* THIS IS NOT A DREAM

[ ✉ // morgan zatara ] MORGAN!!!

[ ✉ // morgan zatara ] someone’s gonna have to punch me in the throat because i just screamed

[ ✉ // morgan zatara ] i love it already! i can’t wait to see you and wear this charm! 💞

[ text → ✉ → Son and Only ]: still! [ text → ✉ → Son and Only ]: oh, yeah? what’s wrong?                                         …    …    …  [ text → ✉ → Son and Only ]: come by and chat whenever, i don’t want to hide anything from you

[ text → ✉ → M. ZATARA. ]: what do you want?

[ text → ✉ → M. ZATARA. ]: perhaps i would have no need to ignore you if you were not infuriating  [ text → ✉ → M. ZATARA. ]: mind your own business. [ text → ✉ → M. ZATARA. ]: if i have need for you, i shall call.

@divineruinaticn “alright handsome i know your in there so open up,” addy called after knocking on morgan’s dorm room door. there’s a bag of takeout clasped in her other hand. they did this a lot, going to the other when they need to, the male was one of the few places she could run when things were proving to be just a little too much. out of nearly everyone at paragon she had known him the longest. two whole years was not a short amount of time. “you would not believe the day i’ve had,”

HOURS had passed since the lockdown and only then had gemma walker recognized the fallacy that was the supposed brightness of the bookstore  .  she’d only recently been informed of the blackout which accounted for her tablet’s malfunction  ,  her video games being rendered inept  ,  and her cellphone practically fried  .  but the cipher noticed not the cloak of blackness apparently lulling paragon to slumber  .  adaptable eyes are all seeing  ,  then  ,  trained and calculated to assess the body language of those around her  ,  even in moon dust  .  the onus thus falls onto select professors and administrative staff to tend to the needs of their group and  ,  gemma doesn’t mind  ,  really  .  caring not for others nor having them mull about her  .  she’s always been the independent type  ,  disappearing with no forewarning  ,  venturing on escapades by her lonesome  .   she’s long since befriended danger  ,  the exhilaration nothing more than morning sunlight that muffles the apparent darkness and doom around them  .   

still she notices  ,  and she understands  .  hands scribbling a rough draft of this week’s news article for her column cease in recognition of a male figure in the corner signing profanities to himself  .  peculiar  .  and oh  ,  how gemma loves the peculiar  .  «  you’re very right about that  ,  »   she hums in singsong tone  ,  signing her translation at the same time   (   whatever good that’ll do  ,  unless he  ,  too  ,  can see in the dark  .   )   «  hey  ,  by the way .  i’m gemma  !  »  she pauses to articulate each letter  ,  offers a bright grin as she returns to two handed signing  .  «  mind if i sit  ?  seems you’re not enjoying yourself too much  .  thought i could offer you some company  ,  and  ,  oh  !  i can see in the dark  ,  so feel free to sign back  .    »

morgan’s signing to himself is stopped short as a voice calls out to the darkness. he had managed to find himself an isolated corner, away from everyone else, so he has no assumption the voice is speaking to anyone else. the trilling in the back of his head grows louder. he presses it down, eyes straining into the darkness as a figure approaches. female. she’s talking and, if he squints--- oh. she’s signing. morgan’s bad mood dissipates just slightly, relief budding up inside him at the prospect of being understood by someone else here. at not being effectively silenced for the entirety of this lock-down. gemma. he doesn’t know the name but he’ll accept the company. someone to distract him from the humming in his veins and mind. fuck. she can even see in the dark. what the hell is this? it’s perfect.

i’m not deaf. he quickly signs back, before catching himself. she knows asl but she’s not deaf or mute from the way she speaks as she signs--- so he’s not sure how well she knows it. i’m mute. he makes a quick slashing motion at his throat, face dark, before gesturing beside himself. go ahead. thanks. he closes the book he had been flipping through out of politeness and presses back on the need for power that’s been rising in his head since he’s seen her. there’s so much power around him. the parasite is getting restless.

           morgan was pissed. that was the easiest way to describe it. he was pissed because he was separated from his mother and stuck in a confined space where he was expected to SLEEP. sleep surrounded by all these people that power rolled off in droves. pissed because there was noise in the back of his head, an itch he couldn’t get rid of and was driving him MAD. pissed because his phone wasn’t working so he had no way to communicate with anyone who didn’t understand asl. pissed because the small amount of light from flashlights and candles didn’t make it the easiest to catch his hand signs in the dark. fuck this, honestly. if someone was sneaking in to murder everyone--- let them come for him. he was so angry with everything right now he didn’t care. 

me: *moans “i’ll kill you” during sex*