Liam Roberts is an (author) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-03-03 11:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | curt connors, huntress |
Who: Liam & Morgan
What: A friendly meeting
Where: Local Vegas coffee shop
When: Backdated to before plot at some point
Warnings/Rating: None really
The cafe was a small place with a dedicated clientele, their coffee rich, real, and full of flavor, lacking many of the over-the-top add-ons that many franchises were adding, and that was just the way that Liam preferred it. He had arrived around a quarter til one, enough time to settle in to a table and get himself something to drink, and perhaps by the time that Morgan showed up, the butterflies currently making his stomach roll would be settled and he could actually think without flashing back to everything Tristan-related. He was dressed in comfortable clothes, worn in jeans, a blue t-shirt with a faded logo on the front, and a dark green jacket over it all. Dark hair was still wet from his shower, clinging to the back of his neck and curling around his ears slightly. There was a certain nervous energy clinging to him, fingers tapping, knee bouncing, because as hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep the anxiety he was feeling right then from showing itself in his every breath and move.
Talking about it with Seven, Liam had thought that this was a good idea, but sitting here with everything so close just made it feel more real than he was ready for. He’d go through with it, one way or another, but getting to that point of comfort was turning into something more difficult than he had anticipated. Safe words. The promise to stop if it was too much. It was more than Tristan had ever given him, because when they had played, or whatever it was you wanted to call those evenings at the Ranch and the Garden, it had always been by her rules. He had had no say, and Liam was starting to realise now that wasn’t how things were supposed to go. New rules, new experiences, perhaps something to chase away all the bad things that had happened. There was a lot that could go right, but Liam was all too aware of how quickly things could go wrong as well.
Shifting in his seat, Liam pulled out the iPhone that served as his journal, checking the time. Just a few minutes before one, which meant that Morgan would be arriving any time. Tucking it back away, Liam tried to relax even as those blue eyes of his scanned the shop for anyone that might fit this woman he was meeting. Green. She had said she would be in green, so that was what he focused on.
Morgan didn't know the full details of what had happened between Liam and Tristan, but she knew that things hadn't gone the way they should. For the young man to not know about safewords -- that was a red flag. On the other hand, finding him now before he found himself embroiled with another predator was a good thing. At the very least, he could learn how things were supposed to be done.
Leaving her long hair down, she dressed in green as she said she would. And, since she wasn't planning on doing a lot of walking, a pair of sand colored heels went on. Her cell phone and wallet were thrown into a small, sand colored clutch before she left the house. Her house. There was still something warm and new in that statement, almost like when she had first gotten married and she could call Tomas her husband.
Her husband, her ex-husband would hate her doing this. He liked his women subservient. Morgan smiled, lips against her teeth as she strode down the street and into the coffee shop. It wasn't her usual place, but that wasn't going to stop her from getting something, particularly if she arrived first. Stepping inside, she lowered her sunglasses and looked around for a man fitting his description. Blue shirt, dark green jacket. And there he was. She smiled as she tucked her sunglasses into her clutch and walked over to him, heels clicking on the stone floor. "Liam?"
It was the sound of the heels on the stone floor that drew his attention, and as Morgan approached, Liam got up to his feet. Growing up where he did, he had been raised with respect for other women, opening doors, getting up to say hello. His hands were slipped in his pockets as he ducked his head in greeting, offering her a small smile that was all nerves and did nothing to hide the anxiety he was feeling, the anxiety that was spiking even now. “Morgan?” he asked, his voice a soft Southern drawl that he still hadn’t shook in nearly a year living in the desert. A moment of fumbling and he drew one hand from his pocket, offering it to her. “A pleasure.” At least he wanted to pretend it was, even as his stomach fluttered with all the nerves he was experiencing.
Him standing up for her was a good thing in her mind and she smiled warmly at him as she shook his offered hand. "Likewise." Was there something about this place that drew men with such blue eyes? If that was a requirement for the hotel, she certainly couldn't fault it for making such a shallow determination, even if she normally didn't approve of such appearance based decisions. "Have you been waiting long?" Morgan asked before she spent too much time focusing on those pretty eyes.
After giving her hand a firm shake, Liam gestured for her to sit before taking his own seat once more, knee bouncing for a moment before he forced himself to sit still, winding his hands around his coffee cup. Where Tristan had been a play of light and shadow, extremes on both ends of the spectrum, Morgan was easier to look at. Curves and a warm smile, it was enough to ease some of his anxieties as he ran his thumbs up the side of his cup. “Not long. I arrived a bit early, I must admit. Fifteen minutes? Something along those lines.” Lips pressed together for a moment, and then Liam shifted to the side, drawing a folded piece of paper from his pocket which he passed across the table towards her. “I thought I’d bring it with me instead of emailing it back. I hope you don’t mind.”
Nervous, Morgan noted. Not in that paranoid way, where people were constantly casting a glance around as if they were doing something wrong, but a different type of nerves. Given what she knew of his past experience with Tristan, she wasn't surprised. "Not at all," she said, offering him another warm smile as she placed her hand on the paper, not picking it up, not reading it for the moment. Her hands laced together over it instead as she settled into her chair, legs crossing under the table. "Thank you," she added politely. Given his nervousness, she wasn't going to ask him about the contents of the paper. "How is your day going?"
There was something about the fact that she didn’t immediately do anything with the paper that Liam took as a comfort. As the moments of their meeting ticked by, he could tell more and more that there were few similarities between her and Tristan, and he never found himself so grateful for that than he did right then. “It’s been an interesting few weeks,” he responded honestly, his shoulders sinking down slightly as some of the tension leaked away. “Today has been better than some, so I’ll take what I can get. It’s better than demanding more than the world is willing to offer you.” Liam’s gaze dipped towards the table for a moment, searching over the cup of coffee that was cooling in front of him. A long sip was taken before he settled it back on the table, fingers drumming for a moment and then he was standing again. “Can I get you something to drink? My treat?” he offered, gesturing towards the coffee bar only a few yards from where they sat.
"I can second that," Morgan said wryly, smiling, but unlike him, she was a picture of ease, her shoulders loose and settled. It had been a whirlwind few weeks. First, having Helena and trying to find some balance between her life and the life the young woman needed to have. All of that while trying to find a house and a place here for her own -- the days had passed quickly. "I'd love something. A cinnamon cappuccino, please." It didn't matter to her if she was supposed to have the upper hand or not -- there was nothing wrong with being polite and there were a great many things right with it. "Thank you, Liam."
A nodded response was his initial answer as he moved over towards the coffee bar, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, relaying her order to the barista. Not so many minutes later, Liam returned with a wide mug of the cinnamon cappuccino, the sweet scent filling the air as he sat the mug down in front of her and took his own seat once more. “So,” Liam began, folding his hands together atop the table, and it was clear by his very posture that he was more relaxed, much of the tension drained from his shoulders, leaving him more as he was in his day to day. Morgan was nothing like Tristan, at least not in the ways that made his blood run cold. She still had an intimidating air about her, but he supposed all women in this profession had to have that, at least slightly. But with that air of power came one of confidence and capability; he had only known her for a matter of days and yet he felt some amount of trust towards her, and lately? That trust did not come easily from the thirty-something.
"So," she repeated, smiling as she took the cup from him, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Thank you, Liam." He appeared a bit more at ease now than he had earlier, his shoulders a bit more loose, Morgan observed. She wouldn't comment on it -- that wasn't her role here. There were times, yes, when she thought about climbing into the minds of her clients to learn more about them, to see what made them tick, but she wasn't their doctor. It wasn't her place. Her place was here, now, flesh instead of thought. "You've included all the things you've done previously on this?" She asked, her hand over the folded piece of paper that was his checklist and she was careful not to say Tristan's name.
Liam wrapped his hands back around his own cup, taking a long drink before he gave a nod of his head in response. “I haven’t done much,” he admitted after he swallowed. “But it’s as complete as I can recall, yes.” It was strange to be discussing these things here, where anyone could be listening or watching. Though even that had the corner of his mouth turning up in a half-smile. “Sorry,” Liam apologised a moment later, wiping at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “I was just thinking what other people might say if they knew what we were discussing here.” It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by any of it, but he was new to this sort of thing and the conversations that came along with it. Tristan had been all about doing, not talking or exploring, and this was uncharted territory for him. Doing it in a place as mundane as this coffee shop just added to the absurdity.
That finally earned a wide smile from Morgan and a laugh, her head thrown back at the way he said it. He wasn't blushing, there was no embarrassed head duck, but only a simple honesty that left her giggling. And if it drew attention -- she didn't care. "It could be worse, darling," she said, voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper as she lifted her cup to take a sip. "We could be talking about whether or not you enjoy wearing women's undergarments and whether you preferred to be called pig or worm," she winked. Liam didn't seem to be the type, but she'd been surprised before and would no doubt be surprised again at some point in the future.
There was something about her conspiratorial tone, that glint in her eyes, and the wink when she had finished that struck Liam mute for several moments, his brows slowly lifting in silent question at what she had just said. It wasn’t what she said that made his stomach twist over on itself, but the way in which she had said it. He closed his eyes for a moment, let out a breath that wasn’t nearly as steady as he would have preferred, and then followed it up with a long sip of coffee, finally opening his eyes to look back towards her. “I do hope that neither of those are in the plans for this afternoon,” Liam commented, and he hoped that his inclusion of the words ‘this afternoon’ would lead to this being taken outside of the coffee shop. There was only so much discussion that could be done in public, he felt.
It was the sudden reaction, the way he sucked in that breath that had Morgan realizing she overstepped a bit with her playfulness. "Oh, darling, I am teasing you, unless you prefer any of that, in which case we can talk about it later, yes?" She asked quietly, trying to give her best reassuring smile. If he looked a little less spooked, she might have reached out to him, but she thought that might send him sprinting for the door. "How about something a little less charged?" She asked as she reached for her own cup and took a sip. "Did I hear a hint of an accent earlier?"
The smile that was meant to be reassuring had the desired effect on the young man, some of the tension draining from his shoulders, his stomach settling, and he actually managed a small smile in response. “No, I don’t particularly prefer any of that,” Liam said honestly, because it wasn’t about humiliation with him in the slightest. No, it was control, domination, things that he was still trying to figure out why he enjoyed. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, watching as she took a sip, following in suit a moment later before he gave a small nod in response to her question. “It’s faded, some, but yes. I grew up in Mississippi. My mama still lives down there, and she always comments how my accent’s turning into something other than Southern.” Liam laughed at that, hearing it all in his mama’s voice, though he knew that she was glad he had gotten out of that dirty little town and made something of himself.
"Oh?" She asked, perking up a little as he mentioned the deep south. Morgan had only gone once or twice since they'd left New Orleans, but she remembered it fondly. Though by the time she had gone back, she'd outgrown the rest of the south, or at least, that was how it felt. Old ghosts were there, just like in every major city across Europe, but they were still crippled by them, far more fond of what had been than what was or what could be. "I grew up in New Orleans before my mother moved us to Toronto." It had been quite the change then, trading in muggy summers for bitter winters, but Morgan had adapted as she was wont to do. Whatever accent she had was long gone, softened and tempered by life and travel. "I have fond memories of it."
“It’s a good place to grow up. I like to think that I might move back there some day. Maybe not home, but somewhere nearby. Simple place, simple lives. I miss that.” Liam let out a long breath, finishing off the rest of his coffee before pushing the cup aside. “So,” he began, considerably more relaxed than he had been in the beginning, less skittish cat and more relaxed lapdog. His leg no longer bounced, his fingers no longer tapped a nervous rhythm on the table. “Where do we go from here? I’m simply curious.”
"Well," Morgan started as she leaned back in her chair, legs crossed under the table. "First I want to review what you've given me, make sure there isn't anything that I'm unwilling or unable to do." There was very little she was unable to do, but there were certain things she wasn't going to entertain. "I don't think there will be, but I like to be sure. After that," she paused, considering for a moment. She didn't often tell her clients everything that would happen, but in his case, Morgan thought it might help. "I'll email you with things that I'd like to try before you come out to the Gardens."
Liam was quiet for a long while as she laid out how things would progress in the days and weeks that followed. It made sense in a way that surprised him, and it was a testament to how poor his initial introduction into these things that politeness and a professional attitude could surprise him. “That sounds... good. I like this,” Liam finally said. He drew in a deep breath and released it, and then, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I have to say that I like how professional you are about this. Natural. Normal. It’s not what I imagined, but this attitude... it’s. It’s what I need.” A pause as he glanced down, the smile warming slightly. “Thank you.” And he meant that honestly, without hesitation.
Once again, she wondered about what his initial introduction had been like, beyond the general sense that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. She also had a feeling that she'd learn the full truth of it sooner or later and she was fine waiting until Liam was ready to tell her the whole story. "You're welcome," she said with a warm smile. "If it goes too fast, let me know." She would slow down for him but wouldn't move faster, even at his request. There was no desire, nor need, to rush into things.
There was another nod as he took in what she said in response, and the answer, it was as everything else she had said. It was what he needed to hear. Things had progressed at a frightening rate with Tristan, at a rate he hadn’t been prepared for in the slightest, so slow? Slow as good. Needed. Perhaps even required. “You’ll be the first to know if something happens too fast,” he responded quietly, dropping his gaze back to the top of the table after he had chanced a look towards her and the smile on her face.
She didn't tell him that she would be fine being the second, so long as he was the first. How could she expect him to tell her if he was not the first to know? The tip of her finger ran along the handle of her coffee cup before it hooked around and she brought it back to her lips. "Good. Now tell me something you did enjoy. It doesn't have to be sexual or even painful, but something that doesn't invoke fear."
Was this how it was supposed to be? Catering to the things that he enjoyed as well? Tristan had made it seem like it was about her, what she wanted to give, what she was willing to give, and it was up to him to suffer through it. But not Morgan. Not even in the slightest. Her question brought back memories, not all pleasant, but Liam was determined to push through with this conversation; healing came with talking about things, not letting them hold him back, right?
Liam leaned back in his chair, pushing a hand back through hair that was in need of a haircut, considering her question carefully. What had he enjoyed? Truly enjoyed, that was. He worried at his lip for a while, pondering, thinking hard over it before he answered, and as he did, not a thought was given to the people that littered the coffee shop, the ones that might overhear this conversation and look at him strangely. “The lack of control,” he finally answered, his voice quiet and polite. “Letting go for a while, letting someone else take the reigns, so to speak.” It was an admission, one that was hard to voice. It wasn’t that Liam was repressed, but these weren’t the things he talked about on a regular basis.
She considered it for a moment and then nodded simply, the movement bringing a few wild tendrils of dark hair over her shoulder. "Then we may start there, if that's a place you feel comfortable." There were things they could do, things that wouldn't push past his comfort level. Eventually she knew they would, but when he was ready, not before. Her lips curved into a smile and she reached out to give his hand a light squeeze. Touch was comforting and she had a feeling that he might need that.
He found himself nodding in agreement with her words, a breath released because having it out there, even that little confession, made everything that much easier to deal with. When she reached out to give his fingers a squeeze, Liam turned his hand over towards her, returning the hold. He’d have to remember to thank Sam for the gift, for letting him know about this woman. Things might not have been good at times, but this felt like a step in the right direction.