Hey guys! Going to bed right after this, but I hope you enjoy this chapter! If you guys have been coming up with theories and analyseses (what is the plural for that word?) I would love to hear them... I try to make connections in the stories ad fill this story with symbols and metaphors and figurative language, so please tell them to me! Also, find me on tumblr guys, so i can talk you you! Username is roseofphantom. Also, if you guys send me questions - one me, on the story, on me and the story, if I get enough I might put them in a video for you!
Two weeks left of school and I am DONE (not including Finald Week, but four out of five of my finals are essays). And I can work on this ALL DAY for you. Hopefully I would be updating more. But at least one a day, as always. I am also excited to start working more and not be so broke all the time
Jack stirred early the next morning, at the moment in time when a soft glow of light was lining the horizon against the backdrop of night. The room was still drawn under the blue black absence of light. The house was devoid of any noise while the Bennetts slept. He had been right. The pond did have a power, but it wasn't what he had thought it was. It was something more mystical than that. He had understood why he had fallen for Morgan the way he did. She had believed in him with an ease only seen in his sister, and his Bennetts, who were his family. It was true that Morgan had her stubborn and aggressive sides, but that also meant she never gave up on people. She valued people, especially those who often went undervalued. Jack watched her shift her chin against the pillow, her fingers lightly grazing the blue material over his chest. Her knees had been bent, and pulled up so she was knocking against his thighs. His hand rested on the curvature of her waist; her body heat had been scalding against his frost tipped hands, but now it had gotten used to his cold and was mildly warm. He tugged the blanket back over her. Jack was in constant fear of getting her sick if he touched her too long, but Morgan always argued she liked it when he really touched her. So far, yesterday was the only time he had allowed to forgo the blanket, when Morgan had caught him so off guard when she shoved him against the wall in fit of burning desire. He hoped the heat her body created when they tangled in the first real make out session of roughly thirty minutes had been strong enough to warm off anything freezing cold temperatures could do to her. Right now, she seemed fine. The curve on her chest rose and fell in a gentle motion that told him she was breathing fine. Her cheeks were brushed with a tint of rose, and she wasn't even shaking under his cradling arms. Clots of golden particles clung to ends of her eyelashes, remnants from the Sand that fueled her dreams. They had gotten back not too late, but Morgan has been exhausted from the day's agenda.
She had danced across the ice on the lake, gracefully sliding along the surface Jack perfected to help her stay upright. She had fallen twice, once on her posterior which she had just laughed off, another landing flat on her stomach and her face slammed into the ice. She did spent a minute moaning over it, but soon it was followed with her own jokes about falling for Jack's masterpiece, so he had understood she was okay. Several times she ripped away from him to attempt to skate by herself, which was when she fell, and the way she had laughed and the persistent confidence she had cradled his heart with proud intensity of admiration. He could only observe how wonderful she was, and had obsessed over the fact she chose to be with him, even though a human relationship would have been so much easier. The gentle snowfall he created nestled in her hair and the luminescent glow of delight grew. Jack's mood of perfect bliss caused the weather to raise in temperature a few degrees and the snow seemed to float in an almost waltzing motion. He watched Morgan, amazing to discover he thought something was more beautiful than the crystallized pellets that landed in her hair and on her nose.
"Stop nipping at my nose!" she had scolded with playful chuckling.
"You're the one who keeps skating into it," he had defended.
"You are purposely strategically planning every individual snowflake so they land on my nose," she teased, gliding towards him. Jack reached out and caught her by the middle, preventing her from moving forwards.
"That requires knowing math and angles," Jack had said. "I just let them fall." Morgan had spun on her skates, teetering as she did but her hands tightened against Jack's shoulders. He had pulled her closer so they were now pressed against each other.
"I think..." she theorized. "You are thinking about me."
"Hm?"
"The weather reacts to your emotions, right? So it's following me. Haven't you noticed how the snow is always in my face, no matter what direction I'm in?." Jack had exhaled slowly and the snow soon began to fall straight down. "Thank you."
"I can still nip your nose," he had told her, and had attacked her nose with a barrage of icy kisses on the tip. Morgan chortled under the attack and wriggled to get away from him. Instead, he had kept his arms around her, laughing at her reactions to him. She was the most perfect girl he had ever seen, and it was so hard to fathom how much she had changed in four years.
They had spent a couple hours at the lake, and Ms. Bennett fixed hot chocolate for her to counter the cold she had taken in. After she had downed the mug, they went back to Jack's room and that was when she had attacked him. Jack smiled fondly at how eager she had been to latch her arms around him, ignoring Abby while she barked at Sophie and Jamie, who thundered with enthusiasm all around the house. After lunch, they spent time playing a game with the Bennetts, and then dinner was followed by a film, a family friend that was, of course, also a true story for Morgan's interest. While they had all squeezed themselves onto that couch, Sophie on Ms. Bennett's lap, Morgan on Jack's, and Abby attempting to make room for herself, Jack had this feeling propel his heart. It was one he had felt before, but it had been so long he had forgotten it was missing from him. It was a sense as near to completion he had ever felt since the last time he saw his sister. On his lap was the girl he cherished more than anything, and his family, tossing kernels of popcorn at each other and Abby cleaned up after them At some point, Sophie had fallen asleep and Jamie offered to take her upstairs. Morgan walked lethargically to Jack's room, falling over onto the bed couch. She made the argument she was too tired to change into her pajamas, but when Jack smacked her in the face with a blue baseball shirt that said "LOVE", the O being a snowflake, and pajama bottoms with little fox faces all over it, she reluctantly complied and skipped to the bathroom. After returning, however, she passed out immediately.
That brought them to where they were now, Jack waking up beside her and memorizing the contours that shaped her eyes and then followed down to form her nose. He moved his fingertips across the petals of her lips and then navigated to the shadow of her jaw. The body was most easiest to read, in its stillness, as it slept, making it all the easier to find that trace of childhood. It was there, in the fullness of her cheeks, the resting contentedness in her brow, and the slight touch of joy that turned her lips. For a second, it made him wonder about what he was doing and he jerked back from the shock of seeing the innocence still lingering, but womanhood, and it's doom of growing up, was more apparent than it ever had. She would hate it, if he pointed it out, but skin was raised and red in a couple of places along her scalp where pimples were forming. On the outsides of her playful smirk, was the pressed patience of a girl who had endured too much to be a child any longer. The curvature of her closed eyelids was no longer as prominent as it used to be, a sign her eyes, which were pretty much always the same size from birth til death, had grown into her head. Her face had thinned out dramatically, the biggest indicator of her childhood leaving. And that was just her face. There were other parts on her body that had certainly developed and made it more obvious she wasn't a girl, but he chose not to think of them. No, Morgan was not a girl anymore. The thought both terrified and cheered him. With her innocence leaving, more and more worlds were opening up to her everyday so she would soon lose her naivete of the world. Maybe that already happened and he never noticed it, but it was not a thought that soothed him. With only a couple years til high school, she was to soon enter a world where she would see dark things for the very first time. He would be there, of course, to help her, but having always spent time with children and getting no time as a teenager himself before his demise, and it being a different time, he was not sure how to handle it. He never expected to do this. And of course, there was always the matter of her not believing.
At this point though, he believed in her way too much that it no longer haunted him as much as it used to. He had learned her deep passion for him and the prints he left behind, he was sure she would never, at least, stop believing in his existence. Whether or not she would stop believing in their love, that was a different matter altogether, and that was the one that riled his thoughts. At the same time, he could not wait to enter a world with her he had never gotten the chance to explore, to learn new things about the world and teenagers and just be one, when he never could before. The unexpected and the new of their lives together was stressful in his apprehension.
Morgan twitched once more under the tickle of his kisses and this time, her lashes lifted to expose her sunny brown orbs.
"Uhh..." she moaned tiredly and the pulled the covers over her head.
"Good morning?" Jack said to her with a chuckle.
"Nnrrrgghhh..."
"I'm not sure that's English."
"Everyone should be well learned in Waking Up Speech," she said to him in a slurred tone. "And no one should ever wake up to the sun rising."
"You should at least once in your life..."
"No." But Jack had already abandoned her side and was rifling through her bag. "Whaaatt?"
"Here." A roll of socks plunked her in the face. She looked over to him inquisitively as she unrolled them, and hesitantly pulled them on. Jack tugged at her arm, persuading her to get out of bed.
"I suppose I'm already up..." she moaned, and then allowed Jack to lead her out of the room. She yawned as he dropped her coat on her shoulders and set her boots in front of her. Lazily she stepped into them, and Jack zipped her coat when she seemed to be having trouble locating the zipper through her tired pupils. He led her out the door and she clung to him while he crawled up the side of the house. The two of them sat on top of the barn domed roof of the Bennett house and Jack positioned Morgan so she was halfway into his lap. He threw and arm around her and leaned his chin against her hair.
"Okay," she breathed, a draft of white air emitting from her mouth in the cold air. "Maybe this is a little worth it." The red orange light was now brightening and weaving into the navy sky, pockets of violet trapped between the colors. Behind them, the moon was still shining it's silver haze. Only a couple more hours and it would be no longer be visible. Morgan ripped her eyes from the beauty of the approaching dawn and stared at the silver orb.
"Morgan?" he addressed.
"Oh... I was just thinking... the moon is like... the ruler of Guardians and spirits... and he's the wisest?"
"Yeah. He chose all of us."
"Would he have something to say about us?" Morgan wondered.
"I've talked to him about it... but he very rarely responds. He seems to respond only when it's vital to us."
"And love isn't vital?"
"It's hard to know how he thinks." But Morgan clapped her hands together as if preparing for Sunday morning service and tightly shut her eyes.
"Please please speak, Man in the Moon and help us know what to do!" she begged dramatically. "What can we do?" A passing of silence bloomed into Jack's laughter.
"It's not a prayer!" he said. "It's like talking to a friend, like you're asking Linda for help."
"Well I don't know, the Man in the Moon wasn't a thing in my house," Morgan shrugged. "We were taught about the moon, and that if you looked closely you could see a face, and that was the Man in the Moon. Although I always thought the angle of the face looked feminine."
"Well none of us have ever actually seen him," Jack explained. "It's like... we can hear what he's saying it our hearts, but there's no real voice to it? It's hard to explain."
"I just keep thinking if he knew this would be a problem... if this would happen," Morgan moaned and leaned in closer to Jack. "I want to grow up Jack, but I don't want to if it means losing you."
"Let's be like Peter Pan and fly to Neverland," Jack remarked.
"You can fly, right? Second star to the right?"
"Except instead of it being spring when I go there, it would be winter."
"That's okay," Morgan said. "Oh how fun it would be to play house or something."
"What a dream that would be..."
"Can I tell you something, Jack? A secret. I have never told anyone before..."
"Yeah, of course you can, snowflake. You can tell me anything."
"I'm... ashamed to admit it..." Morgan whispered. "I have never thought about it seriously... but it's passed my mind."
"What?"
"Everyone who is a Guardian had to die or be completely overtaken to something from the spirit realm, right?"
"The latter is less common, and realm isn't really the right word since we're in the same world as you, but yes..."
"Well..." Morgan nervously scrunched the snow on the roof, her cheeks filling with red and her knuckles white as Jack's skin. "Once or twice I wondered... maybe if I died..."
"You are not thinking about killing yourself?!" Jack said with baffled shock rising as he did.
"No, no, Jack I promise I am not!" she assured him quickly, embracing him immediately. "I am not going to do that... it's just more of a 'If I died, I wonder if I would be chosen and we could be together?' But from what you've told me, the Man in the Moon chooses people depending on how they've lived their lives and what they have done to serve and protect people. Selfless people. Isn't suicide considered the most selfish act? I'm not sure that would... help with anyone to be chosen."
"Well, I don't know, I haven't met anyone who was a suicide. Cupid begged for himself to be killed, but that was..."
"Cupid begged to be killed?" Morgan interrupted with a gasp.
"For... selfless reasons, of course," Jack explained shortly. The look on her face was expectant and he knew she was waiting to hear more. He turned to her to give the account. "He lived in the area of Italy, not long after Pitch's rise to power. A couple hundred years or so. He was about twenty-three, and he had a best friend who had been his friend since they were toddlers, but they were also complete opposites. Cupid was popular, was liked by everyone, charming... you understand, I don't need to explain." Morgan snickered with guilt. "Ilario, his friend, was always at home, helping care for his siblings and working with his father. He didn't have the charisma Cupid had either. He wasn't popular, and try as he might, he could not get this one girl to like him, Gemma her name was. She had liked him since he was about your age, and he was a year younger than Cupid. She was the only girl he had ever liked, the only one he ever truly cared about. Cupid, however, never really liked anyone truly. He just..." he waved his hand, trying to avoid the subject.
"Slept around." Morgan responded.
"Yeah. And he was good and persuading them. Boys and girls. But Ilario was secret about Gemma, didn't even tell Cupid. He saw her once, and apparently she was one of the most beautiful girls to have ever existed, but she wasn't stupid and she wasn't easily swayed. When she turned down Cupid's advances, and you know how hard that is, he became obsessed with her and through his obsession he discovered he did fall in love with her. When Cupid told her he was never going after anyone else ever again, she didn't believe him – until he actually did it. He secluded himself and denied any requests for attention. She told him she loved him too and they began a relationship – a real one. Ilario, however, was not happy as you can imagine, and they got in this huge fight and didn't speak for months. Gemma was taken one day and Cupid asked for Ilario's help in finding her. He immediately agreed and the two searched for her. I don't really know how, but Cupid had built a reputation so some people did not like him, since had an affair or two or ten with some people that were already in relationships. This person also happened to be obsessed with Gemma, and the two of them together just broke him. I never learned his name, Cupid never seemed to want to say it, but it seems it wasn't hard to find her, but he had already has his way with her several times over and it had taken a toll on Gemma mentally. He was going to kill Gemma and Ilario and leave him lonely forever, but Cupid begged to be taken instead, and he did, but not before he asked Ilario to stay with Gemma and protect her from the public. In those times, rape was not seen as a terrible thing that happened to a woman, but it made a woman into some sort of whore." Morgan jumped at the term, not used to Jack using such language. "Cupid died for love. Not just for his love for Gemma, but also his love for his best friend. That was why he was chosen. To protect love and to help people find love. I guess for a while, he did a good job, and kept a close eye on Gemma and Ilario. They got married and had children, and for a while they were happy... but Gemma was always traumatized. He tried to keep her happy, but everything weighed down on him. Gemma's mentality was too difficult for him to handle, he had obtained the status as the guy who had married the girl who got raped, his children were often teased. He walked out on her. Cupid tried to rekindle everything, but he ignored everything, not wanting to deal with it. Gemma died alone."
"And that's why Cupid isn't as responsible..." Morgan concluded. Jack nodded.
"And he's just getting worse. Cupid sleeps around a flirts to cope. Also, it's always been a part of his personality. His story is a sad one. And that is a horrible thing to go through. But it's been years, and he seems to have turned a blind eye to the stories that did make it, and instead focuses on that one event. He's irresponsible and needs to learn how to take action, but he's not a terrible guy." The yellow white light of the sun was now beginning to conquer the town. Morgan winced under it's bright pain. Jack looked down at the neighborhood below and groaned.
"It's February 15. That means right now there's thousands of people slipping out of houses who are never going to call their nightly partners back, all because of what Cupid's done. I just wish he learned responsibility."
"No, Jack," Morgan said, clutching his hand. "I mean you're wrong, but you're not focusing on it. Sure, Cupid made have flung the arrows, and created sparks in people. But Pitch is still around, and will always be, because fear always will be. And some people are afraid of commitment... or just got drunk. The people who are leaving are leaving because of Pitch. The way I see it, people leave and some say something about it not working. That's fine, some things just don't work. It hurts, but at least they realized it wouldn't. And then there are those who slip away because they're too cowardice too say something – they're too afraid. That's Pitch, that's not Cupid. But besides that, you need to remember and keep in mind the other things happening today."
"And that is?"
"People are waking up to celebrate engagements, or are just becoming engaged. In some cases, in 9 months, new life will be born. More lives you can taunt with snowballs in a few years. Yesterday, there were weddings. There may be new relationships. They may be the ones actually falling in love, but it was Cupid that created the spark – even if he was firing blindly." He ran his hand up and down her arm, staring into the bright of the sun on the snow. "Cupid might be more aware of what he's doing than you think."
Thanks so much you guys for all the love and support you have been giving me. It means so much, and it really makes me feel glad to type this for you. I love you all! See you tomorrow! Rosie out.
