𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕎𝕚𝕤𝕙 - 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚣𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝒯𝒽ℯ ℱ𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝒯ℴ 𝒦𝓃ℴ𝓌

It's been about a week since Alex moved in with Morgan, and it's been about three since Caroline Reznick passed away.

The only person that knows is Alex since he's moved in. She told him how the seizures came back and the malformations got worse, and after refusing certain care (Morgan's initial idea) it got so severe there wasn't much more they could do.

It was a blatant conversation, Park could tell Morgan wasn't as shaken up about her mother's death as Claire was. Which reminded him that Claire was in a similar situation once, and suggested she went to her about Caroline's recent death.

Of course, she didn't. She wouldn't bother Claire like that or risk bringing up any memories about Breeze's death. And frankly, she didn't feel the need to talk to someone about it, it only annoyed her more when Alex pestered her.

Well, it was that and the million other things Alex disturbed her about, like how she didn't close the cupboard doors in the kitchen. She doesn't understand why he does it so much and proceed to fight back with the knowledge of 'You're going to open it again anyways,' whenever she bothers to lecture him about it

Also, the fact he gapes at how big the house is every time he walks through the doors, which she actually isn't too bothered by; more so smug but nonetheless it got old about the fifth time.

That's probably one of the main reasons she doesn't bother showing him the rest of the house, which really only consisted of three more rooms but Morgan wasn't quite ready yet.

-

"What happened to your arm?" Morgan looked down and noticed the but of paint above her elbow Alex pointed to. "Is that blood?" She could hear the 'big brother' concern creeping up in his voice.

The closer she looked at it, she could understand why he thought it was blood. It was originally a brown but it had a bit of a crimson undertone, or maybe it was orange. Whatever it was, it still looked like dried-up blood.

"Uh, no it's..." She paused for a second, from what Alex knows, Morgan absolutely hates art, which isn't necessarily wrong but this was different. "It's paint,"

She picked at it to avoid the former cop's confused gaze, the sting from the dried-up bits pulling tiny hairs from her skin taking her mind off the situation entirely.

"Why were you painting?" Morgan let out a small huff, "Why would it matter?" She surprised even herself by the overdone hostility in her tone.

"I'm assuming this has something to do with your mother's death," Morgan finally met his eyes with a harsh glare. "No," It would be more convincing if the 'former cop' wasn't actually a former cop.

"Considering you got quite defensive about it when I asked, and the fact that you've been avoiding my gaze since I pointed out the paint, I'd say you were lying just then."

busted.

"It's just paint." She raised an eyebrow at the over-the-top yet accurate accusation. "Fine then. What were you painting?"

That's when she froze even more. It wasn't anything weird, but without an explanation... Well, it would seem unusual.

The truth was, it was because of her mother's death. And despite how much Morgan wanted to brush Caroline's disappearance to the side and get on with her life, it was hard.

Losing your mother was more difficult than she had originally thought, even if she didn't like her as a mother all that much; she had to hand it to Claire (and a ton of patients).

"A painting. I was just painting, I don't see why you're so interested."

-

Alex wasn't exactly sure how he got her to fold -and to be fair neither was Morgan- but he found himself getting lead to where Morgan had previously come from.

He walked into yet, another room he didn't know was in this house, and was met wide-eyed with a giant portrait (or at least one in progress) of his best friend.

He looked around some more and found more pieces of paper and paint swatches of the younger doctor's newfound crush obsession.

"...Claire?" Alex stayed silent for a second, surprised at the numerous sketches of their co-worker sprawled throughout the room.

And the fact that there is yet another room to this pretty-much-a-mansion

His eyes laid on what Morgan said was a notebook on a table to the side. She brought it to work a lot more frequently, she 'wrote' more in it too, Alex could only suspect it was a sketchbook instead.

Which, he was right, but Morgan would lock him in the basement and never let him see the light of day again if he ever went behind her back to look at the inside of it.

Not that he was complaining though, even he had to admit, Morgan Reznick's basement was extremely well furnished.

"Yeah," She responded to Parks previously forgotten question, more like something he just said out of udder awe and confusion.

"It's all just... Claire?" He said, yet again not really looking for an answer. This time a whisper, Morgan let out another automated response.

"Why are you painting Claire?" He looked to her, this time genuinely wondering what her acknowledgment would be.

Morgan thought back to some of the moments with her mother.

-

"She has beautiful eyes doesn't she?" Caroline looked over to her daughter as Claire left the room. "Mhm," she briefly hummed in response.

Oh, she definitely has beautiful eyes.

"It's pretty obvious you like her..." This time, Morgan let out a higher-pitched hum -more so a squeak but she has a reputation- in response to the call out.

-

The time she told Claire someone should paint her eyes. Frankly, Morgan didn't want to be the one to paint them, or anything for that matter, but once she thought about it more, there wasn't anything else she'd rather paint.

It was simply just easier, maybe more calming, to draw the brunette than some fruit bowl she was forced to achieve in high school.

Maybe it was the way her beautiful skin looked golden in the light, maybe it was the creativity of exploring different ways to paint her hair, could've just been staring at pictures of one of the most gorgeous women she's ever met all day long.

Nonetheless, Morgan felt that if this was anyone else she wouldn't have taken up on the offer.

Only for Claire would she draw hundreds of portraits.