-- BITTER APOLOGIES [Morgan]

[asher]

Sometimes I wish I could save you
And there're so many things that I want you to know
I won't give up till it's over
If it takes you forever I want you to know

Asher emitted a slight grunt as he walked across the grounds of the academy; his ankle was still fighting to heal after its encounter with a falling desk, and it was driving the boy crazy. He wanted to go for a run and clear his mind, to enjoy the warm Friday afternoon, but that was not happening today. Instead, he had to baby the injury with a dramatic limp. The nurse said that it wouldn't be too long before it was fully functional again, so all he had to do now was wait. Unfortunately Asher was not the most patient of beings when it came to healing--he wanted to go and do his own thing without a hindrance. Teeth ground against teeth as he stepped down on a slight slope, the change in terrain sending a wave of shocking pain through his ankle. Damn, worse than I thought it was going to be. The brunette lifted a hand and brushed over the slowly shrinking lump on the back of his head, flinching a bit as he touched the still tender skin. It had only been about a week, maybe a little more since the incident so he did not expect it to be gone.

The incident was a little more than just an injured ankle and a tenderized scalp, complements of a desk and a rock; he officially met Morgan that fateful day, and saved her from the crushing blows of falling classroom furniture. Sure he didn't come out unscathed, but it was worth helping her. Asher was still quite unsure why Morgan was so aggressive, but it was nothing to dwell on, right? At least she offered him something to stop the bleeding, which he still had yet to give back to her. He was waiting for Molly to help him get the stains out before doing so. It'll give me an excuse to see her again, maybe. He remembered her harsh words, and made a silent promise to avoid her as best he could. There was still something about that girl that drew Asher in, though, and he could not quite pinpoint why. Was it because she was so aggressive? Maybe he thought he could help, or get her to open up to him. Who knew. It obviously did not do any good in the classroom, and probably wouldn't do much good now.

Once he was out of sight from several of the students lurking around on the grounds enjoying their afternoons reading, studying or hanging out, Asher slowed his walk and glanced around. The grass was thinner here, and the ground was not too soft. "Perfect," Asher commented with a smile as he took off his shirt and abandoned it on the ground before putting himself into a full body stretch. If he could not run, then might as well get in a little bit of yoga. The stretching art was good for the body as well as the mind, and that was exactly what he needed right then. After limbering up, Asher got into his routine and exhaled, trying to clear his mind of everything from the past couple of weeks. All he could see, feel, or hear was the beautiful grounds, the soil beneath his feet, and the soft murmur of his own steady breathing. He had to get all of the clutter out of his head. Mid-pose, Asher's mind began to drift into a state of nothingness; halfway there, however, Morgan's face popped up, causing him to lose balance and nearly face plant in the dirt. He caught himself, but abandoned the pose and took to sitting down and meditating for a while. Damn, she doesn't even have to be here and I'm distracted.

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

Achievement was a funny thing. What was triumph for one person, was but rudimentary for another. Morgan leaned her cheek on her hand, staring out the window as the teacher droned on about something or another. This particular teacher had learned to stop expecting Morgan’s undivided attention. Morgan would be eighteen in a number of month, and was currently attending her third consecutive year of the tenth grade. The others her age were graduating this year – going to college and starting up tornados. She was still just trying to control her ability at will, and direct it. Her mouth tasted sour and her eyes narrowed. The day outside was bright. Various students lounged on the grass in laughing groups. Most of her fellow sophomores would act similarly when the bell rang. They would file out, shoving teasingly, relieved of their classes. And there would be that ever-present room given to Morgan – the Safety Zone. She didn’t desire their friendship. At times she even found amusement in their fear of her. But today, she couldn’t manage to find amusement in anything. She had woken up that morning and rummaged through her drawers in search of her favorite sweater. It had taken her thirty minutes of frustrated searching and the basic destruction of her orderly room for her to remember where this particular article of clothing was.

Morgan frowned. The last time she had seen her sweater, it was as she tossed it to the boy. It would be blood-stained by now, crumpled and maybe torn, but utterly ruined none the less. Morgan pushed the thought away. Her gaze wandered the grass, alighting on each figure for only a moment before moving on. There was a Fire, chatting amiably with a Thunder. A couple of Earth girls giggled and pointed as a Water boy who apparently was so overwhelmed by his clothing that he found it necessary to discard his shirt. Morgan’s gaze landed on the final figure, one who was wobbling on one foot. She knew the figure, the shape of his shoulders and straightness of his back, before he turned to face her. He was hobbling slightly, a grimace of pain occasionally betraying the injury he had sustained to his foot. She watched him stretch his hands above his head, touch his toes, and do various other strange movements. He looked like he was dancing in place – but not elegant dancing. He looked like a failure of a ballerina, or a cross between interpretive dancing and washing a car.

She smirked, watching him. She hadn’t exactly been avoiding him in the past few days. She had insisted she was simply going about her normal daily routine, but through the week she had found herself in various places she didn’t usually make a habit of visiting – the Library, the Mess Hall, even the Medical Wing. She insisted she had no intention of speaking to him again, but she couldn’t help but search the room rapidly each time she entered, waiting for a glimpse of him – a “chance” meeting. Of course, she would never actually admit any of this. She wasn’t even sure what drove the desire to see him. Perhaps she wanted a confrontation, or her sweater back, or maybe it was guilt. Seeing him hobble only reaffirmed the possibility of guilt. The bell rang, but it seemed more like background noise. She turned, startled, from the window and gathered her things robotically. She held her books to her chest, lost in thought. She followed the other students in a line, chewing her lip as she emerged into the sunshine and paused. He was no more than a few hundred yards away. He would see her, if he looked the right way. She could just keep walking. But there was the chance that he wouldn’t see her which was almost worse. She folded her lips into a hard line. This was ridiculous, that much was true. With resolve in her step, she marched up to the yoga boy, books held tightly to her chest. “I hope you intend to return my sweater.”


TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 682
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

Sometimes I wish I could save you
And there're so many things that I want you to know
I won't give up till it's over
If it takes you forever I want you to know

There was an air of peace lingering on the grounds that day; although one could hear the chatter and laughter of the other students, there was calm and a silence that lingered amid the cheerfulness when it ebbed away. It was a silence that was comfortable and lacked the stale, unwelcome feeling one gets when in the middle of an argument or in the presence of someone you did not like. A smile graced Asher's features as he absorbed the silence when it came, completely content with where he was at in that very moment. A few more giggles sounded from nearby, Asher breaking his focus to glance over in their general direction. There up on the slope were a few Earth students waving and chuckling between one another like they had never seen a half naked guy before. It was amusing. Asher passed a humored huff through his nose before waving at them and turning his head to its original position, closing his eyes. Today is actually pretty good considering. A small jolt of pain surged from his ankle and up his leg; the position Asher sat in was not conducive to proper care of an injured ankle, but he did not care. It had to be better than running, right?

Just as Asher was about to return to a state of peace, a voice disrupted his slowly fading thoughts. A voice so familiar that it completely dashed any hope of focusing on his yoga for the remainder of the day. No matter how frustrated he wanted to be, that was not even possible. Breaking into a bit of a smile, he looked up to see Morgan standing there with a book pressed tightly to her chest. I wonder why she does that. He guessed it was a defense mechanism of sorts; like a way of protecting one's self, or to tell someone you aren't approachable. Morgan definitely did a good job, because even Asher was a little hesitant to say anything at first. He knew that would only piss her off, so instead he fought to stand up, nearly falling over in the process. "Of course I do. I don't think it would really look good on me anyway," Asher joked, wondering if there was some way she could take that as some sort of threat. He wanted to be himself, but he found that to be difficult. Twitching a little to control the surge of pain, Asher leaned on his other leg to take the pressure off of his ankle. "My mom was helping me get the blood out. It's hanging up to dry as we speak." His eyes searched her face for a moment. "I'll...give it to you when I see you next?" Asher lifted an eyebrow, smiling a little sheepishly in attempts to suggest he wanted to meet up again. Sure their first meeting was quite painful, but hey...it was just physical pain. Nothing he couldn't overcome.

Placing a hand on each hip, the boy closed his eyes for a moment and pushed out a breath of air, looking a little tired; because of his injury, it seemed that he was losing his energy faster than usual. Stamina was something he had, so when it was lost Asher had a hard time coping with it. After a moment composing himself, he finally relented and sat back down, leaving his hurt ankle lying flat on the ground while the other was tucked neatly beneath him. "Having a decent day?" Asher asked genuinely, tilting his head. "I'm uh...just clearing my mind. Relaxing. I don't know if you've tried yoga but it's good stress relief." After a moment or two of looking at her, Asher realized that their last encounter did not involve an exchanging of names. He knew hers--the boy was pretty decent at memorizing faces and names--but when she dubbed him Angus he had a feeling it was her way of saying she couldn't remember his name. Not that she wanted to after how angry she was at me. "Oh, my name is Asher by the way. You can call me Angus if you want but, figured I'd at least offer you an alternative." His smile was soft as he glanced up into the sky, leaning back on his hands. "Feel free to join me. No obligations of course." I just hope she doesn't have a rock.

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

He wasn’t really as funny as he thought he was, or as he was trying to be. Morgan didn’t even crack a smile. She just held her books to her chest, holding this boy’s gaze evenly. Her muscles were tensed, though she tried to keep herself looking somewhat loose and calm. But this guy made her nervous, perhaps because of his insistent kindness, or maybe just his strength and level of control. Whatever it was, Morgan found she couldn’t stay still. She fidgeted as he struggled to his feet. Another might have offered assistance – a hand or a shoulder, even if it would have been refused. Morgan just stood back and watched. She wasn’t really the thoughtful type. His ankle hasn’t healed. She felt a twinge of guilt at the observation. He wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place if she hadn’t let herself get so out of control. On the other hand, he would have been equally unscathed if he had just left her alone. She shouldn’t have approached him. She was being a hypocrite just standing within twenty feet of him. She had expressly told him never to come near her again, but here she was walking right up and speaking to him. God she was sending mixed messages. She didn’t really care about whether she was fucking with him, or confusing him, it was more that she was berating herself for breaking her number one rule. She prided herself on staying aloof, more than that, on driving people away exceptionally well. She consoled the loneliness this brought on with the self-assurance that as soon as she was in complete control – never to be a danger again – she could have as many friends as she wanted. She steadfastly ignored the voice in her mind that asked whether she’d even remember how to make friends, to be the little girl she had been.

Attention was a wavering thing. Morgan pulled herself from her thoughts in time to hear the boy propose a tentative future meeting. Her eyebrows raised in surprise. Did this guy have a death wish or something? He was still walking with a limp from their last meeting, and she had made it perfectly clear that she had no interest in establishing a friendship. He couldn’t honestly be that oblivious. “Are you mentally disabled or something, because you really aren’t getting this picture. I don’t like you as a person. I just want my things back.” She smirked slightly. Outright aggression, outright hostility hadn’t worked on him. But there were more methods to bitchiness than just one. It was an art and Morgan was well versed. She raised a hand, running it through her head and pushing it back from her face. “You can leave it outside my dorm, or in my mailbox, if you want. I don’t have any particular desire to see your face more than necessary.” His features were so sheepish, a single eyebrow raised. It was kind of cute, in a puppy sort of way. But whereas most puppies raised fond memories in Morgan’s mind, this one just made her want to run it over with a car – preferably a hummer or something big and tool-ish. Her lips still twitched into a small smile. It was amusing, endearing really. But more than that, he was intriguing. Most guys – most people – didn’t want a first serving of Morgan. This guy had not only tasted a first and stayed for the meal, but was now back for a second, and suggesting a third. This guy was a glutton. It was enticing, far too enticing.

The textbook thumped onto the grass. It was slightly warm, dry. Morgan sat herself down, a fair distance from the boy. She didn’t want to be all that close to him. She tilted her head back, letting the warmth patter out over her face. She didn’t say anything as he introduced himself as Asher, but she smirked again. “Fitting, as you’re about as appetizing as pouring a pile of cigarette ash down my throat.” She pondered for a moment whether she would answer his previous question. She had declared her intent just by sitting down, but a seat didn’t mean anything – did it? She wasn’t being nice to him. It was all for the purpose of driving him away, or so she told herself. “I spent the last three hours in classes with fifteen year olds giggling behind their hands and pointing at considerably ugly boys.” She cracked open an eyelid, giving him a skeptical ‘how do you think my day has been’ glance. “Just peachy.”

TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 771
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

Sometimes I wish I could save you
And there're so many things that I want you to know
I won't give up till it's over
If it takes you forever I want you to know

Asher had met quite a few aggressive people during his time at the hollow--most of them were the raging fires or vindictive thunders--but never had he met someone who laced their words with such dark poison. It made him flinch inwardly; Morgan seemed to enjoy watching people squirm beneath her glare and harsh words, so he refrained from giving her any sort of outward response. He felt vulnerable now, having his injured ankle out in the open for her to use against him. Subconsciously the ankle twitched at the thought. He tried to come up with something to say that would not upset her or make her leave; strange, how mean she was to him and yet he wanted her company. Maybe I am mentally disabled. Asher emitted a laugh in his head, and kept it to himself. He sighed and shrugged, keeping a smile on his face and acting unfazed. "And I'll give it back to you once it's done drying. Wanted to make sure it didn't get messed up. It's the least I can do for letting me use it." No matter what angle Asher played at, Morgan took it, crumpled it up, chewed on it, and spit it out. Maybe I should just stop trying. I've never even tried this hard before, so why start now? Obviously I can't even make a friend out of her.

"Well, I'm gonna need your dorm room number, or a mailbox number. I'm decently smart but not a mind reader or a stalker." He continued to smile, half hopig that Morgan would just meet up with him again; it was odd that she was willing to give him a way to find her in the dorms when she was so damned adamant about not seeing him more than necessary. After a second, Asher glanced over the grass before looking at Morgan again. "Actually guys aren't allowed in the girls dorms so...mailbox might be better just in case." He did not know the specific details in regards to the dorms being as he lived at home with Molly and Adam, but was not willing to take any chances. The last thing he wanted was some sort of uproar at the school over the return of a sweater. Who knows, maybe that's what she wants. For some reason I've become her scape goat. The more he thought about it, the more Asher realized that Morgan might be taking some other problem out on him. Was that possible? Maybe she really wasn't the bitch she tried to make herself out to be? Stop it Rizzo. You're just giving yourself a reason to stick around her. Just stop.

Glancing down at his ankle, Asher felt small. He never tried to get everything he wanted, and more importantly knew he couldn't. Asher was confident, and knew he was good at fixing cars and decent in his studies and knew that at least one girl in this world found him attractive, but did not place himself on a pedestal. He thought he was rather humble. A thump from nearby startled him from his thoughts, looked up to see Morgan sitting on the slope. Asher's lips twitched into a small smile, holding it in place even as she viciously insulted him. His heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach and somewhere in the recesses of his mind part of his pride withered away. That's what she wants, apparently. Though the pride was struggling to stay afloat, he was still a stubborn fool. Asher refused to admit that Morgan's vendetta to tear him apart had to do with who he was or the way he looked. That simply made no sense. "Well, you can close your eyes then. Or just cloud watch. I don't expect you to look at hideous old me."

Asher allowed a bit of a chuckle to pass his lips despite the fact that he insulted himself. He wanted to complement her and say something along the lines of 'well, i think you're as appetizing as a slice of apple pie. one of my favorites.' but heavily refrained from saying it aloud. Whatever it was that ate away at this girls' insides was spewing from her mouth in massive waves of anger and hate, and did not need to offer another reason for her to say more. It did bother him, though, that she actually sat down. If she couldn't stand him, then why be here? All she had to do was give him a mailbox number and be done with it. Guess she wants to see what else she can attack me with. Only source of entertainment. Asher wanted to be bitter, but held it back and listened to her talk. It surprised him that she responded, but kept himself neutral. He smiled at her softly and tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "I'm sorry. Maybe tomorrow will be better? You never know. I can at least give you your sweater back soon so...something to look forward to I suppose." He swallowed the lump forming in the back of his throat; he wanted to walk away and leave her sitting there. The conversation was bound to go nowhere. Just insults and hatred. That requires walking. I'll just wait until she gets bored and leaves...

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

Asher made Morgan question her rules of life, and it irritated the hell out of her. Morgan had lived, for the past four years, with three basic rules to her life. Firstly, solitude was safety. She knew better than anyone the consequences of losing control, something that happened to Morgan more frequently than she would have liked. She wasn’t a human; she always had to remember that. If she got pissed, she wasn’t going to punch someone in the face and be done with it (though she couldn’t promise anything about throwing rocks or whatever happened to be handy). She wouldn’t be nearly as threatening as a human. For God’s sake, she was only five feet five inches tall and a freakin’ twig. As a human, she was more like a teddy bear than a grizzly. But as an elemental, well she was far more threatening. This brought her to rule number two. No relationships until she had control. If she was alone, well of course she couldn’t hurt anyone. And if she had no friends, no romantic relationships, hell not even any enemies (though she had a good number of those), well she would always be alone. Rule number two was more like a helper to rule number one though. And finally there was rule three – he who touched her ass would get his balls kicked. Morgan pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her kneecaps and glancing at Asher thoughtfully. He had broken rule one, or at least forced her to break it, and was well on his way to breaking rule two. As for rule three, well she doubted he could be that stupid. He wasn’t a bright guy, but even a guy with a death wish doesn’t risk his ‘best friend’.

But it was more than the fact that he seemed determined to force her to break her rules, it was her original point – that he made her question them. She had lived steadfastly by them for the past four years. To change them, to realize that maybe she hadn’t had to live by them, well that was too much for Morgan to even consider. But she was considering it all the same. She was uncomfortable around him yes, mostly because she wasn’t used to socializing. She was aggressive, and defensive naturally. She was sarcastic naturally. But even the insults she now threw at him were half-hearted. She couldn’t find the same rage, the same hatred, that had been so easy before. Maybe it was his insistent kindness, the lame jokes, the smile. She didn’t know. Whatever it was though, it was screwing with her. That was what pissed her off, not Asher. It was that the more he pressed, the more she wanted to give in. “Why won’t you let me drive you away?” Her speech was sudden. In truth she had been so lost in her own thought, all of Asher’s previous words had gone over her head. She had remained silent, chewing over her thoughts until finally blurting it out. She knew she was going to have to change tactics, that much was clear. But she wanted to know why before she forced herself to go beyond bitchiness and into serious evasion. She looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time without any malice and coldness, just confusion and something hidden behind the confusion, something desperate and sad but entirely too private to discuss. The more she sat in his general vicinity, the more lame jokes he made, the more guilty she felt. She wasn’t sure where all this guilt was coming from all of a sudden. She needed to find meaner people.

First it had been Ace. Now there was Asher. And Brett, well Morgan didn’t know what Brett was. Her cheeks colored slightly at the thought of Brett and their…trysts. She looked away from Asher, staring at the grass instead. It seemed that recently she had been running into all the wrong people, which essentially meant all of the right people. “And your jokes aren’t very funny.” This comment almost had a hint of a laugh in it, a hint of the sarcastic teasing Morgan that threw frogs at her twin. But it was only a hint, just the barest of smidgens.

TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 717
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

Sometimes I wish I could save you
And there're so many things that I want you to know
I won't give up till it's over
If it takes you forever I want you to know

It was strange, how still the air had become. All the while Asher was talking, not once did he truly notice that Morgan had not responded. No hot retort, no seething degradation, no hateful glare, no nothing. He observed that it felt odd but lost in his own string of thoughts and emotions it sort of drifted over his head without much notice. Morgan wanted to hate him, that much he could assess easily. From the minute he met the wind girl, nothing was friendly. Every word that passed her lips was sarcastic and aggressive, and every word that passed his lips were taken as sarcastic and aggressive. The poor boy simply could not win any conversation. Since when were conversations supposed to be won? Never knew they were a competition. Asher loved competition. He liked to try and best other people in a friendly race or bet, and never held a grudge when he lost. However this 'banter' was becoming old and Asher was emotionally worn down. Had it not been for his injured ankle, he might have tried to make his exit a little sooner. Would I have really left? Asher pondered on this, and as he pondered Morgan finally spoke.

What was said, however, furrowed his brow and left him nearly speechless. The talkative wind elemental was stunned to silence for a long minute as he caught her gaze. There was something different in the way she looked at him; the fiery hatred she displayed only a few minutes before was replaced with something he could not describe. Perhaps Asher would have been able to find out had she not turned away, but now was not the time to gain her attention. He needed to think. Since the beginning she was brash, crude, and insulting. She threw rocks at his head and nearly killed them both in a gusty tornado of rage (courtesy of his stubbornness). She told him how much she could not stand him as a person; that even his name disgusted her. All of it was incredibly painful, but even through all of that Asher remained. If there was one thing Asher did, it was base his actions on convenience. If it required too much effort, he walked away and found something less challenging. This especially pertained to people. If a relationship was going to be one-sided and Asher would have to spend every waking moment trying to make it work, it was not worth it in the end. That train of thought saved him from many a heartbreak and plenty of shitty relationships--even friendships.

Subconsciously Asher bit at his lower lip, deep brown eyes looking over her half turned face as she looked at the grass. His solemn, thoughtful look morphed into a genuine smile. He ran a hand through his hair to remove it from his forehead even if it was brief. "I..." He started lamely, rubbing the back of his neck. "Because I want to be your friend. All humor aside, I find you really interesting. It's not very easy to explain, actually," Asher brushed over his hair before looking at his foot, trying to sort out his thoughts a little better before finding a means to continue. "You're...different. I like different. That, and I'm stubborn as hell and don't fear much of anything. I don't know if that's good or bad, but..." He shrugged, stealing a glance at the brunette sitting on the hill. A rather toothy grin broke out on his face as he looked at her, clearly satisfied with his answer being as that was the best he could give. It might have sounded cheesy or stupid, but what was he supposed to do? It was exactly how he felt, and there would be no point in making up anything else. Asher always strove to be honest, even when it was towards a girl who could tear apart everything he said without hesitation.

"Guess I'm just gonna have to be completely and totally serious from now on." Asher's smile faded into a partial frown, expression becoming stoic as he stared at her, trying to keep a straight face. After a second or two of staring at her the boy shook his head and chuckled. "Nope, not gonna happen. I couldn't even if I tried. The lame jokes are part of the package I guess." It was Asher's nature to be light and humorous, even if it was stupid or 'lame'. Half of the time his comments elicited a chuckle or a smile, which was all he wanted out of them in the first place. Maybe that's why I refuse to be driven away. Because I want to put a genuine smile on that beautiful face of hers. Asher blinked at the realization but continued to look at Morgan with a soft gaze and and an understanding smile. "So...I'm gonna need that mailbox number so I can give you your sweater back. I could have it to you by tomorrow, if you want."

That if you fall, stumble down, I'll pick you up off the ground
If you lose faith in you, I'll give you strength to pull through
Tell me you won't give up cause I'll be waiting if you fall
Oh you know I'll be there for you

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

The silence quickly became uncomfortable. Asher seemed to be stunned, quite literally. He just looked at her, his constant gaze disconcerting. Morgan eventually shifted her own eyes away, fidgeting awkwardly under his gaze. Sebastian had always been the one to think before he leapt, often encouraging Morgan to do the same. She had never quite been able to force herself to. She was a person guided by instinct. When words came to her lips, she spoke them, though she often wished she could take them back. This was one of those instances. She reflected that perhaps, ironically, her least aggressive statement would be the one to drive him away. It would be amusing really, in a sad sort of way. Maybe he was just a glutton for abuse. Morgan had to admit, despite her natural inclination not to, that she was beginning to almost enjoy his presence. It wasn’t like she looked forward to it, or yearned for it. It wasn’t comfortable or companionable. It was soothing though, just took a little edge off her razor sharp life. She stroked a thumb absentmindedly across the inside of her wrist. There, in tiny cursive, was written a single word – promise. One side of her mouth twitched into what could have formed a small smile, but lapsed back into neutrality. She had gotten the tattoo during her freshman year. It wasn’t something she spoke of, or was eager to show off. It was personal. She had taken inspiration from a song, the chorus of which she often found tracing through her thoughts. The artist sung that “we were the kings and queens of promise, the victims of ourselves. Maybe the children of a lesser god, between heaven and hell”. For Morgan, the words had been an almost constant source of contemplation and somewhat of a motto.

There had definitely been a time when she considered herself a queen of promise. In the years spent with Sebastian, traipsing through the woods and acting out mock battles, she had envisioned all the futures that could be hers. They always included Sebastian. It was when she was twelve years old that she had first heard the song. She had eagerly shown it to Sebastian, who had listened curiously. He had shrugged, hadn’t really seen in the words what Morgan had seen. But in the years that had passed, the meaning of the words had changed. Morgan had stopped seeing herself as a queen of promise. She had never considered herself the child of a god, lesser or greater. Instead, she rearranged the words slightly into something she felt more fitting. She had only uttered the phrase she had constructed once – to Ace in the hospital. It came to mind now though, as she traced the letters of her tattoo. She was a victim of promise. Morgan would have continued with this line of thought, farther than she had dared in months prior, but Asher had finally chosen to speak. He stumbled over his words. The way he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, his obvious uncertainty in his own words, well there was something endearing about it. His actions weren’t exactly childish, that could never be a word that accurately described Asher. There was something else, something that made him alluring in a way so opposite to Brett. He didn’t make her feel electric, the way Brett did, but he made her feel calm. She couldn’t describe it, even to herself as she now attempted. She let it go for the moment, folding the thought away in some recess of her mind to return to at a later point.

Despite Morgan being who she was, she smiled slightly at Asher’s words. His jokes weren’t funny, whatever way you put it. But they were cheesy, misguided attempts, and perhaps that was what made them remotely amusing. Morgan looked up at him as he trailed off. He was watching her with a soft gaze, and an understanding smile. She glanced away, looking down at her knees. Her hair fell over her shoulders, partially obscuring her features. For some reason, his understanding smile unsettled her. Most likely because she couldn’t fathom what he could possibly understand about her, and she wasn’t sure there was anything she wanted him to understand. She glanced to the side, still avoiding his gaze. “I have to do research, for a paper.” She paused. What the hell was she doing? She stumbled ahead before she could think, preventing her from leaping. “I’ll be spending a lot of time in the library. You can find me there if you want to drop it off.” Her arms dropped from around her knees, her fingers tangling in the grass. It was cool on her burning skin, relieving. The anger she had previously felt had dissipated, but she couldn’t help the discomfort. It was that understanding look, the kindness. Without her shell of hostility, she felt naked. She felt like every thought and feeling was under a microscope for him to inspect and label.

TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 842
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

Sometimes I wish I could save you
And there're so many things that I want you to know
I won't give up till it's over
If it takes you forever I want you to know

Silence. That was the sound (or lack thereof) that reached Asher's ears as he sat there and looked at her. His explanation was not exactly the most well thought out or poetic, but it was how he felt. Morgan had a very thick skin and a seemingly thicker heart, but Asher knew better than to assume all of this was who she was all of the time. There had to be something more. Asher found himself somewhat of a kindred spirit; he never revealed more than was necessary. He was not aggressive or angry by any means, but emotionally he kept people at an arms' length. If he felt someone was getting too close, Asher would pull back. Information about his past was hardly known to anyone but his family, and anyone who did know about it probably found out on accident. Social, yes, but open about himself? Not really. No one ever gave him the urge to share anyway, so Asher decided it better to wait than to spill his guts to random strangers. That was dangerous. It could get him hurt. So why the hell am I willing to get hurt by Morgan? The thought was supposed to be fleeting, but as soon as it tried to make its escape the boy reached out and held onto it ferociously. That was a good question, and one he wanted to answer but could not seem to find anything.

Subconsciously, Asher raked his fingers through his hair; it was a subtle motion to be rid of the thoughts nagging the forefront of his mind. It worked for the time being. Exhaling and leaning back a little to stare at the sky, he smiled. Aside from the rock to his head, the hurt ankle and the semi-injured pride, he had to admit that getting Morgan to ask him a question without throwing an insult felt...good. Not quite what he was wanting; Asher wanted to actually hold a conversation with her, but for now this was a step in the right direction. She might revert back though. Maybe this is temporary, just to get her sweater back. The thought stung, but understandable. If Morgan really was as cold and aggressive as she was during their previous encounter, then being kind might have been a way to coax him into giving her what she wanted. But...I'm already giving her what she wants. Why would any of this be necessary? He was used to the insults, the anger, the arguments; when you lived with someone like Adam it was not unusual. His flare ups were random and loud, some of which got him into several fights with his older brother. Asher tended to ignore them after a while, which might have been one of the reasons Morgan's temper did not faze him.

The entire time Asher conversed with the wind girl, he expected hostility, hatred, and anger. He assumed a few crude names would be tossed in, maybe a couple of degrading statements about his stupidity or how ugly his face was. None of it came to fruition. Only silence lingered between them for what seemed like forever, until she finally decided to respond. Asher attempted to keep his mouth from falling open. Did she just... After the insults, the rocks, the pain, he did not exactly expect that response. Had she not wanted him to dump off her sweater in a place where she could avoid looking at him? Swallowing a little and refraining from executing a small smile of contentment, Asher nodded. "Okay, I can do that. Any particular day?" He tilted his head, trying to be as accommodating as possible. The more social aspect of his personality wanted to talk more, but figured now was not the time to push it. "And...is it okay if I bring you something from Timmie's? Maybe some caffeine to keep you going while you work? I'll be stopping in there on my way to school anyway." Asher raised an eyebrow, his voice noticeably lower but still friendly and albeit a bit hesitant. "I normally would just surprise you but some people aren't fans of coffee and cappuccino." Asher was not a fan himself, but he could always grab something without caffeine. That, and giving her the notion that he was not going out of his way for her might not make her feel too awkward. I hope...

That if you fall, stumble down, I'll pick you up off the ground
If you lose faith in you, I'll give you strength to pull through
Tell me you won't give up cause I'll be waiting if you fall
Oh you know I'll be there for you

[MORGAN JANE FARREN]

-----------------------------------
TELL ME, DID THE WIND SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

[/size][/i]AND HEAD BACK TOWARD THE MILKY WAY
----------------------------------[/size]
[/center][/font]

This was a disaster. What the hell am I thinking? Morgan’s heart raced. She was breaking her own rule now, shattering it and the relative stability it had given her chaotic life. And she knew it wasn’t simply for the return of her sweater. She could have given him a mailbox, something. She wouldn’t, or couldn’t, actually look at Asher. She had glanced long enough to see the flash of pleased surprise in his eyes. She was encouraging him, not pushing him away. It was a dangerous thing, dangerous for them both. It was uncharted territory, or at least territory that over the past four years had become impossibly unfamiliar to Morgan. A little voice in the back of her head reminded Morgan of what had happened the last time she wandered into that territory. Images of a rope swing, a frustrated little girl, her gentle brother, and the wind whispering through the leaves of the tree over them came unbidden to her mind. There was a frozen picture, this single frozen picture. It was the moment before it all shattered. She could clearly see herself in her mind’s eye, arms folded across her chest and preparing to hurl accusations at her brother. And Sebastian, calm as always, and smiling that gentle smile. She stopped her train of thought before it could bring her to the image that followed, the one seared into her memory. But in that moment, she realized just why Asher’s smile, his kindness, disconcerted her so. When he smiled, and looked at her with those gentle understanding eyes, he looked just like Sebastian. Not really in appearance or features, it was the essence. Her eyes rolled to his ankle, to the cut on his head. And look what you already did to him. How long until he can’t smile anymore?

But he was speaking, tilting his head at her as he inquired about days and timing. Morgan was silent for a moment. This was a moment of truth. She could still take it all back, get up now and walk away, maybe just toss a mailbox number over her shoulder as she went. She could make him safe. Or she could give him a time, a place, lure him into what would inevitably be a trap. She could be selfish, hold on to him because he made her feel steady. She could risk his well-being, risk hurting him more than she already had. She could take advantage of him, subject him to all that was her. Morgan chewed her lip. “I’ll be there in two days, from noon till five.” Perhaps she had always been a selfish creature. Perhaps she was like that little spindly creepy thing in Lord of the Rings. She hopped around and ate raw fish, craved the feeling of her “precious”, and thought only of herself. It was a depressing thought, but one that rang true all the same. But even this image didn’t stop her from being a glutton, from being selfish and dangerous.

He was speaking again though – something about coffee. Morgan’s eyes snapped up, locking onto Asher’s. “No!” she nearly shouted the word before she could compose herself. Caffeine was something Morgan never consumed willingly. Adrenaline, adrenaline was like a drug and she was an addict. But caffeine, well caffeine was like putting a machine gun in Morgan’s hands and asking if she was having a good day. Caffeine gave her too much pure energy, too many racing thoughts, it spun her already nearly control-less self out of whack. She recovered quickly though, stumbling back over her words. “This isn’t a date. Don’t bring me food.” Her words weren’t as sharp or hostile as before, but there was definitely a warning in them. He was pushing it just getting an invitation, couldn’t he just walk away the victor? She stood, grabbing her textbook and pressing it to her chest once again. She wanted to leave, now. She needed to do it before she did something stupid, he said anything she wasn’t ready to hear. “And if you even think about bringing flowers, or any shit besides my sweater, I will ensure that you never have children.” Her knuckles were white, mostly from nervousness. She was skittish, by her nature. This whole conversation was leagues out of her comfort zone, but she didn’t walk away just yet. As pathetic as it was, she wanted to see him smile one more time.

TAGGED: Asher Jonathan Rizzo
OUTFIT: right here.
WORDS: 745
NOTES: x
LYRICS: drops of jupiter by train.
CREDIT: mrs. robert downey jr of cv2 ,abbi, or mrs.sherlock holmes @ atf!

[/color]

[asher]

Sometimes I wish I could save you
And there're so many things that I want you to know
I won't give up till it's over
If it takes you forever I want you to know

Morgan could have turned back. She could have retracted her offer and left him sitting there with nothing more than a mailbox number or a dorm room number and possibly never see her face again. It would not have surprised him; Asher was never very good with girls, even if they were just friends. He did not like casual sex, he kept himself distant, but at the same time he was a physically affectionate person. People read the wrong signs and assumed Asher was interested in more than friendship. By the time they found out his intentions were simply to remain at a friendship level, they became upset and normally walked away. He lost more people that way, and it was not even a conscious decision. After a while Asher relented and stopped expecting anything less out of people, but through all of that he found himself pleasantly surprised at Morgan's reply. The boy blinked a few times, still rendered half-speechless but smiling none the less. "Okay, I'll be there around two. Give you a couple of hours to get started before I distract you with your sweater."

Asher wanted to make an attempt at being humorous, but he had to admit it made him feel stupid after she made note of how un-funny his comments were. No one had ever said something like that before, be it Morgan's aggressive tendencies or not. It actually stung. A slight frown formed on his features before being startled by her outburst, Asher drawing his head back and putting his hands up. "Okay okay...it was just an offer since I was already going there. I'm sorry." Asher defended quietly, still looking at her with a soft gaze that held no fear and a smile that did not falter. I knew I stepped over a line. Why can't I stop myself? Idiot. He honestly did not comprehend why she was so defensive; had he known what caffeine did to her Asher might have been more understanding, but he was ignorant. "I never said anything about a date. I was just trying to be nice. I would do it for any of my friends." He felt that she did not want to be considered a friend; after her outbursts and actions it was hard to feel otherwise, but he wanted to let her know that the friend slot was open.

He watched with piqued interested as Morgan stood; it was human nature to execute subtle cues before directly saying what they wanted to say; Asher took note of the book against her chest and figured that she was eager to leave. "And, I will just bring myself and the sweater. Nothing more. I'd like to have children one day." Slowly he leaned forward and pushed himself up to try and stand, wincing at the pain that surged through his ankle. He brushed off his shorts and smiled at her brightly, stretching himself out. A few students wandered by and observed them for a moment or two before moving along on their way; obviously they heard some of the conversation--or well, the discussion. Maybe she'll hold a conversation eventually... Sighing a little as he placed his hands on his hips, he glanced over at the retreating students before looking at Morgan, his smile bright but considerably less noticeable. It was soft and thoughtful, his eyes searching her face before looking up. "Well, I'll see you in a couple of days then. Hope those giggling girls in class don't bother you too much." Asher replied, chuckling a little before settling into a yoga pose, releasing the tension and thoughts running through his head.

That if you fall, stumble down, I'll pick you up off the ground
If you lose faith in you, I'll give you strength to pull through
Tell me you won't give up cause I'll be waiting if you fall
Oh you know I'll be there for you