The Sweet Before the Sour (Della)

[morgan]

Evening (for twilight is now a ruined word) was setting over the world as Morgan settled himself, cross-legged on a stone overlooking the lake. A beautiful, pink sunset stretched across the sight as he leaned back and feasted his eyes on the sight above. It was truly beautiful to behold, even for a man who knew what beauty was, but sometimes couldn't make sense of it on first sight. A few minutes passed as the King of Ireland's Son sat, a slight breeze catching his dark hair for a moment as he listened to the sounds of ducks at the water's edge and birds singing bedtime stories. He smiled to himself before stretching out on his back to look up at the sky, his arms behind his head.

Life was good.

We've all had that feeling, where everything is sweet and nothing in the world seems wrong; where everything is sweet and right with life and just when it couldn't possibly get any better, it does. That was how Morgan felt just then. Calmly elated. A slight, but blissful smile crossed his handsome face and he lay there, completely at peace with the world.

[Deleted]

If there was one thing Della tried her best to avoid forgetting, it was how well nature worked to keep things in perspective. Of course there were cases when she was feeling so down (last fall came to mind, and still puzzled the hell out of her) that it didn't work. Thankfully, for once, things were feeling fairly normal. Rook was sniffing around the lake and Della was keeping a sharp eye on the little over a year old puppy. She had learned the hard way that the silly thing loved swimming, and she wasn't quite in the mood for making sure he didn't go out too far. Not that she hadn't found last time slightly hilarious when she had dried off properly. A slight smile even crossed her face at the thought. It could never be said that Della took herself too seriously, she supposed.

However, in spite of that, she did take certain aspects of her social life seriously. Wanting to get Humperdinck out of the picture was certainly part of that. Just as important, however, was the fact that she refused to accept being lied to.

So when her eyes found a certain prince that had done such a lovely job of pretending to not be last year, she pressed her lips together. Oh, she was still pretty annoyed with the realization that her supposed "true love" had sunk so low as to take advantage of her amnesia, but other issues had risen to the occasion. So many that she had almost cooled down. Besides, she now had a theory that, if she was right, that basically made this guy the most conniving person she had ever heard of and she was pretty much legally required to not hate the prat.

She let out a sigh, whistling so that Rook would know to stay faithfully at her heels, and she clipped the leash back on him. It wasn't like she was going to tell the dog to bite him or anything....this was just to remove the temptation just in case. And who knew? Maybe Rook naturally disliked liars. Dogs were good like that.

"You seem pretty comfortable," she noted, keeping her tone as nonconfrontational as possible.

[morgan]

He was indeed very comfortable. His body felt heavy against the rocks, which he found much more snuggle-worthy than he had first anticipated. He had at first entertained himself well by gazing up at the darkening sky, but as the sky got darker, the air balmier and the sounds of nature more serene, Morgan's eyelids began to droop, until they closed completely. From there, it was merely a matter of moments before his breathing slowed and became deep and regular and he drifted off to sleep.

It was one of those short, half-formed dreams that hinted that they were going to go into being deep and profound, but that didn't have time to develop, as minutes later, a familiar female voice jolted him out of his doze.

"You seem pretty comfortable."

He craned his neck to peer blearily at her, yawned and felt his entire body twitch at the sight of her. Inexplicably, he loved everything about her. He smiled and sat up, running a hand through his elegantly shaggy hair so it fell annoying back the way he had styled it, not a hair out of place.

"Aye." He agreed. "Want to sit down?" He patted the spot next to him, then remembered something.

"Happy birthday."

[Deleted]

Maybe Della should've felt a little bad upon realizing the guy was trying to catch a doze, but for once, empathy wasn't too much of an issue. Again, she wasn't going to try to kick the guy's ass or anything, at least not yet. Before she even went to threatening him, she figured that he at least deserved the chance to explain himself. Why she was being so merciful when she was usually the type who didn't tolerate lying? Even she couldn't tell you.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rook sat down, tilting his head down at Morgan before sniffing the general area around him and she rolled her eyes. "Rook, stop bothering him," she playfully scolded before he offered to let her sit down. Seeing as she could probably get some answers out of him just as easily, perhaps even more easily, than from where she stood, she nodded her thanks and settled down and let Rook sit at her feet so she could scratch his ears, just in time for another surprise.

Arching an eyebrow towards him, she then let her gaze move towards the lake. "Huh, thank you. Didn't expect you to remember that, Morgan," she answered nonchalantly, but when she looked back at him, she was pretty sure he'd realize that he was, for lack of a better word, trapped.

[morgan]

He flashed her a smile. A real smile. One of those signature Morgan grimance-smiles, like his mouth didn’t really know what it was doing before he set his head back on his hands, which were linked behind his head. “I’ve got a good memory.” He explained, as he closed his eyes and set his jaw, the evening light playing across his face. He was already a gorgeous man and he knew this, beyond the shadow of a doubt, but when he was lit like this, he looked prettier, more faery than human.

For awhile, he allowed his mind to wander. He enjoyed the silence. For awhile, he allowed his life to just stay contented in the lull. He allowed himself to make-believe that they were lovers, here to watch the sun go down together, in perfect harmony, that the whole thing with Dodge and the “true love’s first kiss” had never happened. He imagined what it might feel like to have her head snuggled against his chest, his fingers gently running through her hair…

“So…number eighteen, right? Doing anything special to celebrate?” He reached out his hand to the dog who had been the puppy he had given her anonymously, letting him sniff his hand before he ruffled his fur.