Chapter Text
The painting has driven Morgan crazy these past few days. She can't quite get it. The watercolour is challenging to work with… yet something about the colours, the transparency, the layers, the softness and the brush strokes attracted her. Morgan sighed. It was morning once again, and I barely got a wink of sleep.
This woman has taken over her thoughts. May it be her dreams and waking moments. Morgan busies herself with tidying up her things. Nothing is worse than a stiff brush; what a waste of money.
Morgan was exhausted. These past few days have been hectic. She had just finished her plates and had been running on 5 mugs of coffee that night. She may or may not have drunk the watercolour water once or twice…again. Tastes strangely of something savoury. It made her stomach churn unpleasantly.
Morgan takes the quickest shower of her life. It's too early to let Steve lecture her on punctuality. She can only take so much before she explodes. Morgan quickly looks around, smiling softly at her half-finished painting. Oil would be nice, too. Maybe next paycheck.
It was past morning rush in the cafe, and Morgan sulked. Her gaze fixed steadily on the door, hoping the woman would come in again. This time, she would really ask for her name. But she did not come.
Sam patted her on the back. "I am beginning to think this woman is a figment of your imagination." Sam teased. Morgan's eyes have been fixed on the door for the past few hours. Willing someone to come in.
Morgan lets out a deep sigh, forcing herself to turn away from the door. "It's not that- I… I'm just checking if the lunch hour is over."
Sam smiled at her knowingly. "I know you. You've been talking my ear off about this woman."
Morgan sighed. "I can't believe I didn't get her name."
Sam chuckled.
As soon as her shift ended, Morgan quickly changed out of her uniform and waved to Sam as she exited the coffee shop. She must arrive on time, not when it's free seating. She should get her spot in her Anthro class.
Morgan frowned at the contents of the letter. Poppy seemed so sad, and Morgan wished she could reach out and comfort her, but the best she could do was write a flimsy letter.
To the mysterious Poppy, keeper of my sketchbook.
Lately, you've been down. I want to know how to cheer you up. How can I help? Sometimes, we cannot help but put ourselves on a pedestal. I cannot pretend to know what you're facing, Poppy. I can only offer my support. I want you to know that someone out here is rooting for you.
I have barely gotten enough sleep these days. Between school and work, I barely have enough time to complete what has consumed my thoughts for the past few days. That is to say, you also consume my thoughts. Your letters are something I look forward to.
So… What's your favourite colour? I realize… You've told me a lot, but I do not know the simplest things about you. I hope you don't mind.
PS I attached a drawing of my cat to cheer you up. I do miss him despite him being a spawn of hell.
- Morgan
Morgan attached a quick drawing of her cat, the orange devil, back on the farm. She folds the letter over and slips it inside the desk compartment. It's such a pity that the weekend has ended, and now she has to focus in class. No time at all this week to focus on the drawing she's making.
Morgan stood up after class and approached her professor. "Hey, Ms Kingsley. Do you know who sits on my desk in your other classes? Poppy?"
Kingsley looked at her. "I don't have a Poppy in my class. Not that I remember." Kingsley smiled apologetically.
Morgan chuckled at Poppy's audacity, using a fake name. But she'd let her. After all, this is an innocent letter exchange. It was fun having someone to talk to. Someone who cannot judge her at first sight.
She found herself looking forward to Anthro class. Early as can be sitting in her seat, just to swipe her hand under the desk and light up at Poppy's letter. Morgan hoped no one noticed how she smiled when she read the letter.
Morgan shakes her head. Shaking off the thoughts of the woman on the other side of the letters. What was she like?
Dearest Artist, Morgan,
There is a hole in my heart that could never be filled. I'm sorry to burden you with my personal feelings. But as such… are the burdens of an only child. Just your letters are enough to brighten up my day… So thank you for not being tired of me yet.
Colour… What an interesting question. You could have asked about anything, but you chose this super hard one, heh.
I couldn't live without pink. I can imagine you rolling your eyes at the girliness of the colour, but it calms me. It reminds me of sunsets when the sky is coloured pink and blue. Always reminds me of good times when I was free to play under the sun.
Your cat is adorable. I cannot accept that this angelic-looking creature would be equated to a devil you so warmly call it. Thank you, though; it made me smile. I love animals as well… I used to dream of owning my own shelter one day. This is what I hope won't be an unrealized passion of mine. I am determined to make it come true.
It's only fair to ask you a question as well. What's your favourite song?
Poppy
Morgan smiled when she got the letter. Morgan smoothed over the paper and put it in her bag. Morgan couldn't help but conjure an image of who this Poppy is. Morgan is sure she isn't like the spoiled and arrogant kids in Belvoire well as much as she's seen.
Ms Kingsley's research was fascinating. A hierarchy in school is a recipe for disaster, but. She digress. She hoped Poppy was unlike the entitled kids in Belvoir. She seemed kind.
Dearest Poppy,
I am sorry to hear that… I wish in whatever capacity I can bridge the gap in your heart. I, too, have grown fond of our exchanges. I hope you don't get tired of me. Your letters have become an integral part of my day. Dare I say the most exciting part of it. You can always tell me anything that burdens you. People say I'm a good listener. Well… reader in your case.
I won't judge your favourite colour! You got me wrong on that one. It's nice that you love the sunset. I myself am a lover of the sunrise. I love the blues in the sky as it grows brighter. I am ashamed to say that I stare at it for too long as the blues become lighter, and I also become late for class on maybe one or two or… a lot of occasions. I can imagine you as an animal lover… well, you're kind enough to write back to a complete stranger. I wouldn't assume otherwise.
Favourite song, huh? So you want to get to know me really deeply, haha. Right now, it's "You make loving fun." Something about it is that I can feel the magic. I've never been in love, but I can imagine…. I've seen the movies and heard the songs… By far, it's my favourite way to describe what love is supposed to feel like.
For my next question, what is your favourite drink? I bet I can make it. I am awesome that way.
With endless fascination,
Morgan
Poppy smiled at the neat way Morgan wrote her letters. It starts off stiff, then becomes loopy as Morgan is excited to write something. She must admit, there is a growing pile of letters and sketches in one of her drawers. Poppy's eyes softened at the song. She'll for sure find the song and listen to it later. Poppy quickly pockets the letter as her friends approached, not wanting to be in the middle of another teasing session.
Veronica raised her eyebrows at the way Poppy pocketed something so fast. She did not comment and just handed her her drink from one of the coffee shops near campus, "Pour Decisions." Their signature drink that Poppy loved. They said some alumni made it when they were working there, and that's become the signature drink since then.
It's a witty name and nice coffee. Poppy only came in once or twice since she came to Belvoire. She couldn't find herself coming in when the barista she wished to see wasn't there. The barista never seems to be there. Poppy couldn't believe she didn't get her name.