→ ฬђєгє เร ๓ץ ๓เภ๔? → norman x reader

12. so gray; so, so, complicated

♗ ♔ ♕ ♘

'ᴅᴏ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴛʀᴀɪᴛᴏʀ...?', you think as you watch Norman exit the kitchen with a cart of food for the kids. 

Everything about you is so, in between, so gray. You aren't technically good because of... well, you lie. A lot. But even so, the fact that lying is a wrongdoing is uncertain. It's not even a fact, only a claim by those who feel cheated, who claim such an act is selfish.

Even though there is darkness in your gray, amidst the even darkest part of you is light. Light and Dark make Gray, the limbo of morality.

You truly care about the people closest to you, and even though people might disagree with what your idea of 'right' is, you stand by your ideals. Even if it means you getting hurt, you are not afraid to do what is right and necessary. (Your ideals: making sure the people you care about are okay.)

You sigh, you guess that perhaps whoever may be watching over you, must think of you as a villain, an anti-hero.

Why must you play such a complicated role?

Why can't you be black and white like Norman? Or Emma?

Emma is good and Norman is kind.

Perhaps that is why you are so drawn to Norman and why Ray is so drawn to Emma. They are your light, your complete and certain. Predictable maybe, but sure and reliable.

Sometimes same isn't bad, sometimes change is just too much. Sometimes being so gray means that you need something of sameness to balance and light your constant uncertainty. The way Norman lights your's and the way Emma lights Ray's.

How funny that you and Ray are both gray, and both traitors. What a funny coincidence. Perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you and Ray are the unlucky, neutral, and complicated chosen ones. Ones chosen to carry the burden, to do what must be done, to do the right thing.

It must be fated. It must've been somewhere in the stars, you've probably read it in the stars. Because fate is sturdy and though the lives of stars are short, their presence is constant. So there is no point in fighting the stars or fate, only to make the best of the grayness you are left with. 

You wish you were like Norman and Emma, willing to fight the unfightable, wishing for the impossible, attempting to achieve the unachievable.

You don't know whether you are smarter or dumber than them for being the way you are.

You look to Ray, and decide that maybe speaking isn't the smartest thing to do.

'Ray,' you whisper.

'This is how we're gonna talk?'

'Yes.'

'Okay then, you have some explaining to do. First, you say you want them to stay and you'll help me, and then you say to them that you won't do anything, and then you say you'll help. So. What is it really that you are trying to do Y/N?'

You chuckle, 'Oh Ray, so straightforward. I was just... making myself seem less suspicious. And I know for a fact that they don't suspect me as much as they used to. I'll say it worked.'