#alicerea

[morganmaywright-blog]

@alicerea

“I was hoping you’d be here after work, still.” Morgan tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter as he entered his apartment, passing by the stack of boxes signifying he hadn’t quite unpacked yet. Fingers shifted for the zipper of his jacket, working it down so he could peel it off of his frame and dispose of it over the back of the couch. “How are you feeling?”

[morganmaywright-blog]

Outbound: Alice.

Morgan: Tell me you're alright.

Morgan: And that your phone didn't get launched or broken.

[morganmaywright-blog]

“I’m not afraid to face a little danger.”

“I never really considered myself to be all that dangerous.”

That’s a lie.

There were specific aspects of himself that he considered to be dangerous – namely those he had no explanation for, no way of making it sound remotely human if he were to be caught. But he was forward. Well, he was forward when it made sense to be, when he was sure he was reading people the proper way. It was difficult to say exactly how she was going to respond, especially considering the levels of sass she was apparently capable of. If anything it made her more intriguing, if only just that for now.

So he was forward. Forward and harmless.

So he had teased and lured her in with the promise of business from her pamphlet, and even if she shirked it off and said no well … he would respect that. But when he was here, inches from her face and so aware that he could smell whatever lip balm she applied, he felt at least a little ballsy. Brave wasn’t the word for it. Morgan lingered, large frame taking up the entire doorway to his cavernous apartment, staring at the brunette with skeptical blue eyes softened only by the expression that plastered itself across her face. At the very least she hadn’t expected this.

“Come in.”