"You'll be fine. Just use your arms and-"
"I know how to swim, Rose," Morgan's head lulled on her shoulders as her eyes found the blonde across the room, sitting on the couch in the corner. She'd been perched at the edge of the pool for the last ten minutes, watching quietly as Emmett and Jasper attempted to drown each other, wrestling in amongst the salt of the pool water. Their playful fighting splashed water in every direction—causing both Rosalie and Alice to settle on the couch instead.
Edward, however, remained on the last steps of the staircase with a book in hand. Surely something he'd read a million times before yet insisted was much more interesting than whatever 'fun' was happening nearby. But Carlisle had been sat by her side during the entirety of her indecision, feet propped up on the second step into the pool, and he waited patiently for her to be ready. For her to need him. And Esme stood just behind, observing the others as they roughhoused.
Morgan's feet hung limply in the water and she stared at them, contemplating the pros and cons of simply allowing them to disappear and melt into one. Somewhere deep in her gut, that's what she wanted. The urge was there just beneath the surface and it called, screamed at her to listen, an almost intoxicating sound she found herself listening more to by the second. "We don't have to do this today," Carlisle gently reminded.
Morgan sighed. "I want to. It's just...hard. If I accept this part of myself, I have to accept that I'm not human. I don't know how to do that."
"Well, it's definitely made easier being aware of it," Carlisle tipped his head in an expression. He stood then, and stepped down the remaining two stairs before coming to stand in front of her. "What you're feeling right now is perfectly normal. We've all gone through it. But you don't have to accept what you are right away. Give yourself some time, figure out what it means to you. This could be something you hate. Or, it could be something you weren't even aware you desired."
"Only one way to find out!" Emmett called, from the other end of the pool.
Carlisle outstretched a hand as Morgan visibly fell into deeper indecision, biting her lower lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, and she shuddered an exhale. "I don't wanna use it yet," she said, though she took his offered hand despite it. She allowed herself to be guided into the shallows, the water over her hips.
"You don't have to," he assured her.
"But imagine how badass it's gonna look in here," Emmett commented, his breaststroke taking him right past the pair. Though, he remained in the five-feet region. The words brought out a somewhat nervous laugh from Morgan's throat as she focused on how the bottom of the pool felt against the soles of her feet.
It was like a more solid sand, the texture somehow rough and soft at the same time. The water felt warm despite the suddenness of it against her skin. She'd expected the shock of the first time in a pool, and instead was met with an almost soothing temperature that reached every corner of her skin—even spaces not touched by it yet. "What do you feel?" Carlisle asked her. "Let's focus on that for now."
Morgan glanced up from the water. "Warmth. Safety."
"That's good. What else?"
The water crawled up her body, slowly soaking the front of her t-shirt. She'd tied its excess around her torso to keep it from floating any higher. It was the only way she could think to keep herself covered while transitioning her legs in front of the whole family and spare her the embarrassment sure to come of the exposure. "Fear," she admitted, though quietly. "There's this urge to go under, but I don't think it's mine."
Carlisle looked away then, finding Jasper where he sat on the edge of the pool not many feet away. But Jasper adamantly shook his head. This was not his doing. Her feelings were in fact hers, whether she truly understood them or not. Though, that was quite a bit more terrifying. "It's yours, Morgan. Your instincts are telling you to submerge yourself. You should listen to them," Carlisle told her, calmly.
Morgan shuddered at the thought. "Will it make everything else go away?"
"It's possible."
"Jay, can I get a little confidence, please?" Morgan's gaze flickered right, to her brother on the side of the pool. He nodded, a silent agreement to her request, but obliging was almost instantaneous. It was in the slow but steady dampening of her anxiety. The fortification of warmth along her spine. She could feel it like a hot rush of relief through her shoulders, and she exhaled a deep breath.
Then, she looked to Carlisle and gave a small nod. He nodded in return and retracted his hand before glancing up at Esme. She watched them carefully, acknowledging her husband's subtle check-in with a soft smile. The moment felt like watching her first steps all over again. Her first solid foods, first night sleeping in her own room, first time she rode a bike without training wheels. All of these small moments were precious milestones they held dear.
Now, as she leaned into the water to let it swallow her, they pinned the image to their memory alongside the others. Morgan sucked in a breath and the pool enveloped her, as though it opened a space just for her before closing it over her head, and she sank far enough to soak her entire body. It was at the textured surface of the bottom she felt the wisps of a thought float through her mind. Open your eyes.
Thanks to Jasper, any reluctance to defy it was far too quiet to outweigh the desire to comply. As her eyelids fluttered open, the water rushed in against her pupils—but the salt didn't burn. In fact, it didn't feel any different than opening them on dry land. She could move them and blink and not feel much of anything. But she noticed another stark difference—she could see. She could see Emmett dipping under the surface in the deep end to glide through the water, spinning slowly like some kind of large seal. Enjoyment was visible on his face.
What's more, the little bubbles of water that floated upward from the way he moved sparkled in the underwater lighting. The realization caused them to widen and in a knee-jerk reaction, she lurched upright, pushing down against the bottom with her feet to stand. She sucked in a breath of shock when her head broke the surface and Carlisle stepped closer. "Are you alright?" he questioned, concern coating the words nearly too thick to speak them aloud.
But she was overcome with elation from the discovery and it showed in the way her eyes remained alight and her jaw fell slack. It was genuine excitement for this subject she'd only possessed once before—only three days prior, when a goldfish insulted her taste in aquarium decor. The sight brought a small smile to Jasper's face. "What'd you get?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"I can see," she answered, blinking the water from her eyes as it drained down her face. "I can really see. It's like high definition down there. But better, somehow."
"Maybe it has somethin' to do with your eyes changin' color?" Jasper suggested.
His words were like a hard smack between the eyes. Morgan wiped at her face to squeegee away the water from her hair and looked to Carlisle for confirmation. "They're silver," Carlisle nodded once, eyeing the drastic change cautiously. A million thoughts coursing through his mind. "They reflect the light like-"
Jasper interrupted then, supplying him with a descriptor, "Glitter."
"Or tin foil," Emmett offered another suggestion, coming to stand at the cusp of the five-foot section.
"I wanna see!"
Alice called out then, her voice almost a squeal of excitement, a sound that preceded the echo of wet feet against the stone floor. They became progressively closer in the span of a few seconds. Still caught in an internal bout of shock, Morgan turned her head when they sounded close enough—and Alice squatted at the edge of the pool to get a better look. "Oh, they're so beautiful!" she tilted her head as her teeth began to show. "Can you see better above water now, too?"
Morgan shook her head. "If it weren't for your voice, I wouldn't know what your expression was from here."
"Your eyes were designed for underwater use. The exposure to light might be a factor in why your eyesight is bad even now," Carlisle explained his theory, and it made sense to Morgan. "They don't know how to compensate for the refraction that happens when light travels from the air to the fluid inside your eyes."
After all, if she were truly half fish, her eyes would be genetically designed for optimal underwater vision. However, human eyes functioning as a fish's was entirely uncharted scientific territory. But Morgan wondered just how human they could be, given their sudden change in color when introduced to water? It was a whole new game. And she was starting to feel the desire to play. The question 'what else could I do?' lost its inflection of dread in favor of optimism. What else could she do?
Was there more? The excitement of it all was burning white hot in her chest. "I wanna do it," Morgan decided aloud. "I'm going to swim with it."
"Hell yeah," Emmett's smile only grew where he leaned his lower back against the side of the pool.
"We'll be right here if you need us," Carlisle assured her. But he took a step back and to the left, taking a more hands-off approach to the situation that she appreciated. It would be easier to remain enthused about what she was going to do if she didn't harbor any embarrassment from the knowledge of being seen. She could simply dive in and not look back, not worrying she was being watched too closely.
Knowing she would be able to properly see also helped immeasurably. It added the needed confidence to take a step. One more. Then, a physical and metaphorical leap of faith. Morgan hopped forward on her feet, falling forward into the surface of the water like a musician into a crowd—and, in some ways, it felt like it was carrying her in the way she sank so smoothly. She was swallowed once more by the warm and inviting water, aimed toward the drastic slope of the bottom, into the deepest parts.
She allowed her muscles to relax and exhaled the breath held inside her mouth, before giving her legs permission to bond. The skin changed colors like a white t-shirt in a bowl of dye, absorbing the color quickly as ridges formed from broken epidermis that cracked like dry earth. Scale emerged as shifting land masses, the space between limbs nonexistent now. Her feet extended into left and right flukes, scaled and colored like the rest of it, but the tail grew in length unnatural for her height by two feet.
It felt odd, the tail submerged without porcelain at her back. It felt freer. She couldn't help angling onto her side in the suspended animation of floating as she continued to sink slowly. The idea that this thing belonged to her used to wrap its fingers around her throat at night. Now, it was as if it wound its arms around her torso in a hug she could feel against her skin.
This was the first time she'd seen it all quite so clearly, so in total. It was truly a marvel. Slender near the fluke where it branched into the V shaped ends that felt a little less limp in the water, a shimmer in the scales that followed the tail as it moved beneath the pool lights, and a row of frills that followed its length from where it sprouted at her lower back like a tail bone.
Morgan swam forward, following the bottom of the pool, fingers trailing a line along the gritty texture as she reached the fifteen-foot end. The shift in depth was unnoticeable—her ears didn't hurt, it wasn't hard to fight the water's gravity. She could simply swim. From here she could see the others at the other end, still exactly where she'd left them. Though, it was then she realized the peace within her lungs. They hung entirely still inside her chest cavity with no desire to move anytime soon.
On one hand, it was alarming to think about. On the other, it was all the more exciting. How long could she hold her breath for? She swam upward, fluke brushing the bottom of the pool as she began the ascent. When her head broke the surface, there was no urge to breathe in. She didn't crave the air she wasn't missing. "Guys! I don't need to breathe down there," Morgan beamed at the discovery, chin just above the surface as she treaded water easily.
"So you're a water vampire, is what you're saying?" Emmett joked. "Different eye color, don't need lungs. Only difference is you crave fish instead of blood."
Morgan mostly used her arms to swim slowly toward the more shallow waters, toward the others. "Don't forget this slug-for-legs situation happening."
"Ew, no, not a slug! Your tail is so pretty, Morgan," Alice wrinkled her nose at the choice of words.
"It is a nice color," Rosalie agreed, as she strode toward Alice from the couch. "It's like a rustic sunset."
Alice nodded in agreement with the description. "And it sparkles a little, like your eyes."
Morgan arrived at the edge of the pool near Jasper and Emmett and folded her arms atop the stone, allowing her tail to rest against the bottom of the pool as she looked up at her sisters. "Thanks, guys," she finally exhaled, a small smile on her lips. She truly did appreciate their words. Though, she knew it was purely an attempt to lift her spirits in the moment.
It was then that her muscles tensed in a startle at a sudden touch against her neck. Her eyes moved quickly to find the source, but she fought the instinct to pull away as her peripheral caught Jasper's description. He leaned toward her now, squinting at something she couldn't see, his fingertips brushing her skin as he moved her drenched locks aside.
"Are those gills?"
She blinked at him with dread like a weight in her gut. "Are they?"
"No way," Emmett moved to get a closer look, easing around Jasper's legs as he came to stand beside her. "Those sure look like gills to me."
"What?! How have I never felt them before?!" Morgan all but shrieked, a hand surging to the right side of her neck, though gentle in their search to find the skin in question.
They were in the form of slits in the meat of her neck, curved and thin but visibly deep cuts into her body. They weren't surface wounds—they weren't wounds at all. Even as the pads of her fingers followed the small flaps of slit skin, they expanded and rested, in sync with the rhythmic movement of her lungs. "You probably never had them before," Emmett pointed out, as he stepped back from her.
"You've never been swimming in your mermaid form before," Alice spoke calmly, positively. "Of course there's going to be a lot of changes."
It was meant to be reassuring, she knew. But every fiber of Morgan's being cringed at the sound of that word. Something snapped in the back of her mind and the warmth drained from her limbs. Anxiety flooded her stomach, frustration and confusion riding the swell, and her mouth moved without another thought. "Can everyone just leave, please? I need to get out."
The words on their own weren't alarming—but the empty panic in her voice caused Alice and Rosalie to share a surprised look of concern. Rosalie tilted her head in a quick gesture, urging Alice to follow her as she turned on her heels and started for the stairs. Esme gave her a small nod of approval, of thanks, and Rosalie returned it as she passed. Alice felt guilt in her chest that mixed toxically with sympathy, but she left behind Rosalie with no further nudging.
Jasper was soon behind them, having climbed to his feet in one swift motion just as Morgan finished her request. Emmett pushed down on the edge of the pool to climb out, getting to his feet on the stone, before outstretching a hand to Morgan. "Need a hand before I go?" he asked, quiet in his offer.
Morgan nodded numbly and reached up, clasping his hand with fingers she hadn't realized were trembling. Emmett pulled her up out of the water, using both hands to gently sit her beside the pool, half her tail still draped over the edge. "We have a towel and clothes for you here," Esme said, her voice immediately pulling Morgan's eyes in her direction. She gestured down at the small stack of things piled on the end table by the couch before continuing, "We'll be upstairs."
"Thank you," Morgan called to her across the space, and Esme nodded with a small smile.
She and Carlisle made their way up the stairs. Edward had long disappeared, no longer anywhere to be seen. Still lingering a moment longer, Emmett crouched at the edge of the pool beside her, hands clasped together as his arms braced against his knees, and Morgan looked to him with an eyebrow raised in question. "You know you can talk to us about what you're going through, right?" he said, gently. "We understand, more than anyone else."
Morgan sighed, palms braced against the edge on either side of her tail, "I think that's the problem, though. Everyone thinks they know what's happening and how it feels—but this is so different. It's just a lot to process and I need a break."
"Being called a 'mermaid' probably makes it a little too real, huh?"
His expression was knowing, tone rhetorical. Of course it did. Anything other than 'human' felt completely and utterly wrong. Despite what she knew about herself and what her new reality entailed—and the pure wonder of some of it—that word was ill-fitting of the person she was in thought. It was an unacceptable contradiction she couldn't quite stomach.
All she could do was nod, and Emmett placed a hand on her shoulder. He gave it a careful squeeze before leaning over an inch and placing a kiss on her temple. As he stood and began the walk toward the stairs, Morgan scrubbed her hands over her face. It gets easier. She could feel the words behind the gesture in her bones. But why couldn't it be easier now? her heart ached.
The red of her boots reflected the light, a neon sign beneath the cloudy sky of the afternoon, as she walked the line of the shore. A fine mist had spattered the lenses of her glasses, but she let them be—there was no sense in attempting to clean them only to make it worse. The sound of the waves crashing so close was calming. More so than she'd expected when planning her excursion this morning.
Even on their very first day within city limits, Carlisle was sure to explain the ground rules. There was a limit to where she could explore on the Olympic Peninsula. It seemed simple. All she had to do was not cross an imaginary line drawn between Forks and the reservation, decided on far too long ago to question. Still, she found herself crossing the line every so often, most times only for a few minutes. Though, even that would cause serious trouble if ever discovered.
Morgan knew this, pondering the consequences as she crossed the beach to find the parking lot. If she got caught, she knew, she would deserve whatever came of her. Hadn't Carlisle told her not to enough times? Hadn't she been warned about the locals enough to heed them? Not quite, it seemed. Still, she walked fast, hands in the pockets of her coat as her camera bag bounced gently against her hip. But she wondered just what could happen. After all, she was the only non-vampire Cullen. Could they even punish her under the same rules?
Being a more social member of the Cullen household had its perks, such as befriending girls who already had licenses. Liz Stilter was easily the best choice for this trip. She could keep a secret better than all her other friends combined. But, most importantly, she was willing to keep it. Though, she wasn't aware just why she needed to. Liz was due to be back to pick her up in the next few minutes, and Morgan needed to be in the parking lot when she arrived.
So, she kept moving as she passed sporadic beach goers, trudging through the wet sand as the clouds rumbled overhead. It was nearly perfect weather for a storm. However, it wouldn't come traditionally. No, it would come in the form of Sam Uley. "Hey," the voice shouted behind her was reminiscent of a bark. She wasn't sure if it was the suddenness or simply the sound of it that caused her muscles to jolt in a startle, whirling on her heels only to be faced with a much taller, angrier man she'd never seen before. "What do you think you're doing here?"
He demanded answers for the trespass. That, along with the two other young men coming to stand beside him, gave him away—and Morgan swallowed hard. These were the 'wolves' she'd been warned about. More like angered pups, she'd thought. "Walking. Is that a crime?" she tried to sound unbothered, but not quite flippant. No. Confident.
"Your kind can't walk here," one of the others snarled.
Morgan stared up at him then with eyes squinted in indignation, but her head tilted with a challenge. "What kind is that, hm?"
She could feel Sam's eyes, the weight of his stare pinching something at the back of her throat. He could hear her heart beating against her ribs like a war drum, piercing right through the rage in his ears. They all knew what the Cullens were. Vampires. Blood-sucking killers. However, no vampire had ever had a working heart. They remained still in their chests like tree ornaments on display—with no sound to be heard.
When Morgan's gaze shifted to meet Sam's, he leaned back on his heels, exhaling a heavy breath—and she knew what he'd realized. But the voice that called to her then belonged to neither of the three before her. One she hadn't thought she'd hear again so soon. "Morgan?" her name sounded confused in his mouth, her appearance surely a shock, and she turned her head almost immediately.
"Jacob?" she squinted genuinely now as he approached.
He came to stand two feet to her right, glancing warily between both parties though his words were meant for her alone. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, we were just getting acquainted," Morgan shook her head, waving away the concern she knew was actually just. Then, she looked up at Sam again, this time with a polite smile on her lips. "Morgan Cullen."
She held out her hand toward him and he looked down at it with a steely but subtle glare. If he could've, she knew, he would've either slapped it away or ignored the gesture entirely. Although, he couldn't raise suspicion quite so obviously. To his disgust, he reached forward and gripped her hand with his own, grumbling his name, "Sam Uley."
The grip was almost too tight, beginning to uncomfortably pinch her skin, but she shook it before retreating from the gesture as casually as possible. He introduced the others as only 'Paul and Jared', the snarling one ready to snap his teeth being Paul. She made a mental note to avoid him in particular. "Well, it was nice meeting you. I have a friend coming to pick me up, so I should be going," she told him. And, in fact, it was odd she hadn't heard Liz honking impatiently from the parking lot yet.
Sam simply glared as she turned to leave, keeping his jaw wound so tight it started to put a small ache in his bones. She was human. So, why did she live with the Cullens? Was she a victim? Someone they kept around, waiting to be hungry enough to eat? Or, was she a kind of beard to trick others into thinking they're human? The thought lended the girl some sympathy. But the other questions swirling around his mind—and therefore, the minds of all three—only caused further frustration.
Any vampires in the area were a threat. However, an entire family of them taking residence so close was a catastrophe waiting to happen. He watched as Morgan continued her original path toward the parking lot, eyeing Jacob as he eagerly followed. The boy had no idea who he was associating with. That was how it had to be, but they longed to warn him, to steer him away. If there was one Cullen, there had to be more nearby.
Morgan was unaware of their heated stares, though she assumed they would be following her until she could no longer be seen. Given the nature of her family, she didn't blame them. Not truly. "Well, that was tense, huh?" Jacob commented, falling into step with her on the wet sand. "Sorry about them—I'd say this doesn't usually happen, but I'd be lying. Sam can be kind of a douche."
"Oh, it's okay. I know I'm not really welcome around here. Probably should've found a different beach," she made the statement sound like a lighthearted joke, in spite of its truth.
"Hey, no—don't listen to those guys. You can come here anytime. And, if you want to get the full La Push experience, I'd be happy to offer my services as your personal tour guide. Free of charge."
He smiled warmly, a toothy gesture bright enough to light up every feature on his face, and Morgan's stomach tensed. A laugh bubbled its way up her throat as a smile began to pierce her cheeks. "Okay. Well, I might just have to take you up on that. There a lot of secret parts of the Pacific Ocean people don't know about?" she questioned, teasingly.
"Ah, you laugh now," Jacob held up a finger. "But you won't find sites like this anywhere else. Come on, I'll prove it."
Morgan's eyes darted toward the parking lot. Liz hadn't texted or called, and her car was still not visible. Was she even coming anymore? She sighed at the thought of possibly being stood up—but, in a way, she deserved to be ditched. To be left stranded in a place she didn't belong. Quite literally fed to the wolves. However, Liz's tardiness gave her less of an excuse to say no.
Though, she didn't want to, anyway. So, she nodded as she looked back at Jacob beside her. "Shoot your shot, tour guide."
He shook his head a little at the sarcasm in her voice, a laugh of his own coming out as he veered away from the parking lot, and Morgan walked faster to keep up with his longer strides. The sound was soft in her ears, convincing the smile to stay on her lips a little while longer. They traveled along the coastline a few minutes. Rock formations carried tide pools, while others sheltered them around their bases, and Morgan took a second to peak into each one.
Their miniature ocean was always fascinating—and not to mention adorable. Jacob took note every time she stopped. Admittedly, he'd been watching her a little too much. But how could he not? Her eyes reflected the light like softly blue jewels as she peered into the small ecosystems, pale yellow hair falling into her face as she bent, and the small smile of an apology she gave for halting the 'tour' was one of the sweetest he'd seen in a long time.
The beach, the ocean and its inhabitants, excited her and it was infectious. He began pointing things out—sea stars, hermit crabs, a moon snail or two, and the various patterns on periwinkles' shells—and the gesture was more than appreciated. Then, at a small tide pool against the rocks a distance from the parking lot, Morgan shrieked. "Jake- oh my god, look!"
She sunk her knees into the sand as she dug both hands into her bag in search of the camera. Jacob turned at the sound of his name, a grin pulling at his mouth when his eyes took in the sight of her at another tide pool. She'd stopped without warning again while he was a few steps ahead. "What'd you find?" he asked, circling back to join her at the tide pool's edge.
"Allow me to introduce you to Hermissenda crassicornis," Morgan said, as she held the camera up to her face and leaned a bit closer to the water.
Jacob crouched beside her, eyebrows risen on his forehead. "Hermissenda-what?"
"It's an opalescent sea slug," lowering the camera, she pointed at the bottom of the pool. There crawled a three-inch slug. It's body appeared jelly, as though it would bend when touched like a gummy bear, but oddly soft. The combination of blue, white, black, and red coloring was stunning so close. "I've been looking for one to star in a reference photo."
"Looks...squishy. Reference for what?" he asked, intrigue tilting his head.
Morgan adjusted her camera's settings for the lighting and size of her subject, sparing a hand only to force some hair out of her face. "I'm taking this art class in Port Angeles—the project this week is wildlife, so...slug."
She chuckled at her own words, but it was mostly spurred on by a twinge of embarrassment that rosied her cheeks from the explanation. Though, Jacob's smile held steady through every word, and the sight of it calmed her nerves as she chanced a glance in his direction. "That's cool. And I see you're into photography," he jutted his chin toward the camera in her hands in a gesture, and she nodded. "Got any other hobbies?"
"I play a few instruments," Morgan shrugged.
Jacob raised a brow in surprise. "A few?"
"Piano, guitar, cello."
Morgan lifted the camera to her face again in an attempt to subtly hide it as she answered his question. The slug's horns were in perfect view, it's porcupine-esque back of red-tipped cerata distinguishable amongst the background. Excitement gathered in her chest at the thought of developing the pictures she was taking. "Wow. You must have a lot of time on your hands," he lightheartedly jested. "Or you just really like music."
"What about you? Talents? Hobbies?" she asked, finally lowering the camera to look at him more permanently. There was a genuine curiosity behind the question, though it was also a perfect diversion from the spotlight shone on herself.
"Uh, well, I work on cars and bikes sometimes. I'm actually working on this VW Rabbit right now—it's gonna take a minute to get everything in working order, but it's nice to have a project, you know?"
Morgan stood, content with her pictures, and Jacob followed suit. "Really? What year?" she inquired, sliding her camera back into its place within the bag hanging at her left hip.
"Eighty-six," the answer rolled easily off his tongue.
"Nice. I've got an old beetle, but I can't drive it until March."
"Damn. And here I've got a whole other year to wait."
They resumed their path along the beach, falling into step easily, but Morgan's brow furrowed as she stared at him a moment. "You're fourteen?" she blinked.
"For a couple more weeks," Jacob shrugged. Then, his mouth began to slant in a smirk as he thought of his next words, "How old did you think I was?"
She shook her head, glancing out at the water with a chuckle. "I don't know. Definitely not fourteen, though. Sixteen, maybe? Let's blame it on my shitty eyesight."
"Alright," Jacob laughed.
The pair had made it halfway to the other end of the beach by the time they'd found their destination—known previously only by Jacob. It was a path between two rock formations, carved by years of erosion, leading into the rock face of the formations behind it. Jacob sidestepped onto the path with a hand gesture, urging her to follow between the rocks. "It's worth it. Come on."
"You know, if I was smart, I'd question your clearly murderous intentions," Morgan replied in jest, her sarcasm a bit dry as she took her time following the path.
The rock formations began to block out the light, providing shade, but also hiding just whatever it was he could possibly want her to see. Though, she continued forward with a hand on the rock wall to guide her in case her feet caught something unforeseeable. Jacob's chuckle at her words echoed from somewhere in the dimness. "Where would I even hide the body? The only way outta here is pretty public," he quipped, which only caused Morgan to snort.
Finally, the rock wall gave way, and her eyes adjusted to the lighting. The rock formed a kind of small cave. Through the ceiling, beams of light tore through the rough surface, illuminating the space in a soft glow. However, that wasn't what caught her eye—it was the clear and colorful lines, shading that marred the walls. There were line drawings scattered on the rock, though they looked rather new.
"Most of our art was lost in a fire in the late eighteen-hundreds, so these are fakes," Jacob clarified, gesturing toward the wall at his right. "But they're examples for visitors. And, great for storytelling."
Morgan moved closer to the wall nearest her, eyes scanning the rocky surface intently. Though, Jacob's eyes had singled her out, following her as she slowly moved along the wall. The silence was encouraging. She appeared to be taking in the artistry—and he'd hoped for a similar reaction, knowing now her artistic leanings. Still, the desire to become a mind reader had never been so strong within him, as he held his breath.
Her gaze traced the lines so gently, almost as though she were worried it could somehow damage them. It was then he realized what replica drawings she was about to see, and he took the opportunity to step forward, closing the space between them in order to reach the wall. "These drawings here tell the story of Q'waeti', a wandering shape-shifter, who—according to legend—turned the wolves he saw into the Quileute people," he explained them as he pointed a finger to gain her attention.
Morgan glanced up at him. "Really? Why wolves?"
"I'm not sure. It makes sense, though. Wolves are native to the area."
It did make sense. But all Morgan could envision were the faces of the young men that had confronted her. They were, without a doubt, wolves themselves. Was the legend true? Was it simply a way that they explained what was happening to them? She couldn't help but feel as though she were missing information. But it only fueled an interest in the subject surely bound to get her into trouble. A sudden vibration startled her, her hand flying to the pocket of her coat.
She dug out her cell phone only to find an incoming text message from Liz. Finally, a sign of life, she thought. Opening the message, she read the two words inside—I'm here—and sighed. "I'm sorry, I have to go," Morgan looked up from the device and blinked at the sight of his eyes already aimed at her. "Um, my ride is here."
Jacob nodded, a bout of disappointment within his chest. "Okay. I'll walk you back."
Truly, she wished she could spend more time. The culture was intriguing and the company was warm, but it was best that she leave as soon as possible. Already she would have to explain herself the moment Edward heard the thoughts running rampant within the walls of her mind. Thoughts she knew would stay with her long into the night. The walk back to the parking lot was quite a bit faster, having looked at everything on the journey already, but she tried her hardest to memorize it.
To capture the curve of the shoreline, the texture of the rock, and the slope of the sand. Though, most importantly, she allowed her eyes to linger on Jacob's features a little longer as she added them to the list. How could she not? The boy was truly radiant. With gentle eyes, a sweet disposition, and gorgeously warm skin. Something about the black hair that trailed over his shoulders only added to his appearance.
She knew, deep down, that their relationship could be friendly—though nothing more. It was swallowed in an attempt to forget it, even if only for just this walk, but still it poked and prodded at the back of her mind. He was accepting of her now. But he would become disgusted by her once he learned the truth, either of her or her family, and it would be unfair to pursue the attraction she felt toward him.
Jacob was magnetic, but she could learn to appreciate it from a safe distance of friendship.
