,” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Perfect.

Rose was intelligent. He knew that much about her from the get-go. It was practically a stipulation of his: he wouldn’t spend all this time for some dim-witted Morgan. It had to be challenging. It had to be real, require hard work and research. Lots and lots of research. This was the way in which Nate was a contradiction in himself. He enjoyed doing things that required as little effort as possible, enjoyed instant gratification as it were, but needed to be pushed where it mattered–or he’d half-ass and screw over the whole thing. Not that he was given the option to have stipulations, since things didn’t work that way in his family, but still. It was a rule. Rose had to be smart, or he wouldn’t bother with the whole charade. It seemed such a waste for her to pour it all into school, and he allowed himself the fantasy of turning her against her own family and convincing her to join the Carlisles in rank. If only for the pure, simple reason of her beautiful mind. In any case, all those twisted thoughts aside, he’d sincerely rather blow his brains out. In fact, he was tempted to say as much. “Smart kid. Let me guess: summa cum laude, too? Your CV will be action-packed. I bet you’ll be beating back offers up to your throat,” he let out an impressed smile, shaking his head, as if he couldn’t believe who he was talking to. “Oh, sorry. There I go again. Calling you kid.” 

She seemed…uncomfortable relaying all of this to him. Which didn’t surprise him whatsoever, both from what he knew about her and what he knew about Morgans. They weren’t fond of discussing unpleasant things and neither did they enjoy honesty or bluntness when it came to opinions they had of others. That was one of the many ways in which their families differed. Marilyn, in particular, was one of the bluntest people he’d ever known. There was no hiding from her cold gaze. She’d tell you what she thought, no matter how cruel it came across. His father, on the other hand, was much more calculated in relaying his honesty. He’d only ever use it to his advantage, but he’d still advocate for it over anything else. Nate supposed that was simply what happened when you were that powerful: you didn’t have to be kind. “Huh. He called me a vigilante? I’m flattered. I’ve always wanted to be a superhero,” he joked, hoping it would lighten the mood and ease her discomfort. “You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings, Rose, I’ve heard plenty in my life and I’m positive I’ll hear plenty more.” He paused. “What, no pressing questions?”

The longer she talked to Nathaniel, the more she found that she enjoyed his company. Though it was hard to welcome distraction, Rose tried even more to ignore the fact that she would hushed Evan five or six times at this point. A week ago Evan had sat across from her while she was finishing up an essay. ‘So the Giants…’ ‘Evan!’ ‘Sorry.’ It wasn’t as if she was trying to push off Evan but there were things that had to be done. Although she didn’t feel the pressure of deadlines at the moment, usually her mind was already thinking ahead about trying to get things done. Yet here she was, chatting with a stranger about nothing really. They were just getting to know one another, the way two might on a first date.

But this wasn’t a date.

Rose pushed the comparison aside because it meant nothing. These were two different situations. Instead, she focused her attention on him again and nodded. Though their lives didn’t match up at the moment, their end goals seemed to fall in line. Though she suspected that was true for most people. Getting married and having kids was always the end goal. There may be differences on how many children to have but it seemed unnatural to not have children. People who didn’t have children either always seemed grumpy or they were out there being selfish with their time and money then flaunting it on social media. Children were a blessing and anyone that failed to see that needed to readjust their values. Her smile softened, “Well, I’m sure that’ll all come in good time right? You’re living it up right now with all your freelance work and then you’ll have it all out of your system so you can settle down with someone. That all sounds lovely, Nate.”

“Yes, summa cum laude. I’ve been working really hard at that 4.0. It’s very important to me that I graduate with the best grades possible. I worked hard so hard and if you’re not going to be the best that there is, then why bother at all?” Rose tried not to look too proud but it faded anyway once she realized that he had called her kid then backtracked to call attention to it. “You don’t have to point it out. I was willing to let the mistake go but you went and brought it back up. I don’t know why you insist on calling me a kid in the first place.” Intentional or not, Rose wanted nothing to do with the nickname. If he was doing it on purpose to annoy her then she wasn’t going to waste her time befriending someone that clearly did not respect her wishes. If it was unintentional, that pointed to issues of superiority that he wasn’t aware of. That almost seemed worse since the slip would take self-monitoring to resolve and obviously he wasn’t willing to do that. “I don’t know if I believe that you’re truly sorry about it but I’ll let it go this one last time.”

It wasn’t an honor to be a vigilante but Nate seemed to think it was. She allowed the joke anyway, figuring that if she tried to explain to him that vigilante justice wasn’t justice at all it would just end in a disagreement and she was enjoying speaking to him too much to start something up (though normally she didn’t have a problem voicing her opinion). Rose tilted her head to the side with a frown. “I’m sorry. I know that we’ve all gotten our feelings hurt but when you put it that way… I just… I don’t like contributing to something like that. Know that I would never intentionally hurt your feelings and if I do, please tell me so that I can properly apologize.” It was the polite thing to say but Rose knew that she would have trouble apologizing for anything that she felt she was in the right for doing. Growing up her apologies were as sincere as she could make them while still asserting that she was in the right. Morgans, in general, were not very good at apologies. Growing up, Rose had taken Donovan’s soldiers to use alongside her dolls. I’m sorry I took your G.I. Joes, Donovan, but maybe next time don’t leave them out where anyone can play with them if you don’t want them used. She promptly returned back to playing with both the Barbies and soldiers.

“Of course, I have questions but I believe it was actually your turn to ask one. I asked you if you always saw yourself in freelance and you answered. Your turn.” If he was going to hold her to arbitrary rules then she would do the same for him. Rose looked down at her watch. “I’ve got class soon though, unfortunately.”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

Did he like it? He’d never considered it in such a way. For Nate, his half-hearted career as a consultant in risk, data and general financial analysis was nothing more than a means to an end. There was never any room for him to think about whether he liked it or not, to the point where the question almost stumped him. Did people like their jobs, in any case? His plan was laid out for him long ago, and there was no room given to question it or disagree. At that moment, a parallel appeared between them that he wouldn’t be too happy to agree to. Just as much as Rose was simply following the Book of Morgan, he was following the Book of Carlisle. Truthfully, no, he didn’t particularly enjoy it. While he was fond of analysis in general, and certainly had the head for it, it wasn’t work that made him proud. Aside from the fact that most of his clients had been more or less slyly given to him through his family’s connections (unbeknownst to them, and any other prying eyes, of course), which to him meant it was neither earned nor deserved, it was also just…not a life he liked. But the thought that he didn’t like it, that realization, contradicted so sharply with his narrative he didn’t want to consider it any further. “I’ve always liked math. It’s like a puzzle I have to solve, and there is only right and wrong–which, really, is just about the only thing in life where that is true–and I think it’s fun, honestly. So, yeah. It’s alright. It’s flexible, too. I’m not great with routine,” there was another form of freelance work he did–a secret he kept to himself, though, and one he refused to admit to anyone else. Yet there it stood at the tip of his tongue, and he found himself wanting to disclose it with her. But it would be too risky, too irrational, even if he imagined it would potentially tug at her interests. 

Whether he believed it or not, he was happy with her response. He even wore an impressed smile on his face, and it was only half-intentional. Her ambition and thirst for knowledge or a challenge was an admirable trait–objectively–and though Nate himself was not one for such pursuits, he always liked being around over-achievers. Something about their vibrant energy seemed to rub off on him, and he always left feeling like he could go write a novel if he wanted to. Not that he ever would act on those feelings, but it was nice when they came nonetheless. He wondered if the fact that she sought out challenging things could be applied to him. As much as men felt a primal need to fix things and problems as soon as they came, Nate knew–through his research and through literal experiences–that women were fond of fixing, too. Especially men. “That’s good. I think it’s important to study something you like, otherwise you’re just putting yourself through hell for nothing,” he said, adding an exaggerated shudder for comedic effect as he thought of university. “How many years do you have left, anyway?” 

He shook his shoulders back and straightened his back, looking clearly amused, before putting on a serious face. “Why not? I can take it. And you can’t skip a question, that’s against the rules,” he’d been having genuine fun taking note of her various little idiosyncrasies. Just from this simple conversation–even if they were playing a game of questions–he’d learned so much about her. Honestly, probably even more from what she wasn’t saying than from what she was. Why did they hate him? As begrudging as he was to admit, it was probably because they were good at their job. They could sniff the trouble on him, even if there was no evidence to support the fact. In this particular case he’d taken care to assure they would hate him. But obviously he wasn’t able to share that with her.  “I don’t really have the look of a model citizen, I guess. It’s been like that since I was a teenager. And I was a bit of a scumbag back then. Maybe I’m just too anti-authority for my own good,” he added an inflection to his tone, signifying he wasn’t taking the statement too seriously, even if it was entirely true. At least when it came to police officers. He pursed his lips, “We have different opinions of cops, I guess,” and he hoped it could be left at that. 

The longer they spoke, Rose could see how truly different they were in almost every single way. At their cores, maybe they shared similar values and beliefs (though she was starting to doubt that too) but so far it seemed like they were coming up empty handed. He was great at conversation and she liked coffee (maybe one thing they had in common) so she wasn’t in any hurry to rush out of the coffee shop yet. Rose thrived on routine. Every morning she woke up at six to take a run, somewhere between three to six miles depending on how she felt and the weather. When she returned, she showered, ate breakfast, and mentally went over her plans for the day as well as her to-do list. Finally, she put on makeup and fixed her hair before putting on the outfit that she had laid out for herself the night before. She ate lunch with her father at the same time every week at the same diner and her nighttime routine was just as organized and systematic as her mornings. To her, it always set her up for a productive day and a calm evening. She imagined the difference between Rose and Nate’s mornings looked something like the opening sequence to Freaky Friday or maybe she’s Cher Horowitz and he’s Ferris Bueller. She wasn’t sure what was worse. If she was having coffee with Ferris Bueller, she couldn’t imagine not taking out a half an hour or so to reprimand him for his actions. There was nothing funny about skipping school, stealing cars, or hijacking a parade that many people worked very hard to put on! Plus he deceived his parents and an his entire town purely for attention. Worst of all, he got away with it. To be having coffee with a Ferris Bueller type seemed like a nightmare and considering she had met Nathaniel in the precinct, the thought did cross her mind. But the circumstances were in that rare grey area that she wasn’t completely convinced even existed. She decided, maybe for her own sake, that Nathaniel was not the Ferris Bueller type. “I cannot imagine a life without routine but I commend you being able to do so. It seems like a stressful way to live; I just think my mind isn’t built for it. So since you’re not one for routine does that mean you’ll stick to freelance work or do you think someday you’ll head for that 9-5 life?”

“I graduate in the spring and then hopefully move right on to graduate school.” She said simply with a smile. It was a fact that she was proud of and knew that graduating summa cum laude and getting.a masters degree was impressive. It had gone to her head slightly after so many people told her how smart she was and that they were impressed with how dedicated she was.

The rules of this game weren’t real since it wasn’t a real game. However, Rose couldn’t bring herself to fight it any more than she just had. Instead she decided to heavily censor everything. She had gotten the impression that Nate did not care one way or another if she swore. However, she cared if she swore and she was sure the mothers of the little ears in the coffee shop would appreciate that as well. “Fine. Well, to be fair, he didn’t start off ranting about you. It started as him being angry that I had talked him into letting you go in the first place. There were some very unkind and sexist accusations but it’s nothing I haven’t heard and couldn’t handle. From there he went on to talk about how I didn’t know what I was talking about and that even if you had the cleanest record, it didn’t excuse you from the consequences. He started going off about how he could tell you were truly a bad person and that I didn’t have the eye for it yet.” She tapped her fingers against the table, pretending to think as if the conversation couldn’t replay crisply in her mind. She thought maybe if she pretended like it was hard to remember the insults it’d seem like there were fewer of them. “He called you trash, then vigilante trash, a no good… person…” she censored the paraphrasing “that thinks that just because he assaults someone doing wrong that makes him in the right and better than the police officers doing the real work. There were a lot of choice words in there that I don’t feel comfortable using. But that, in essence, is what he said about you. You’re welcome for the abridged version because I did not enjoy the fifteen minute long one.”

[morgan-rose]

Merry Little Christmas.

The snow was slowly piling up outside as Rose decorated for the holiday inside her apartment. She was still in the habit for getting up early despite not being able to go for her runs on mornings like these where the sidewalks weren’t cleared. She didn’t mind too much as long as she had something to do in the morning that felt productive. As much as she loved Nate, she wasn’t built to sleep in like he was. She left Nate asleep her in bedroom, thankful that she didn’t wake him when she got up. Whenever there was protest from him in the morning, she always reminded herself that it was a positive thing that he wanted her around so much in the morning. She was lucky to be with someone who wanted her to come back to bed just to cuddle a little while longer. Although Anna said it would annoy the hell out of her, Rose really did like it. She just hated disturbing his sleep unnecessarily. She’d go back and lay with him when she was finished. As she hung colored lights around her apartment she realized it would have been easier to wait for Nate to get up since she required several textbooks on top of a chair to reach the command hooks that she had placed near the top of the walls last year. She knew that Nate wouldn’t have to do much more than reach a little to hang the lights but Rose had done it before by herself and she could do it again. She hummed to herself as she lined the perimeter of the room, frequently getting down from her makeshift ladder to move it over a foot or two and climb back up. Once she was done, she stepped back to admire her work but found herself disappointed. It wasn’t enough. Rose went back to work and rearranged the living room so her coffee table would fit against the wall. She pulled out her small Christmas tree from the hall closet and set it up on the coffee table then carefully placed Christmas ornaments on the fake branches, stepping back every few minutes to survey the spacing of the ornaments and to make sure there was an even distribution of colors from every angle. And it sill wasn’t done. It had to be perfect. It was her first real Christmas with Nate and their first holiday together since they had started dating again. The holidays had a way of supporting those with families and making people who had lost theirs feel empty. If Rose could help make this time happier or at the very least easier for him then she would find a way and she wasn’t ever going to stop trying. Nate didn’t talk about his feelings often but she could see how much it hurt him. It was always brief and she had to be quick enough to catch it before he built those walls back up. Since he didn’t want to talk about it, she had to meet him on his level. It was the best way she could think of to support him, to try and take some of the pain that the holidays brought and ease it, and to give him new and happier memories. There was just one more thing she had to do. They were tucked away in a shopping bag in the hall closet. She had bought them a few weeks ago but she figured there wasn’t a better time than this to put them up. She didn’t have a fireplace or a mantle so instead she hung them on the wall beside the Christmas tree with two more wall hooks. Now it was perfect. Two stockings. A white stocking with red snowflakes and a matching red stocking with white snowflakes hung beside each other. The white stocking monogrammed with an ‘R’ across the top and the red stocking with an ‘N’. Rose turned off the lights in the living room, leaving only the Christmas lights on for now. She walked back to her bedroom and took off her sweater, folding it neatly and setting it on the edge of the bed before crawling under the covers. It was enough to stir Nate awake and she smiled as he opened his eyes slowly, “Come here.” His voice was low and still sounded sleepy. She settled down under the sheets and then moved close to him, laying her head on his chest. Even though she wanted to pull him out of the bed to show him what she had been working on all morning, Rose knew that like everything else with Nate she had to be patient.

[morgan-rose]

Travel log, India

India.

I spent the night with Jackson in the emergency room. His outbursts are getting worse and tonight he slammed his hand through the drywall. I held him for a bit, trying to get him to settle down but it took about twenty minutes. I had to throw out both my shirt and his shirt because I couldn’t get the bloodstains completely out but the important part is that he’s okay. Donovan watched Chris and Hope, who were both asleep by the time we got home. Thankfully, Jackson fell asleep in the car ride on the way home and all I had to do was carry him inside and tuck him in. I’ll probably keep him home tomorrow and let him rest since we got back so late. He sees the school counselor often but things seem to be getting worse. Not just with him either, because Jackson needs so much of my attention and Hope is still so young that she needs so much attention as well, Chris is fading into the background. By the time I get a free moment to talk to him, he’s not very interested in talking. Some of that is his personality and I know that but I also think I’ve lost touch with him. I’ve given him the impression that he’s not as important. I do so much work to make sure Jackson is calm and I make sure we talk about the country you’re “visiting” every single night and he’s just not interested. Hope sits with us the nights we do it early enough that I haven’t put her to bed yet. And Chris just sits in his room and reads. I’m such a terrible mother. I’ve really fucked up.

Please come and help me. I’m drowning here.

India (day two).

Jackson spent most of the morning curled up in bed with me. He was so loving and very clingy. He didn’t want me to go anywhere without him, I think he was really emotionally exhausted. Chris still isn’t saying much. I can see how exhausted he is too but I don’t know how to help him. I’m at such a loss and I know you would know how to get through to him, I know because it’s how you cope too. If you were here though, I wouldn’t have to worry about having to figure it out though. It’s funny how these things work. Though it isn’t actually funny… I haven’t laughed in weeks. I miss you and your stupid jokes. I miss Chris’ goofy little smile whenever he thought one of your jokes was funny. My serious little boy and that silly little smile. I haven’t seen him smile once since he lost his top tooth and goodness, I think it’d be such a cute thing.

Give me a sign, something that you’re coming home soon.

India (day six).

You’re staying in India another week. Jackson is enjoying learning about it so much I decided to do two weeks of it. Plus he’s been reading on his own about India a lot and if I can continue that then it’ll give me some extra time with Chris. He’s got essentially two facial expressions now and has become as non-verbal as possible with me. I try to stick to yes or no questions because otherwise he really doesn’t communicate. At first I thought it was only me but he won’t speak with Jackson and he doesn’t talk to Hope. He used to play with her and sometimes read to her but lately he shuts himself in his room and doesn’t leave until I tell him to come down for dinner or to go take a shower… and at dinner he doesn’t eat much. I’m so worried about him. I know Jackson is too, I can see him trying to figure out how to help.

Tell me how to help him, love.

India (day eight).

Tonight I went to make sure that Jackson had gotten ready for bed and he wasn’t in his room. I looked all over, terrified that he’d decided to run away and find you or something. He’s been asking me how to get to the airport, how much it costs to buy a ticket, I felt stupid for not seeing it before. I found him in Chris’ room, both of them curled up and sleeping together in Chris’ bed. I hope Jackson can help him, maybe be a better support than I could. I just found out today that Chris has also stopped talking in school. He does all his work but he doesn’t answer in class, spend time with his friends…. He’s completely withdrawn from everyone. I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of his. I just want to help.

How do I help him?

India (day twelve).

I took Chris out to the movies tonight, just the two of us. They made the book he’d been reading into a movie so I thought it’d be nice if I could spend some time with just him. He didn’t talk the whole time but he pointed to things and nodded if he needed to. I saw him smile a little bit during the movie and it was nice to see. Sometimes I wonder if he wants to talk but just cannot bring himself to do so. There are times I do think he is so shut down that he cannot and does not want to speak but nights like tonight, it was the most relaxed I’d seen him in so long I feel like if I could have kept his mind off of things maybe he would have said something. He laid in our bed with me while I talked to him for a little bit about how proud I was of him for being so strong while you’re gone. I told him how much you love him and that if you could, you would be calling every day. He cried until he fell asleep and although he didn’t talk at all, somehow it still felt like a step in the right direction. I think he trusts me a little more now.    

I still trust you. Please come home.

[morgan-rose]

Travel log, Japan & Australia

Japan.

Nate,

Today you’ve just landed in Japan. This may as well be a travel log rather than a journal. Jackson asked me for a full-sized map the other day to hang on his wall and he’s been putting pins in every country as you travel to them.  After some deliberation I bought it for him yesterday and hung it last night. It breaks my heart already to walk in and see it there with it’s five pins. One for every week you’ve been gone. I hate that I have to lie to them and I worry that they’ll realize it and hate me. I just don’t want you to not want to come back because you think they hate you, I think keeping them in the dark is the best idea for now. I have hope that you’ll come home. You always do the right thing. If nothing else, Jackson will be so well versed in geography. He’s a bright kid and has such a great mind for memorizing facts. I’ve watched him absorb all this information. Sometimes he scribbles down his favorite facts on sheets of paper. Part of me wants to get him a notebook but I’m not sure I should dig a hole any deeper than we’re already all in with this lie.

ai shiteru

Japan (day three).

I can’t tell if Christopher doesn’t care much for knowing where you are or if he doesn’t believe me. Part of me thinks that he doesn’t need it as much as Jackson and I do. He’s a lot like you, love. I see it more in him every day. I see it in both of our boys and I’m so glad. I know you don’t think much of yourself, you minimize your accomplishments and positive traits, dwell on the negative. But I think it’s amazing. Chris just knows you’re not here and I think that’s all he really wants to know about it. Last night he crawled into bed with me and cried for a while then asked if he did more chores would you come back. My heart is so heavy and I alternate between depression and anger. I’m trying to be so strong, trying not to show how afraid I am that you’ll never come home but it’s so hard. Money doesn’t tell me much except either you’re alive or someone wants me to think you are.

ki wo tsukete.

Australia.

It’s the second time this week and the third in the past two weeks that I’ve had to pick up Jackson from school. I don’t know how to stop these outbursts. He’s hurt other children, he’s hurt himself…he’s calm at home when he’s with me and he does better when he’s with Chris but it’s not his responsibility to look after his brother. Besides, they’re in different classes. The school counselor says this is common, that he doesn’t know how to process his emotions so it’s coming out with physical violence. I just don’t know how to help him.

Nate I know you’re scared but please come home. I know you love me and you love your children so why can’t you just come home and talk to me about this? We can figure everything out! Why do you take it upon yourself to decide what it best for all of us? Oh honey, if you saw us here I’m so sure you would not think this is the best option for us. We miss you. I’m trying so hard to be patient and understanding but it’s hard to watch all of this unfold while still trying to keep in mind that everything you and I went through was terrifying for the both of us. I certainly cannot explain that to the kids. I don’t regret downplaying it for them, especially now when their father is gone and they would have known that I was almost gone too.

I love you.

Australia (day four).

Today Hope’s preschool teacher said that I was so strong. That she could never do what I’m doing for our kids. She’s so quiet that I guess it came as a surprise when she told her teacher “daddy fly”. I don’t feel brave, I don’t feel strong. I feel like such a terrible mom for lying to them about where you are. And an even worse mother for letting you go because as much as Christopher blames himself, I can’t stop blaming myself either. How could I let any of this happen? I have to go pick out a country for next week and I wanted to say North Korea, at least it would explain your lack of communication for once. I’m sorry for writing that in pen. I’ve crossed it out and I swear I’m trying so hard to not think bad thoughts because I don’t want them to become standard and I don’t want negativity to fill where there is (was?) all this love for you.

Always praying for you,

Roo.

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

He tilted his head as she replied, not surprised and yet surprised at the same time that her instant reaction was to apologize. It was an arbitrary game they were playing, and yet, she genuinely felt…bad. Or in the very least embarrassed, if her blush was any indication. Could it be that she simply wasn’t used to the act of talking about herself, or being asked about herself? Although—and he was more inclined to believe—it wouldn’t shock him in the slightest if it was rather that she preferred to answer questions about herself than ask them in general. Typically speaking, most people were selfish, and he’d read somewhere that a conversation was simply two people pretending to listen while waiting their turn. Not to mention Morgans were as arrogant and self-centred as they came. Meaning that it was important he take the effort to ensure she felt her ego was being boosted more often than it wasn’t.

“Economics,” he said with a sly smile, knowing the reputation that tended to go along with business majors and never having done anything to push against the stereotype. His entire life he’d known what he’d study in university, perhaps as long as he’d known the word. The only reason he wasn’t going for his MBA now was because his academic pursuits had to be put on the side in order to…well, in order to destroy the Morgans. Shortly thereafter, a scandal would be released, the long lost Nathan Carlisle back from the dead—or, more plainly, that he was never recovered and the police (read: the Morgans) covered up his status as missing to cover up their own incompetence. Once he was reunited with his family, he’d be hired to work within the company until eventually taking over as the CEO. For obvious reasons it wasn’t as if he could tell her this five-year plan. “But I’m doing freelance work right now. I’m not ready to buckle up and settle down to some 9-5 office job.” He laughed lightly, and it was as untrue as it was true. But that could be used to describe any number of the things he’d told her. “Another coffee,” he answered without hesitation. Nate was often in want of something or other, but never for too long. He enjoyed indulging himself at every opportunity, and was far too impatient to ever be able to withhold from partaking. It was why he knew he’d never be able to quit smoking. He just couldn’t see the point, or the need. Even if it ended up being a reason he was dying–probably especially then. The worst would have already happened, right?

It was almost a relief when she asked, even if it did catch him slightly off guard. He’d expected it to come up eventually, because the whole point was ensuring that her family would despise him while she wouldn’t. So while outwardly he appeared to be taken aback by her audacity, he’d already crafted a response long before she even thought she’d have the opportunity to ask. He licked his lips and sighed, looking off to the side with an expression on his face that said while he found it amusing, he couldn’t believe his own behaviour. “I could say the same, you know?” He began, and he found he meant it. The Rose sitting in front of him now, while very much carrying the same traits as the woman he ran into at the precinct, was a different person than the first time they met. “I don’t like cops,” he shrugged, “and they don’t like me. And I tend to not be too…mild-mannered with someone who I know doesn’t like me, and who I know won’t give me the benefit of the doubt. Lots of people…” he began, but then stalled, as if he needed to find the words first, “lots of people have a certain way they act in front of an officer. Because they’re afraid, and I don’t want to live in a world where I’m afraid of the people meant to be protecting me,” 

“Well, now I’m torn between two questions. So I’m cheating, because I was going to ask why you wouldn’t have enjoyed studying Criminal Justice, but I’m conceited enough to be dying to know what your father said about me,” he said, placing his head between both hands, an eager look on his face.

It was only recently that Rose began to think she didn’t want to be a cop and that it just wasn’t right for her but now, in this polite exchange, his ambiguous answer made her want to ask more questions. The answer was most likely purposely vague since in throughout the rest of this conversation he had been fairly candid and forthright about his answers. Still this was a polite conversation and it was probably not in her best interest to dig deeper into what exactly freelance work entailed. Anyone who majored in economics and made it out the other side with a passing GPA and a degree was intelligent. It could have been an incredibly low GPA and Rose would still have some respect for the student. Rose, the mathematics lover, could not wrap her head around economics and she applauded those who could. Of course, she’d have more respect for someone with a 3.7 over a student with a 3.1 or a 2.7 but anyone with a course load of nearly entirely economics and related courses was smart in her book. Though she wasn’t quite such about Nate’s current plan. Why not something more stable? For the sake of just hoping life was going to be more interesting that way? There was nothing terrible about a 9-5 even though people seemed to demonize it. It wasn’t the mark of becoming boring; it was a sign of maturity and growth. Plus plenty of people worked 9-5 jobs and were interesting, they move throughout their lives happy and doing things that are important to them. It’s not all grey. She most likely wouldn’t ever work a “plain” 9-5 job since that’s not the kind of detective she wanted to be but she still felt the need to defend them. “Do you like the freelance work you’re doing?” Maybe that was all that really mattered. “You should get another coffee then.”

“I guess it’s because there’s just not enough to criminal justice for me. Maybe I’m wrong,” she wasn’t “But from the course titled it seemed like a lot of repetitive material. I really feel like I’m knee deep in material and I’m actually enjoying it. If I was buried in criminal justice work–though I doubt I would be because everyone in that major parties like wild– I just feel like I would be bored.  So I’m glad this is the major I was told to go into.” She would have sucked it up if she had been told to be a criminal justice major but the four years would have felt much longer.

Rose bit her lip; unsure that this was a question she should answer. It seemed rude to just tell a stranger a series of rude things that were said about them. It would take some censoring on her part sine her father swore a lot when he was angry and that was more Rose’s fault than anyone else’s. Her father was obviously frustrated that she had convinced him to go back on his word for what he was still convinced was a silly crush. She ran her fingers through her hair quickly, “I don’t really know if I should say…” It was something that Rose didn’t even think applied to Nate so what really was the point? He wasn’t a criminal. “I think it’s good in a sense that you’re not afraid, I guess. Since police officers are trying to protect people, I don’t really think anyone should be afraid of them. But that doesn’t mean you should be so…harsh. Why would they hate you anyway? I mean, it’s not like they’re nice to anyone they’re arresting but they’re nicer to the ones that don’t fight so hard.”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

Honestly, he’d hoped for a bigger reaction, if one at all–it wasn’t like he was saying this simply for himself. Wait. He was. It would be unfair to say that Nate didn’t get a kick out of himself. This wasn’t the first time he’d played the questions game with someone else. Usually he did it to refine his own skills, if not out of sheer boredom. And catching people off guard by asking the one he’d just asked was quite possibly his favourite thing–it showed, at least to him, how much thought people paid to themselves. It could be just as likely, of course, that there was no meaning. But Nate wouldn’t quite be Nate if he took things at simply their face value. He smiled as she spoke about her cat. Mouse, if he’d understood her posts well enough. He had a soft spot in his heart for the animal, and it remained as just about one of the only things in the world that he did have a soft spot for. Her cat was cute–purely objectively, obviously. But he did crack a smile back when he’d first realized her name. Clever. “You know, I’m starting to feel a bit neglected. Here I am, asking you all these clearly thought-provoking questions…and you’ve skipped your turn three times,” not that it really made a difference to him on a personal level, and not that his tone reflected that either. The truth was, most people ended up skipping their turn. Normally, he wouldn’t mind, not really. But it was important they get to know each other..

Individuals who held a hard critic within them often dismissed claims they were carrying something of the sort much in the same way Rose had. Either by dismissing it altogether, or by justifying it, and were likely well-beyond outside help. If Rose was to let go and change, it would have to come from within her. Or he’d have to make her think it came from within her. Each one served him just fine. “What is your field?” He asked, even though it was one of the first things he’d learned about her before taking the time to answer her question. “I didn’t have an easy time growing up. And a lot of people didn’t think I’d ever make it as far as I did. So, yeah. I’d say. But they were motivated out of spite than anything else, really,” 

It was easy to get caught up in the conversation and forget about the questions themselves. Even without the questions, she had already learned a lot about Nate. Her face flushed pink ever so slightly; embarrassed that he might think she was completely self-absorbed. “Shoot, I’m sorry. I kind of got sidetracked. Forgot that was the whole thing.” She was at a loss of what to ask him that wasn’t just throwing his questions back at him but they were pretty basic questions to ask when getting to know someone.

“Okay, so to even it out I’ll answer your question then I’ll ask you four: three because I missed the other questions before and one for this time. I’m a psychology major. Criminal justice majors kind of get overlooked nowadays in the department and I’m kind of glad because I don’t think the classes would have been that interesting to me.” It was part of the reason that she didn’t feel the need to protest the fact that they had told her what she was going to school for. Her parents always had her best interests in mind and she was worried about the principle of it. In the end, it worked out and she loved her major. That was what was important to her. 

“So I’m assuming you went to college since you were talking about school and no one goes that long without sleep over high school coursework. At least I hope so or some of these won’t make sense. What did you major in? Did you end up doing anything with your major or do you work outside of it? What is something you want right now?” she curled in her lips briefly stuck for a fourth question, “And...why did you give my dad such a rough time at the precinct last month? The way he described you during lunch doesn’t seem like the person sitting in front of me right now. If he had told me that without me meeting you I would have imagined someone much different in personality, someone much less….mild-mannered.”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

He tried not to look too much as if her response was endearing rather than silencing. He wasn’t sure he was successful. Even in discussing taking a break, Rose spoke with an edge to her words, a need to defend herself even in lighthearted conversation. Or, more likely, it was just him that caused this reaction. This need to make herself his equal or to protest his establishing of himself as her superior. He appreciated it, really. Not in the way she’d intended, but only because it reminded him to tone it down. She was reading his sheer hatred for her and her family and interpreting it as…probably the arrogance of men, if he had to guess. Which was…annoying. At least for him, if only because it was yet another sign that he’d need to ease her into his personality. “I’m sure it has,” he responded calmly, the slightest twinge of confusion in his eyes, as if it was unclear to him just what he’d said that caused such a response, regardless of how slight it was. “I only meant you can’t answer a question in the game with an answer I’ve fed you. Then I’m just playing with myself…and that’s kind of like…” he looked around, and leaned in before whispering, “masturbation,”

He leaned back and thought of the best way to reply to this without feeding the fire he’d just started, and came to the conclusion that he’d, however unfortunate he found it, would have to be honest with her. And that required a lot of energy from him, certainly a lot more than practiced replies and an all-around airy tone (which was what he usually incorporated) needed on a regular basis. He already knew before he would say it that she wouldn’t take it to heart, but was curious to see if whether or not she’d continue pushing through that door she’d begun to open and unleash how what he was saying really made her feel. “I remember going days without sleeping. It was the worst. Except, if you don’t mind me saying, I think you’ve got a tougher case than I did. The only expectations I had to meet were my own, you know? It’s not like I had any family members who were tugging on my coat, asking to see me or to see my grades.” He sighed and shook his head, moving to take a sip from his cup before remembering that it was empty. “Sounds to me like you’re pretty hard on yourself. But what do I know, right?” 

Rose’s eyes got a little wider, she wasn’t overly alarmed but why take the time to say something like that. To her it was like whenever someone asked her what she wanted for Christmas or her birthday, she had ideas but the moment someone asked her it was like she’d never thought about it at all. She did know that she wanted a friend for Mouse because she was gone a lot of the day but she wasn’t sure two cats in a small apartment was a good idea. She also wanted a cat tree for Mouse since the only thing she was currently climbing was her bed and the clumsy little thing could only make it halfway up before having to use her claws the rest of the way. She was going to need a new duvet when Mouse got bigger. Also some new sweaters. This was different though because it was something she hadn’t prepared for and really hadn’t expected him to ask. “Fine. Something I want in this very moment is to be at home with my cat instead of working on this paper.”

Exhaustion was something Rose could sympathize with but she hardly let herself go without sleep. She always tried to get a few hours at least. Different causes to the same end. “Well, did you have high expectations for yourself?” Rose knew she was sometimes guilty of keeping higher expectations for herself than her family had for her (which was hard since they already expected the world of her) that way she was always in the position to rise above what her family had thought she was capable of (which again, was a lot). “Maybe but it’s only because I want to do well and that I know I can do better. I want to do well and succeed in my field, I didn’t know it going into my major but I’ve found it’s something I’m good at and that I really like.”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

He was listening with interest, but it was hardly because of what she had said. Yes, Rose would most certainly be craving a break, the girl certainly wouldn’t understand what it meant to relax if she had been mandated to–this was not new information for him. But what was revolved entirely around the rest of what she’d said. Sandwiched in-between the two different thoughts she’d expressed, was a key bit of information and Nate would be remiss if he didn’t take note of it. Of course, he’d have to look into just how many other people had the accesses she did, in order for it to be useful, but if it was as he expected it would certainly–quite literally–help his case. He hadn’t protested at his role when the plan was initially born—part because he’d be insane to contradict anything suggested to him by his family, and part because he was excited at the opportunity—but he hadn’t fully understood the importance of his role until just this moment. Field research was critical exactly because of information like this.

“Does it really count if it was my idea though?” He asked, tilting his head and carrying a knowing smile on his face. In a way, he really shouldn’t be going around pointing out things like this. Rose was clearly easily malleable, and twisting her to fit the endgame would be a walk in the park if she carried on the way she had. So calling out her attention to how quick she was to take others’ suggestions and apply them to herself, pointing out just how little autonomy she allowed herself to have, was in a way counterproductive to his efforts. But at the same time, he supposed, it allowed him to delve in on a deeper level. Rose would be unsuspecting of him if he repeatedly emphasized the importance of her making her own choices and decisions. Not to mention, it would also serve his interests if Rose began stepping up and stepping out on her own.

While he was certain her family would believe what the law said regardless of her own pleas, she would need to begin behaving in a way that—to the Morgans—was peculiar, and un-Rose like. Which is to say, behaving as if she wasn’t a doormat to their every whim and need. He’d keep her special place in mind for other reasons, too, as it was beneficial to both encouraging her to be her ‘own’ person and placing her in that location often enough in witnesses’ minds that it would be believable. Truthfully, he’d love to push her to go there now, but something told him it wouldn’t be well-received. Not yet, anyway. “Hm, yeah,” he tsked, genuinely glad that he was no longer in university, “Can’t say I miss being in your place. Why don’t you do that anymore?”

It was hard to answer his question at first, mostly because she didn’t know how to be as civil about it as she thought she should be towards nearly a complete stranger. “You know, it has crossed my mind once or twice to take a break in my life.” Did she come across so uptight that someone would think that taking a break would just slip her mind? Especially after she just explained that she would take breaks on the rooftop. Granted, it wasn’t often. Probably not as often as someone else would like to take a break but she did. “So yeah I guess it was initially your idea in this moment. That’s…. nice for you.” She was at a loss. Did he really want the credit for something that small? It wasn’t that though, was it? More as if he was trying to lessen her answer by inserting himself more into the equation. Now he was the one who made her think about taking a break for herself. 

It was his idea and he called her kid, despite her protests. She had called him out on it before, his attempt at infantilizing her. Clearly he needed to feel powerful, most likely just because he’s a male and needs to be the dominant one in this conversation but was that a good enough reason? Absolutely not. She felt inferior lately as it was. If anything she had to figure out how to be the one to keep up with, turn the tables on him. She wasn’t someone who could just be taken over. More so, she wasn’t going to let herself be. 

“Lack of time.” She said simply. “Between school, work, family obligations, there’s less time to just sit around. Senior year is supposed to be heavy on the coursework so it makes sense. It’s not because I didn’t think to take a break, it’s because I have a lot to do.” It was true and untrue. If she had ever thought to take a break it wasn’t an idea she generally entertained. If she decided to take a “break” it was more likely to let herself relax before class and scroll through facebook rather than reading up on the news. In the last semester she had not thought to take a break on the roof as she had described, it was surprising that the idea came back to her at all. She wouldn’t have even let herself get caught up in promising herself an hour to just rest on the roof for a bit. That was too much.

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

It would be far too simple if he stopped immediately at her request, even if she’d explicitly demanded it multiple times now. But on the same hand, it would mean all the more to her once he finally promised to end her least-favourite nickname. Although, he was a bit disappointed to see she hadn’t already picked up on the fact that Nate made a joke out of just about everything. Perhaps that was to his benefit. Rose was a serious individual, and she probably wouldn’t want to spend too much time with someone who actively took nothing seriously. No matter how watered down it was, it was a part of Nate’s personality he outright refused to cover. It was the one thing that was too difficult to lie about, and he hated the times he did have to pretend as if he was feeling grave about anything. “I can’t always be lovable,” he said, sighing, obviously faking lament. “I told you I have my faults,” 

Her response was subtle, but as plain as day to Nate. She had heard it, and he cursed his carelessness, but decided to look at it from the benefits it had. Sure, she may have caught him nearly feeling something genuine, but she didn’t necessarily know just how out of character it was for him. To Rose, it was simply another piece of Nathaniel Clarke’s tragic puzzle. He could live with that. He would just have to be sure, for his own peace, never to make that same mistake again. 

He watched as she floundered to come to an answer, not surprised in the slightest to hear that she didn’t have one, but somehow strangely disappointed nonetheless. Did she ever think about herself at all? Or was she really this desperate to suffocate her own wants and needs? And if so, to what purpose? To die and have people chat in low tones about what a kind person she was, to end up in some place after this life where she was given her salvation? “Really?” He asked, sounding confused by her choice of response. “Not even…I don’t know, a break, a cookie…that jerk to stop talking to you?” He teased, “Well, just pick one of those. It’s not a test,” he smiled.

It wasn’t? Because it sure felt like one. If she thought about it enough she would be able to come up with some answers. The first being his suggestion of a break. Boy would it be nice to have a break. Even school scheduled breaks like winter term or summer weren’t breaks for Rose because she was busy taking extra classes, assisting her mother with paperwork, acting as an extra set of hands because ‘school is out, so what else are you gong to do?’ She wanted breathing room. Even just a day where she didn’t feel obligated to be in constant contact with her family members. At the same time she wanted to be able to the floodgates of negative thoughts about her family and assimilate fully back into the Morgan family. Sometimes ignorance was bliss. Before Lukas she felt strong in the community that was her family but now she felt insignificant and sometimes used–– but it was for family, that was different right? 

But that’s not how this worked because the moment she fully gave into those desires was the day she would become bitter. She would want to keep her newfound time to herself and quick to anger when anyone asked more of her. She didn’t have time combat that monster so she wasn’t going to let herself give into it. Instead she tucked these desires away in a small box to be taken out sparingly. Every so often she let herself give into one of those desires for a small amount of time. Just enough to keep her from going completely out of her mind but not so much she lost sight of what was important: her family. 

She decided there was no harm in sharing one of these desires, “Alright fine, out of those it’d be a break. I have the keys to the building I work at on campus and like Sophomore year I used to try to find time to go up to the roof of the building and just relax for awhile. I wouldn’t let myself think about school work or everything else I had to get done. It was lovely. Even right now my mind keeps drifting back to the paper I should be writing even though it’s not due for another month…”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

Nate’s parents themselves never explicitly demanded he abstain from swearing. Carol, for her part, did her best to try and raise Nate as a proper citizen. Or in the very least instill values that he would nonetheless reject both during his short time with her as his guardian and in the years following. All she did was teach him the importance of crafting a powerful mask. He’d keep in mind that words of vulgarity made her uncomfortable. Not that he typically cared at the moment for what did and did not make her uncomfortable, but rather, he figured she would appreciate it if he made an effort not to comment on her lack and neither to speak them himself. He found himself fantasizing about situations in which she’d feel the need to, debating inside his head if it was the privilege of a life without much strife that led her to think that way. He nodded as she spoke, carrying an appreciative expression. At least she stuck to her values, right? No matter how ridiculous he himself might have found them. “How do you know I’m not?” He retorted in lighthearted amusement.

Rose may be bored in his adolescent home, but she would certainly fall in line with the values his neighbours shared. 

Nate was winter through his bones and deep within his soul (if he had such a thing to begin with), but would not be surprised to hear that Rose stood directly contrasting him. He was beginning to understand the two of them would be in opposition more often than not, though whether Rose was aware of this herself remained to be seen. Her advice went passed him, as he was never fond of advice in the first place, and certainly not from someone who refused to apply it to themselves–as most people who gave advice did. “Anywhere,” he said, shocked at his own honesty, and feeling something strange tug at him as he reminded himself that it likely wouldn’t be a great possibility when it came time to take over the family business. His parents travelled together frequently, and his father often did for business, but it was never in the way Nate would want to travel himself. He hoped that the change in his tone, this wistful and distant expression was obvious only to his ears. “Would it surprise you much to hear that I wouldn’t? Warm weather is alright, but, I’d pick winter any day.” He let it sit for a moment while he pretended to contemplate his next question, even though he’d already crafted his set before he’d offered the little game they were playing. “What do you want most, right now, in this very second?”

Rose struck him as the type of individual to pay little to know attention to her own desires. If what they were working on was to be fully successful, he’d have to push–without detection–towards a life that was the exact opposite.

Rose tried hard not to roll her eyes, frustrated with his response. Why did he think it was so amusing? Even more, what made him think it was okay for him to keep calling her that even after she had asked him to stop. “Well I hope you’re not because it’d be incredibly frustrating to see you making an even bigger joke out of something I’ve asked you to please stop doing repeatedly.” The emotion in his voice made her sad for him once again. She never wanted to know what it was like to feel the need to escape her home to avoid harsh memories. Anywhere. It sounded so desperate. Maybe not exactly by his tone but it wasn’t anywhere as in ‘anywhere the wind blows me’ or ‘anywhere because I want to travel and see it all’. It was clearly: anywhere else. She smiled when he spoke; glad to hear she wasn’t the only one who loved winter. Rose was summer personified. She was cheerful and bright, warm and friendly, yet as stubborn as a heat wave that won’t break. Still she would choose winter every time. 

It was pathetic how caught off guard Rose was by his question. Mostly because she couldn’t think of anything she wanted aside from to get all her schoolwork done. If she decided to say that, it would come off as her not wanting to talk to him anymore and that wasn’t what she wanted to do at all. Instead she ran her fingers through her hair and then folded her arms over her chest. What did she want? She wanted her sister-in-law’s baby to be a boy, she wanted Anna to pass that test she had coming up, her dad, brothers, uncles, and sister to get home safe tonight (which she prayed for everyday), and she wanted to get all the errands she needed to run for her aunt done quickly so that she could spend some time at home relaxing with Mouse. Immediately she recognized the common theme in each desire, now too annoyed to want to say it aloud. “I don’t know, honestly. I could say any number of things but they’re all intangible so it doesn’t really matter to anyone that isn’t myself.”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

Interesting. Rose had said herself she was stubborn, and he’d had enough evidence to support that both before he met her and now. The fact that this was the one thing she would give up on made him wonder which other of her principles did not apply when it came to her family. He wondered if they’d grant her the same courtesy, though he knew deep down he wouldn’t have to wonder for much longer. Not that he would be telling her, but he had an inkling whatever double standards she carried towards him were not mutual. Harsh, but he was certain it was true. “No,” he replied simply, “it’s…honestly a little cute,” the shy way he said it hopefully masked the mocking way he meant it–sort of the same intent she was convinced he had each time he called her kid (it was, truthfully, only used to annoy her and amuse him). “I think you might be rubbing off on me. Can I ask why not?” He asked, hoping to the God he didn’t believe in that she wouldn’t say something dull like how it was unseemly, or whatever other polite way she’d figure out to indirectly judge the people who do swear. He smirked again, “Maybe I’m just trying to see how many times you’ll remind me,” he mused aloud. 

He raised a single eyebrow as she began, and kept it there momentarily as she stopped herself mid-sentence. Was she already starting to catch on? Faster than he would have given her credit for. Morgans tended to interpret things the way they wanted to, and he’d always thought his type of dead-pan, serious humour would be lost on every one of them. Not that he thought himself particularly funny, just that it was a twisted sort of way to joke that, perhaps, most people did not understand. He weighted answering her honestly. The truth was that, no, Nate did not enjoy it. He did not enjoy being an hour’s drive or so away from his family, and an even further one by transit–which he was almost always taking. He did not like seeing the same people constantly, going to the same places every time, and running through the same motions each and every day. He’d never trade his place now. Nate may prefer being alone, but he certainly wasn’t fond of the loneliness that came with living in a run-down suburb just outside of where all the life was. In a place like that, there was simply no opportunity for distraction. It was like living in purgatory. He had a good feeling her long and detailed answers would stop if his continued down the road they had been–it would only be understandable when it was on a topic like the ones she’d just been asking him. But anything else and she’d likely think him too opaque, “Trust me, there’s nothing worth seeing out there. There’s nothing to do, either. I wish I had more to tell you about it, but there’s only so much I can say. There were two restaurants to pick from, and one small coffee shop. It made headlines when our 10-store mall got a Subway in the food court. I’ve never been happier than since I began living here again.”

“But that doesn’t mean I want to stay here, you know? Not to sound, cliche, but I’d like to go somewhere not filled with so many, uh, bad memories.”

Truthfully, she didn’t have a concrete reason why she didn’t swear. It wasn’t something she just decided one day and she never took the time to really question it. It was just a value that had been instilled in her when she was young and remained to this day. There was his reason, she guessed. She heard it all growing up from her family members: ‘young ladies don’t swear’, ‘God will punish you for having a dirty mouth’, and ‘people who swear are stupid and just cannot think of a better word to use’. Of course the reason lead right back to her family as everything about her seemed to. It was a frustrating path to trace when she was trying so hard to break out of it. “I just never felt the need to. I grew up never being allowed to swear, as I think a lot of kids did, but when everyone else started swearing and just throwing it into their sentences left and right, yelling them at the teachers at school, using it to express their frustrations…I just didn’t. Whatever satisfaction other people get from swearing has no effect on me. It makes me feel uncomfortable more than anything else.” In public you weren’t supposed to swear, in most families children weren’t supposed to swear around adults. However, she always seemed to be the one that was the center of attention for not swearing, whether it was mocking her or curiosity as to why or they just thought it was amusing wasn’t always clear. It never made sense to her, shouldn’t the person who is doing what the greater society deems bad be the one who is getting the negative attention? It frustrated her but she tried her best to stay above it all. Maybe it was because she was always on guard about it but she didn’t believe him when he called it cute. “I’ll save you some trouble: every single time. So unless you’re keeping tallies somewhere you just shouldn’t bother.” 

She smiled, “Well it’s great that you’re happier here. That definitely sounds like a boring way to live. Maybe it’s not boring to some people but gosh, I would be so bored if I were them.” She nodded in understanding, “I don’t know if it’s cliché or not. I don’t know if it matters though either. You have to do what makes sense to you.” In saying that, Rose knew she didn’t practice what she preached. “Where do you think you’ll go? Like somewhere much bigger? Or warmer? I feel like people always want to go to a warmer climate. I never hear of people really begging to go North, you know?” Rose loved summer but she also loved having four seasons. She loved her white Christmases, skiing, and winter fashion. She never wanted to give that up.

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

“Does that mean you’ve never told anyone else how you feel?” He asked, genuinely curious to see if his assumption was right in that he’d become her one and only confidante in the short time that they had known each other. Sometimes even he was surprised at his ability to manipulate and perform. Despite his lack of concern for the emotions other people held, it wasn’t a new thing for the person sitting across from him to suddenly open up their heart and soul. But then again, as a liar, it always benefitted him to ensure the other person spoke more often than he did. Some people were just waiting for someone to come along who would much rather listen than speak themselves, and when it came to conversations about personal things, Nate was an expert deflector of attention and was often prone to subtly avoiding direct answers altogether. “Wait, are we related? Or–Gee, kid, nice to know I’m nothing but a…bunch of baloney to you,” He teased, throwing in a lame joke to lighten up the mood, and figuring it would distract her from the heaviness of the conversation, if not for anything but to correct him that she was, quote, not a kid.

He waited for to finish before cracking an amused smile. “Well clearly I’m sorry for making you feel so uncomfortable. It’s so weird, because, when I mention that at parties, it’s a real hit. I’m talking, the perfect icebreaker. Maybe it’s just not in your sense of humour, right?” Nathaniel was doing his best to make it clear her sympathy made him uncomfortable, while Nate himself couldn’t feel whatever effect her reaction would normally have. It reached him, certainly, but instead of seeping into him it instead washed right over and around. If she was genuinely upset, it was likely only because she was projecting herself into his shoes, as most people often did. And so, it wasn’t as if she were sorry for him, rather, she was grateful she wasn’t him. 

The fact that she’d moved onto changing the topic only furthered his suspicions. Hearing that his entire family was gone was likely one of Rose’s biggest fears, and the last thing she would ever want to do is talk to someone who’s experienced that very same event. “Ju-ust about. I mean, not this central–My foster mom lived just on the outskirts.” 

“Nope.” She answered. “Tried to once but it didn’t really work so I let it be.” Her brother didn’t take it well when she had tried to skirt around the issue when all of her feelings first started. “Are you making fun of the fact that I say bunch of bologna and don’t swear?” She smiled to let him know she wasn’t that bothered by it. It wasn’t uncommon for people to poke fun at the phrases Rose used to avoid swearing or taking the Lord’s name in vain. It was pretty much the only thing that she let people get away with teasing her about. Sometimes she let the height jokes slide but they got old really fast and had decreasing patience for them. Among people’s favorite non-swears were bunch of bologna, son of a monkey, who gives a pile of pebbles, what in the Sam Hill is that, cheese and rice, and piece of potato. Her cousin Anna used Barbara Streisand as a variety of different expletives when angry and frustrated but the origin of that was more than a little lost on Rose. “I was going to ask you if I have to say it again but it’s futile because apparently I do: I’m not a kid. There are children who are taller than me but I’m not really sure you have to rub it in.” She was more than a little bitter. 

“No, that’s not––“ She stopped. She was glad it was so amusing to him but now she was the one who seemed inconsiderate because he was apologizing for making her uncomfortable. It was a frustrating game he seemed to like playing. “Never mind. Anyway, do you like it better on the outskirts or being in the middle of it all? I’ve never been out there so I’m not sure what it’s like. Not that I’ve never left this city but I just never had a reason nor the time to head out that way.” She loved growing up in the middle of the city. There were always things to do, something happening or something interesting to see. She was sure she would never make it in the suburbs. She loved the city too much––she loved this city too much.

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

It was as if she had read his notes on her—not that he’d ever be stupid enough to write them down—and was simply regurgitating the information he already had on her. Rose was beyond simply family-oriented, she was family-obsessed. As was just about everyone else in her family. Nate himself valued his family to an intense degree, but the Carlisles operated in a different manner than the Morgans. Constant interaction simply wasn’t their thing. But when push came to shove, they stood together, stronger than they ever would be on their own. The fact that most of his extended family members (though the number was quite limited; the Carlisles weren’t exactly the ‘more the merrier type’) were aware he hadn’t died along with his brother yet his secret was still kept was testament to that fact. Although, to be fair, it wasn’t as if his father was the forgiving type—even when it came to his own family. Crossing him simply wasn’t, and would never be, an option. Nate had even learned that himself.

Nate gave her a soft smile, but shook his own cup to signify it was empty. Caffeine had ceased to have an affect on him a long time ago, and he really only drank it for the taste rather than anything else, similar in ways to his reaction to alcohol. Lukas seemed to Nate to be rather all-American, or at least carry very American values, which was a bit nauseating for Nate’s tastes. Typical of a psych major to go around diagnosing codependency. Nate wouldn’t make the same mistake of putting himself between her and the Morgans, at least not directly, and certainly not so outright. He’d lose her in an instant. And that simply wasn’t an option. She seemed so dejected by her entire situation—or perhaps that wasn’t the right word. As if she was sitting in front of all her issues and instead of reaching forth and changing them, she was bound to them. She knew this, and Nate could appreciate that knowing what was wrong but being unable to change it was worse than being ignorant to it all together. He didn’t like her ex, even outside of all of this, but he had to hand it to him. He’d done a lot of the ground work that Nate needed for his plan to be successful.

But he hadn’t expected her to say what she’d finished with. His research hadn’t revealed to him that she was in the process of being set-up with someone else. It also meant everything was screwed. Because he had no doubt in his mind that Rose would go for the person her family wants her to be with, whether she wants to be with them or not. “That doesn’t sound like it’s your fault, though,” he said, tilting his head as if he were trying to sort out how she’d reached her conclusions. “Does your—does your family know you feel this way?” He was asking, but he knew full well and good that they weren’t, and that Rose would never mention it, “I think you are. Then again, I just met you. I’d take it with a grain of salt. But maybe you just haven’t had the chance to see that yet,”

This was a question he had practiced until he’d found a reaction that would be appropriate to fit Nate Clarke’s established personality, as he himself would react to this question–since it could be applied to him personally as well, without much change in the phrasing–very differently. He let out a small scoff of a laugh, and it was almost genuine. As if he wanted any part of her ridiculous family. He hoped it would be read as an endearing laugh, of a man who wished he could have some family, and knew he didn’t, but appreciated the offer anyway. He was looking down too. “It’s uh, it’s been about twelve years now. I didn’t just lose my family…I lost everything I’d ever had, over the span of two days.”

“My family wouldn’t care if I felt one way or another. Saying anything that sounds like you don’t trust your family members or that you don’t want their opinion on something is a huge insult. My sister who is in the FBI kind of serves as the example of that one unfortunately. What’s worse is that until about a year ago I was pretty awful to her about it. So I’ll never say anything but that’s on me. I just don’t have anything else outside of my family really so I can’t afford to do anything that’s going to upset them.” It felt as if she was going against them even just voicing her opinions about how suffocating it could be to be in her family sometimes. There was no one else in the world she loved more than her family but it was so much pressure and sometimes she wasn’t sure if she could take it. Of course, she didn’t have much of an option because without her family, who was she? She had already come to the conclusion that she wasn’t a person outside of her family but if they were to pull away from her today who would she be tomorrow? “I appreciate you saying that though, it’s nice of you to say regardless.” She didn’t believe it one bit and he was right, he had just met her so he didn’t know much. 

“I’m sorry Nate.” She stopped and tripped over her words for a moment, “I mean, I know you don’t like when people apologize… so now I’m sorry for apologizing but only because you don’t like it. I’m still actually sorry.” Rose had no idea what it meant to lose everything and she knew that. She never want to find out. As it was so abundantly clear to her (and most likely everyone else in her life), everything meant her family. To her, family was everything despite the feelings of current disillusionment. Rose knew for a fact that she would rather be dead than lose her family. Maybe it was an easy decision to make because it was something she wasn’t facing and would never have to face but in her heart, she knew that without her family that she wouldn’t be able to go on. She was nothing without them. 

Nate couldn’t have been that much older than she was. He seemed older than her but maybe he was just mature. She put him somewhere between 24 and 26. Meaning he lost his family between ages 12 to 14. That must’ve been devastating for it to happen so young, she didn’t want to spend a moment trying to put herself in his shoes. She already knew that would hurt her too much to imagine. She tried to divert the conversation to something a little lighter while still having it connect, not wanting to seem as if she’s trying to escape the conversation. “So have you always lived in this city then or was it after everything had happened that you came here?”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

It was always satisfying when he hit the mark on a person. It almost made all the drivel he’d spewed worth it, even if he’d find the words revolting if said to him by anybody else. It painted him as too weak, too vulnerable, which while it was exactly the type of person he needed Rose to believe he was it didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. But another thought appeared, one unwarranted, noting the similarities in her tone of voice between her conversation with her father and the words she was saying now. He’d rip off his own skin if he ever caught himself doing something that made him anything like Thomas Morgan, the worst of the bunch. Sometimes his perceptiveness worked against him, but he was fairly skilled by this point at shoving aside thoughts and this was placed along with all the other pangs he felt that he couldn’t–or didn’t want to–name. There was something strange about the way she looked at him, and paired with the way she spoke, and the things she said, it was a feeling Nate had quite possibly never felt. Or, more probably, hadn’t felt in a long while.

In any case, it was how he had suspected. However, it only represented his own thoughts on the matter to an extent. To him, all Morgans were the same, and all Morgans were content with that description. Sure, he’d had sneaking thoughts that Rose was adamant on separating herself from the herd, but not in the way that she’d phrased it—and he certainly hadn’t expected her to lay down her guard so quickly and admit to feelings she’s likely never admitted to anyone else before. This comes from her own presentation, and Nate’s belief that Rose had no one especially close to her outside of her family, and certainly her family wouldn’t be able to comfort her on feelings that went directly against them. Faster than he’d imagined he’d be able to, Nate had become a confidant, and the thoughts she was expressing only furthered her status as the perfect target. So why, then, was there this other feeling? This…heaviness? Ah. Of course–emotions always tended to make him uncomfortable. It was likely because he rejected vulnerability, and therefore felt strange at her openness. That was clearly the reason.

A Morgan jealous of a Carlisle. This was certainly one for the books. 

He softened his expression before replying, having practiced the perfect balance of sympathetic without looking pitying. He could already tell Rose would not be pitied, because neither would he, and that was one parallel he would gladly address. “Believe me, Roo, I have plenty of traits you wouldn’t dream of being jealous of,” and he sighed, slightly shaking his head, “nobody has themselves figured out. I’m sure all I’ve got is ten percent of the whole picture. You are Rose Morgan. Not Morgan Rose. It’s a…journey, as annoying as that is. We’re still young. We’ve still got a whole lot left to figure it out,” he opened his mouth, looking almost serious, but shut it briefly before sending out another smile, “I can’t say I know what it’s like to have a family who influences you so strongly…I mean, I’ve…I’ve been the only Clarke around for a long time now. So I’ve got a head start on you,” he caught her eye as she looked back at him and took a breath, “What happened a year and a half ago? If you don’t mind me asking…” and then he snapped his fingers, “How about a question for a question? You share, I share, no one leaves feeling like they shared too much?”  

“I’ll even buy you another coffee,”

It was a cheesy answer, one that she expected if she had ever decided to tell anyone–at least anyone that wasn’t a Morgan. He was right, it was an annoying answer but he wasn’t wrong. It was just frustrating that all of this was a process that Rose seemed to be just beginning and everyone else at least had a steady foothold in. 

Rose considered it for a moment. After all, what was the harm? She was far ahead enough in her work that stopping to talk wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. He was a good conversationalist so why not? Why not just let it happen for once? This was a chance meeting and she was confident that this was God pushing her into something good. Maybe she wouldn’t ever see him again or maybe they’d hang out a few more times before it faded out but it seemed too much of a coincidence to let this just pass her by.

“Okay, well okay to the questions thing. Don’t worry about the coffee, I’m barely halfway through this one.” She looked down at her cup and back up to him. Even if it had been gone, she probably shouldn’t let herself have that much coffee anyway. Rose sighed a little, “So a year and a half ago was the end of my last relationship with a guy that things moved way too fast with when I look back. At the time it all seemed to make sense and I got swept up in all of the feelings of it. He had a really big problem with my family though. The fact that my whole family was so close, that everyone in my family always knew what was happening with the other family members. I had never thought about it, it was what I grew up with. So things kept getting worse the last probably three weeks of the relationship. Like really bad.” She bit her lip, staring down at the table as she spoke. “And one night my brother stopped by, unannounced, and Lukas flipped out. He said that he couldn’t take how close I was with my family…hated how I couldn’t see how poorly my family treated me–– especially my father….and that if I ever decided to be my own person outside of my family then I should find him.”  

“I just hadn’t ever thought about it but I realized that I wasn’t much of a person outside of my family. My best friends are my brother and my cousins, I get lunch with at least my dad and sometimes my uncles every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Plus I eat dinner with them at least twice a week we all get together. The sports I played in high school were because my dad wanted me to and my major was my father’s idea too. My boyfriend is high school was a family friend that my mother had pushed me into dating. I loved him, I did. He was great. It’s the same way now. This guy my brother keeps pushing me to go out with is someone from the precinct that my father, uncles, and brothers have all vetted. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I wasn’t much of a person outside of my family.” 

Rose still wouldn’t look up, “How long have you been the only Clarke? You don’t have to go into details or anything. You can have some of my family. There’s a million Morgans We can spare a few.”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

It was like he knew her answer before she’d even come to the conclusion herself. Actually, it was exactly that. Although, she raised a point herself. It wasn’t the answer he was looking for. If anything, it was far too vague, far too simplistic, and far too…boring for him to have any further interest in her other than his end goal. Which was, ultimately, a good thing. He would have preferred any other answer, though however hypocritical it was of him, he would have liked an honest one. Though, it was perfectly plausible that to her, it was an honest answer. That Morgans thought themselves to be pure, and without fault, didn’t come as a surprise. “And that’s what makes you Rose?” He asked.

But having a Morgan ask a Carlisle what kind of person they were, without already making their own assumptions, was certainly a delectable treat. His only disappointment was that she wasn’t even aware just who it was she was asking. Nate, by her family’s definition (and, as Rose was nothing more than an extension of them, hers as well), he was a monster. He had hurt others for his own gain. He had lied, stolen, cheated, manipulated and participated in various other nefarious acts all in his family’s name, and then some in simply his own interests. Hell, he was even doing some of those now. Nate, by any ‘decent’ person’s definition was irredeemable. It was a good thing he had no desire to be redeemed. Truly, he liked himself. He was capable. Smart. Clever, resourceful, and quick-thinking. He always won. He was grey all over, and he much preferred life that way. It was easier than spending his time trying to white-out the black in his soul, like he was certain Rose did to herself and was attempting to do with him. 

 “I’d have said unoriginal,” he teased, snapping out of his reverie to answer. He wouldn’t be honest. That was obvious. But he wouldn’t necessarily lie, either, and he would definitely use his own response as a way to explain to her just what sort of answer he’d been hoping to hear. “I am…flawed,” he shrugged, “but I’m living. Not just existing. I’ve got a thick skin…” and this was where he would switch, this was enough about the real him that she needed to know, “and hard-work is important to me. I can’t stand liars, which makes me a hypocrite, since everybody lies. And, y’know,” he shrugged again, this time looking as if he was obviously feeling awkward, as if truly talking about his own positives made him feel arrogant, “I’ve got my hopes and dreams. I’m uh, I’m afraid of spiders,” he gave a sheepish laugh, and then shot forward, as if this was one point he’d like to drive home, but stalled just before he began, looking as though this was something he felt too self-aware to admit, “I-I’m the type of guy you call when you’re in a tough place, because you know I’ll be there before the conversations over,” he brought a hand behind his head to shake his hair, an expression on his face as if he’d prefer to discuss any other topic than himself. To bring it home, he brushed away any discomfort and noticeably masked himself. “Actually, scratch everything else. That’s the type of person I am,” 

Was a single word of it true? Absolutely not. 

Nate wouldn’t lift a finger to help anyone if it didn’t benefit him in some way, but he felt that most people operated the same way–he was just more honest about it. He admired liars, as much as he could admire anyone brave enough to think they could tell a lie to a professional, life-long liar. Hard-work was inconsequential. He worked hard when he needed to, and when he found an opportunity to manipulate the situation he was in to make it easier for him, he most certainly would. Why take the more difficult route unnecessarily when a simpler one was right at your fingertips, if you were clever enough to take advantage of it? Did he have hopes and dreams? He hoped she’d buy it and he dreamed of a world where the Morgans got what they deserved. Nothing else. But, hell. He wasn’t even afraid of spiders. 

Was that what made her Rose? Honestly, she didn’t know where to begin. What made Rose, Rose? Her first instinct was to say being a Morgan made Rose who she was. Her whole life centered on her family and all her life she was conditioned to put her family before everyone one else, including herself. Being family-oriented wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, she loved her family dearly and the fact that she could always count on them to be there for her. She loved that she had a tight-knit group of people she could rely on. Was there anything else that made Rose who she was as a separate person outside of her family members? She grew up being taught there was nothing more important than being a Morgan. If she went purely based off of that then there was nothing to separate her from her brothers or her cousins. Rose was nothing. Just like her father said when she was young ‘you are important because you are a Morgan’. Rose was only a Morgan.

The thought didn’t sit right with her but lately, trying to figure out who she was independent from her family seemed futile. Everything came back to being a Morgan, frustratingly so. She wanted to answer with a simple yes but since he had been so candid with her, she owed him that much to do the same. He seemed like such a stand-up guy and so sweet. She smiled softly as he spoke; glad she had taken the time and effort to speak to her father about letting him go last month. She found herself hoping he’d ask to see her again or for her number or something. Her mind drifted to Evan, a cop that her brother was trying so hard to set her up with (she was still unsure) but having Nate as her friend was just as good sounding to her.

Rose pulled her hair to one side before she started speaking again, less confidently than before. “Quite honestly, I’m jealous that you have such a strong sense of self. You know who you are and it’s clear you’re a great guy. I don’t know what makes me Rose. My entire life I’ve been Rose Morgan, emphasis on the Morgan. I never questioned it. It just hadn’t occurred to me that there might be more to me than who my family is as a whole. Not until a year and a half ago or so. Since then it’s been pretty useless because I’ve found that everything that makes me who I am is my family. It hurts a little but it is what it is.” The last sentence was quieter than all the rest. It hurt her so much and she wasn’t ready to just accept it. He didn’t need to know how much it destroyed her, how dependent and child-like she felt whenever she thought about it. She was just another Morgan, easily swapped out for another cousin if she couldn’t make a photo-op. Rose took a breath and looked back up at him, “But it really is great that you know you who are. I admire that.”

[morgan-rose]

bee1x1:

Speaking of games, it was quite fun for him that she hadn’t caught onto the game he’d been playing the entire time. Not that he wanted her to, as that would take the fun out of it–but he was endlessly entertained by the way she reacted when she was caught off guard by his words. It was safe to say he wasn’t planning on stopping it anytime soon, so the longer she believed he wasn’t interpreting her words in a purposeful way, the better it would be for him.

But she carried another discomfort, and though it was passing, he had a good enough feeling about what it was. Was she beginning to understand he was a so-called orphan? This subtle sympathy tug worked on almost anyone who wasn’t one themselves. Nobody was heartless enough not to feel the slightest pang of empathy for an individual who was fundamentally alone in the world, at least when it came to blood relations. For all intents and purposes, Nathaniel was an orphan. In many ways, it could be said that Nathan was one himself. “That’s maybe the third time you’ve said that. So what kind of person are you, Rose?” 

Nate had lost count of how many women he’d slept with and he preferred it that way. He had a fleeting dalliance with just one woman: Lucy. The same girl he’d shared his first kiss with. His mother had assured it ended as swiftly as it began. For the time being, he couldn’t afford to have any attachments. Nate was fundamentally incapable of forming longterm attachments, in any case, and intimacy and all it entails was something he’d never desire.  And, ultimately, though he’d rather not, he’d marry someone who was beneficial to the business. He’d like to put that off for as long as possible, unless he married someone with the same views towards monogamy as him. That is to say: non monogamous at all. 

“It’s settled then. Good to know we’re both decent people,” 

The question caught her a little off guard. How was she to respond to such a question? She was a good person. She was a decent person, as he has said. There wasn’t a point in her life that she ever thought she was anything other than a good person. She worked hard to live a moral and helped others to keep their lives on track as well. She was on a path to a career in law enforcement and nearly everything she did was motivated by that end goal. Whether it was her desired end goal or not was irrelevant because she had worked to hard to be anything else. Rose was raised with every decision that was made for her by her parents with the question would this benefit her in the long run to be a detective? That’s why it was track and cross-country over volleyball or playing violin. It was AP classes that boosted her to a better college and extra-curricular activities that strengthened her community ties as a Morgan. Everything in her life was motivated to that end goal of law enforcement. While the career itself didn’t make anyone a saint, she also knew that it was the selfless protector-types that applied. They were good people. “I am a good person. I have a strong sense of right and wrong as well as values that look to benefit my family and community I live in. I don’t know what kind of answer you’re looking for or if I’ve answered it fully but I think I’m a good person.” 

She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at him, “Well then maybe it’s a little redundant to ask but since you’ve done the same of me… what kind of person are you, Nate Clarke?”