#( interaction: harrison ft. caroline )

[awalkoflife-arc]

continued from ( x ) with @seesgood / carrison.

there's no way he could have prepared for this, the welcome home from her that's somehow a culmination of every single emotion he's felt in her absence. ❝ care, you don't understand --- ❞ he pauses, chokes a little on the words that he can't bring himself to say yet. she's touching him and it's like their bodies are trying to reconnect; to make up for all the time that's been lost, a collision of fingertips and palms, gripping and pulling and stroking, fighting to feel each other again. whether or not they can admit it though, they aren't those kids anymore. he isn't safe to be around her and deep down, it's something that he's always known. harrison morgan was a ticking fucking time bomb. all of that rage and fury and frustration, the desire for violent confrontation, managed effectively by wrestling, it evolved into something much, much worse. ❝ you don't know --- ❞ what i've done. who i am. how fucked up my life is. how could he even begin to tell her? how was he supposed to look her in the eyes and confess to being a monster?

burying the truth is something he'll have to live with for now because in this moment, he doesn't possess the strength to push her away. he never has. he can't let go of her, his body won't physically allow it so he succumbs to her. to the warmth of her hands, the delicate press of her hips against his, the way her hug is managing to comfort him in ways he hasn't experienced since they last found themselves in close proximity like this. harrison's arms pull her closer, his heartbeat rising in his chest when the scent of her skin, her perfume, washes over him in waves. ❝ c'mere. ❞ he wraps his arms tighter around her, indulging in the pure and blissful sensation of her presence. when she asks him if he's okay, she already knows the answer. they both do. just like he knows that she isn't okay. the second she was back in his embrace, he could sense it. her eyes didn't ever lie, even now, after all this time.

❝ shouldn't you be at college? ❞ it feels like a stupid, insignificant question, one that doesn't actually matter under the circumstances. he's assuming that she stuck to all of the plans she made back in high school; move out, study, party, enjoy single life with audrey. the thought of his ex-girlfriend doesn't even arouse any guilt. it solidifies the fact that he's no longer a good person, but was he ever? the night he slept with his best friend while his girlfriend stayed home was perhaps an even bigger indication of what kind of person he was. harrison's thumb trails lightly across caroline's bottom lip, the texture of her skin soft underneath his touch. he recalls that very night and the morning after.... how they never did get a chance to speak about any of it. he wonders if she regrets it, or if like him, it lives inside of her like a sacred oath. an understanding that their relationship meant so much more than either of them ever chose to acknowledge. you're okay. she sounds so certain that she can take control of it for him, much like she used to whenever he needed her. they threw each other a lifeline, time and time again, for anything, for everything, they were always saving each other but this, there was no coming back from it. his finger moves from her lip to her jaw, her own delicate touch through his hair and across his face allowing him to breathe a little lighter. ❝ you still trying to take care of everyone and fight their fuckin' battles? ❞ it's a rhetorical question, followed by a real one. ❝ who's taking care of you? ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

❝ it's okay to be tired. ❞ he reminds her, cradling caroline when she plants herself in his embrace. harrison's arms drape gently around her, acting like a weighted blanket, holding her close to him. although she's immortal, she's still just a girl, attending high school, juggling friends and academics and all the other bullshit that comes with it. allowing her a safe space to vent is something that he's always done, no matter how big or little the scale of her problems are. the wolf offers her an outlet, not only as her boyfriend but as her best friend; the person who knows her better than anyone else in the world. ❝ i'll do your math homework for the rest of the year. i'll do your history assignments too, just don't let it fuckin' get on top of you like this. ❞ he's already excelling in all of his college classes and most of the time, he doesn't even have to try. he's always been naturally gifted when it comes to school, no matter the subject. it's why he's not going to let this be an issue for her. ❝ whenever you've got a test, i'll come over and cram with you. we'll do the fuckin' sticky post-its and the bingo cards. i can't be away from you like this anymore. i'll fuckin' transfer to whitmore if that's what it takes. ❞ a soft kiss is pressed to her temple, strong arms tightening slightly as he pulls her closer. the knowledge that he would only be one hour away from her instead of four is something that comforts him immensely. ❝ listen, respectfully, fuck the decade dance and fuck your friends. let's get away from here for a while? we can just take off? ❞ he turns care around to face him, running his hand through her hair, before settling it on the back of her neck. breathing her in, he pulls her up and into his lap, his free hand tugging on his t-shirt that she's wearing. ❝ we're well overdue a break, baby. so let's get the fuck out of this town. ❞

her mouth opens to deflect, or refute, or minimize, or something. the way that she always has. because he doesn't really want to hear about all of this, right? the same way that her friends don't want to hear her whine about how much she misses him, and damon and stefan always give her that blank look when she laments the fact that she didn't have enough time to study for their science test last week. but long arms are winding around her and she's tucked against a wall of muscle and limbs and home and none of her other excuses hold any water around harrison because it's harrison. she could --- has --- gone on twenty minute long tangents about how ross never deserved rachel and the whole thing is evidence of the shitty boyfriend industrial complex without so much as flinching. he listens. he cares. ❝ i'm just tired, ❞ she so rarely admits it that the words feel foreign on her tongue, but she does her best to soften them with a small smile and a nuzzle against his shoulder. ❝ i've got this history test on friday and it's pre-salvatore so i can't really leech off of him for information to make it easier. and i tanked my last math exam, which brings my whole GPA down. bonnie's in crisis but she won't admit it, jeremy is AWOL, elena's pretending to be fine and i'm trying to plan this year's decade dance but no one can agree on what decade to do and none of them are sexy enough or have good enough music and it's not like it'll matter because the whole thing will inevitably be the setting of the town's next massacre anyway. ❞ caroline exhales, winds her arms around harrison to pull herself in tighter. ❝ and i have a really hot, really tall boyfriend who i'm crazy about but i barely ever get to see him. ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

continued from here ( x ) with @seesgood / carrison !

he'd argue that they're as exposed as two people can be; sharing a bubble bath together, naked body against naked body, washing each other, touching each other, loving each other. there's still hesitancy though, one he can sense the instant she pulls back to look at him. it's written in those blue eyes he knows so well, the stare of uncertainty, of doubt. ❝ hot bachelor reputation? seriously? ❞ he uses her own catchphrase on her and it's a moment of role reversal that he hopes will make her laugh. ❝ we trust each other, right? ❞ harrison leans in for another kiss, letting his lips tenderly peck her for reassurance. he can feel her heart, beating solidly beneath her skin. despite the idea being his, the last thing he wants is to draw this kind of reaction from her, especially if she's uncomfortable. ❝ i just figured, since it's a work thing, tiny tony's gonna be there. ❞ brown eyes open slowly and he lifts his hand to cup her cheek, stealing a couple more kisses while he continues to swerve around the topic. ❝ kept that nickname fuckin' quiet, didn't you? ❞ it's easier to convince her that he's stepping into the role to protect her, rather than admit to the truth, a truth that echoes this sentiment --- why the fuck wouldn't he want to be her boyfriend? pressing his forehead to hers, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. ❝ but to answer your question, i'm more than okay with it. ❞ har says, keeping his gaze steadily on her. ❝ i'll be whatever the fuck you need, care. ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

a carrison texting starter that @seesgood didn't ask for.

[ sms → babe ]: this college set-up is the dumbest fuckin decision we ever made. [ sms → babe ]: why are you four fuckin hours away? vamp speed your ass to me now. [ sms → babe ]: oh and i might've sketched you for class, so it's only fair that you send me nudes in return. 😘

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[awalkoflife-arc]

last night should have been a once in a lifetime experience, considering how much he paid for the fucking tickets. it was worth it though, to be with his girl, alone in a crowd of thousands, singing along to the greatest musical artist of her time. caroline was relaxed and he wasn't even high. for the first time in a long time, he didn't need it because the natural high was even better. after spending the night together, he snuck out of her apartment to go to work, leaving the blonde with a coffee and a surprise piece of eras tour merch to wake up to. fast forward to right now and her apartment looks totally different than it did this morning. he's walking into the middle of a circus; there's glitter everywhere, clothes spread out across the floor and over the furniture and elena is literally wearing a top hat. ❝ jesus fuckin' christ. ❞ his eyes flash to sab and nancy, as he steps over a pair of heels, before glancing over at care who is fighting with a piece of fabric. ❝ this place looks like a fuckin' crime scene. ❞ none of them look even remotely close to being ready, except for nan, who is always the first one in every group event to have her shit together. ❝ to skip the traffic, you guys want an official nypd escort to this thing? ❞ he's still in uniform, even though he's officially off-duty so he might as well put it to use. ❝ you mean a ride in your cop car? ❞ sab asks enthusiastically, turning up the volume of the music. ❝ i call shotgun! ❞

she's learned that it's best to just stay out of the way. caroline and elena have been a flurry of activity all day --- sorting outfits, having meltdowns about things not being sparkly enough ( caroline ), making sure they have a rideshare app reserved to avoid drunk driving ( elena ), and just generally being all over the place. all nancy knows is that she lucked out by claiming the easy era. the cardigan and flannel era. her hair is crimped and her makeup is simple and she has an old, overly large flannel to wear that she stole from an ex girlfriend in college and she's set. ❝ somewhere between mayer and gyllenhaal, i think? ❞ nancy takes a large sip of her cocktail, trying not to smile when caroline's indignant squeak can be heard from across the apartment. soon enough, the other blonde is chiming in. "debut, sab --- tight curls and cowgirl boots." caroline flutters closer, tosses one of her own lacy white sundresses and a denim jacket at sab, and gives a pointed look to nancy and then a curling iron. with a small laugh, nancy obliges, setting her glass down and grabbing the curling iron before gesturing for sab to sit so she can start. ❝ they scare me, ❞ she murmurs, just soft enough for the other blonde to hear as she nods over to caroline and elena who are taking a bedazzler to some piece of fabric. ❝ and i'm not convinced tyler didn't organize this whole thing as a social experiment to see just how unhinged they get. ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

+ he loves her like she's brand new ! @seesgood

dating the queen of event planning meant that harrison was now expected to attend every brunch, lunch and dinner that the former miss mystic falls organised. the annual secret santa shenanigans were no different, but this year, he worked it to his advantage. ❝ what do you mean you got caroline? that can't be right. i got caroline. ❞ elena insisted, revealing her best friend's name on the mystery card that each of them had picked out of a hat earlier that month. harrison was necking a pint when elena called him out, so he tossed the card he'd picked at her ---- one that had his own name written across it. ❝ that's your name. not caroline's. you should have told us. ❞ the brunette continued, clearly frustrated. harrison set his pint down and laughed, turning his attention to his girlfriend. ❝ listen 'lena, i couldn't give less of a fuck. my name, my rules. this way, my girl gets two presents and since she's the one who organised it for all of you, i'd say that's fair. ❞ he answered, reaching for the blonde, his fingertips gently caressing her arm. with his free hand, he pulled out a small box from a bag underneath the table, it was wrapped in 'swiftmas' paper and inside, there was a necklace. ❝ technically, i wasn't cheating. my present incorporates a part of myself. ❞ he told caroline, slipping her another card addressed to her, this time with the words: 'i want you to wear my initial on a chain round your neck, not because i own you, but 'cause i really know you.' inside of it. ❝ merry swiftmas, baby. i think i just entered my rep' era. ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

continued from here with caroline / @seesgood

at the mention of stelena, harrison immediately rolls his eyes. stefan isn't all bad, considering what he is, but elena... jesus christ. ❝ you mean vampire romeo and his martyr juliet? don't even fuckin' insult me like that. ❞ he's mostly teasing; her friends aren't technically his friends, but they're important to her so they're not nothing either. what matters to her, matters to him, no matter how much of a pain in the ass it might be. there's a quick shift and soon, she's on top of him, smooth limbs straddling his abdomen while his hands find their way to her hips. he massages her through his t-shirt, fingertips pressing soft circles into her tiny waist. ❝ don't har me. it is what it is and whatever version of hell it might be, you're not gonna experience it with me. end of fuckin' story. ❞ his words cut her off prematurely, before she gets a chance to explain and when she does, he tries and fails to bury his smile. you're my person. this he knows, because she's his too. using what little energy he has left of his supernatural speed, he sits up in a hurry, holding her in place on top of him. he buries his face into her chest, while his hands grip her thighs, keeping her steady. ❝ who's being cavalier about their life now, huh? i'm right where i wanna be. ❞ he teases, forehead pressed against her sternum, just above her breasts. the fact that he can't feel a bra tempts him further, but he restrains himself. ❝ enough of this bullshit anyway --- it's over. ❞ for another month, at least. when he pulls back from her chest, harrison lifts his head to look up at her, brown eyes glowing from the close contact. ❝ get high with me? ❞ reaching into his bedside cabinet with care still on top of him, he pulls out a pre-rolled joint and places it between his lips. weed is a habit reserved for parties and nights like this, when his body is physically aching. ❝ we can just fuckin' forget about it all for a few hours. you want to? ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

baby. baby. baby. the word repeats itself in harrison's brain; in that airy singsong voice of hers, the kind he's used to hearing in a very different context. normally, when caroline forbes calls him baby, it's because she's underneath him or on top of him or rendered breathless because of him. it's never usually uttered when they're sitting eating chinese food, but tonight it is. ❝ you sure about that? you'd be the cult member who's fuckin' the cop. gives a whole other meaning to covert operations. ❞ he laughs as he pulls a spare rib out of one of the containers and raises it to his mouth to take a bite. pausing to eat, he picks up on her slight change of demeanour and smiles at her when they make eye-contact. it's technically his job to be able to identify and interpret suspicious behaviour and luckily for him, his blonde best friend is always up to the task --- she helps him without even realising she's helping him. harrison is beyond familiar with the signs of caroline's evasiveness, but he plays along. ❝ an intervention? ❞ it's no secret that she's dramatic, that they're all dramatic in their own way, but this? ❝ you really think that's necessary? ❞ what he wants to tell her is that it's none of their fuckin' business. the two of them are grown women, doctors, who are partaking in a consensual, sexual relationship. but he knows that's not what she wants to hear. ❝ elena's happy, right? so just let her be fuckin' happy. ❞ harrison sets down the now bare rib bone and licks his fingers, before adding, ❝ i mean --- how'd you feel if they were having the same conversation about us? ❞ perhaps it's a little too close to home, perhaps not. either way, it's a topic they can't exactly avoid forever. ❝ we don't need any fuckin' third party interference in our relationship. you're one of my best friends. we like to fuck. we're good at it. nobody else needs to have a fuckin' opinion, babe. same goes for... nanlena and their situationship. ❞

caroline rolls her eyes, taking a somewhat unladylike bite of an egg roll as she settles herself into the seat opposite harrison.  ❝ baby we both know that if i joined a cult, you’d be right there with me. ❞  mostly because he wouldn’t let her do anything halfway dangerous alone, but also because most cults involve weird sexual relationships and she’s caught onto the way he glares at any guy she meets at the coffee house. not that she ever purposely brings guys to the coffee house just to make him jealous. caroline kicks one foot onto the edge of her chair, bending at the knee as she gets more comfortable in her seat, smiling at him as she chews on a bite of her food. god, he’s gorgeous. even when he’s being evasive and slightly grumpy. if it weren’t for sabrina’s perv of a cat, she’d probably already be trying to steer this conversation into a less appropriate direction. but his question catches her just off guard enough that her thoughts tug in a different direction. the real reason she called him tonight. right. because she could have called tyler, or elena, or even nancy, who works like a block away from here if she needed someone to support her in her salem-standoff. because it’s totally not normal to want to call one specific person for ever little thing that happens throughout the day. to feel like she’s going through withdrawals when she goes over twelve hours without seeing him. she needs a reason. like an actual, concrete reason.  ❝ i’m staging an intervention. ❞  it comes out of left field and she blurts it out as quickly as the thought materializes in her head.  ❝ for elena. and nancy. for nancy and elena and the fact that they’re totally trying to hide that they’re a thing. and i needed a neutral setting so, ❞  she shrugs, glancing around sabrina’s apartment.  ❝ because my place has been turned into nanlena sex central, and i’m supposed to be totally oblivious to it. like hello? i am the certified expert in elena gilbert. i can tell when she’s having great sex, and i can totally tell when she’s in love. ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

❝ caroline. ❞

her name is all that exists in the space between them. she’s trembling and harrison can feel every movement of her body. he knows the pain that exists inside of her, is familiar with the same rage that festers as a side effect of such. he’s eighteen, she’s eternally seventeen, both enduring a reality neither of them asked to be a part of. she’s hurting, but he refuses to let her carry the weight of her suffering alone. ❝ babe, look at me. ❞ it’s his name for her, the name that he’s called her forever. the name he gives to her even though she’s never belonged to him that way. he intends it to be a comfort, a way of getting her out of her own head. a way of situating her back in the present moment with him. ❝ this has to stop. ❞ his hand is slow to travel into her hair, guiding the wavy blonde locks away from her face.  ❝ you can’t deprive yourself. ❞ it was a basic, primal instinct. blood was what she craved now and he wasn’t about to let her go without or starve herself, not when she needed it to survive. + closed starter for @seesgood​ 

[awalkoflife-arc]

@seesgood​​ voila ! do you like my magic trick? it’s another thread. ( continued from here )  

he’s so fucking tired, but she’s here and she’s wearing his clothes and somehow, it’s all that matters. his bed is a sanctuary, made perfect by her very presence. the night before was a fragmented blur rendered by the rise of the full moon. he’s made it clear that he doesn’t approve of her nightly activities with tyler, for obvious reasons; her imminent death should he bite her being the most important. yet, it seems an impossible task to get through to her on the matter. the day after is what counts. when she’s wrapped up in his bedsheets, fresh out of a shower looking like that. his t-shirt clings to her in exactly the right places and he can’t help, but allow his mind to imagine what’s underneath. he’s only half joking when he tells her, ❝ you can take it off too, you know. ❞ he’s only in a pair of boxers himself because he’s too hot to wear anything else and it’s not like they aren’t used to being half naked around each other by now.  ❝ you won’t be hanging around any fucking frat boys wearing that. don’t annoy me. ❞ his head lowers to rest upon her chest and he angles himself to be closer to her. with his free hand, he trails his fingertips across her thigh, not fully invested in the movie they’re watching. ❝ can you put some of that shit on me? ❞ he’s referencing her lotion, ❝ your skin feels amazing.  ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

     ❝ You want to know what’s backward about this? James doesn’t deserve Betty or Augustine. They’re sweet girls. A little naïve. But, you know who isn’t a sweet girl? Motherfuckin’ Inez. He should go fuck around with her. ❞   @seesgood​ + he pays attention :’)

[awalkoflife-arc]

send 🌚 to decorate the house for halloween with my muse / h a r r i s o n

❝ You want to come help Daddy paint some pumpkins? ❞ He's lifting his son up into his arms, cradling him against his chest. ❝ We can do Ninja Turtles, Spider-Man, Paw Patrol --- anything you want. ❞ The toddler nods enthusiastically and rests his head against Harrison's shoulder. He's tired, but it's too late in the afternoon to risk a danger nap. Caroline is with their daughter in the kitchen, baking witch shaped sugar cookies and building papier mâché skeletons. Their home is filled with the scent of cinnamon, weaved into the autumnal bouquet that Harrison ordered fresh from the florist for his wife who was obsessed with all things Fall. He passes her on the way out to the garden, kisses her tenderly, his lips slow to depart from her own. It's a kiss that's filled with gratitude; for the life they've built together, their home, their babies, their marriage. Everything he has is because of her and there’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t acknowledge it. She’s finally his --- forever. ❝ Can I have a cookie, Mommy? ❞ Their son's voice is what makes Harrison break away from Caroline and he grins, before placing a gentle peck on top of his daughter’s head. ❝ That is the best paper skeleton I’ve ever seen, baby girl. ❞ He comments, allowing his fingertips to briefly comb through her blonde curls. This is his life now; pumpkin patches and kindgergarten carpool, hot chocolate and bedtimes stories, teddybear picnics and day trips to the zoo, early mornings and even earlier nights. This is Harrison Morgan's life and he's never known love quite like it.  

[awalkoflife-arc]

send 👻 to invite my muse into a haunted house / for harrison + it's literally the most cliche haunted house with stoned teenagers being the actors and caroline is terrified thx

he's already midway through his fall semester when caroline decides to visit him at college. naturally, it's the perfect time of year to indulge in all the tricks and treats of the season. harrison grins when they pull up outside of the abandoned frat house, designed to look like something straight out of shirley jackson's gothic masterpiece. he'd purchased tickets on a whim, figuring it would be a good way to capture the spirit of the holiday. halloween was a night that allowed them a certain kind of freedom. they were monsters after all, a vampire and a werewolf blending in with the humans. what he doesn't expect, is the yelps that escape his best friend, the twitching and the erratic breaths upon entry when all the doors are locked. the house is much darker than he anticipates, but his senses are sharp. the freshmen drama majors are doing their best to set the scene, yet all he can do is laugh. there's eerie music playing from one of the rooms upstairs, something from the exorcist or some other freakshow of a film. caroline is shaking beside him, clearly uncomfortable the further they delve into the house. ❝ c'mere you fuckin' pussy cat. ❞ he whispers, gently guiding her into his embrace. she's trembling against his chest, so he presses a kiss to her forehead, laces their fingers together and attempts to calm her down when he says, ❝ you realise you're the scariest motherfuckin' thing in here, right? ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

he's trying his best to keep up with her logic, but he's a little distracted by the way her eyes carefully hone in on every subtle move he makes, as he begins to get comfortable. it's part tease, part experiment when he lowers his hands to loosen his belt. his fingers are slow to unlatch the buckle and he slips it out from the hook, setting it beside his holster, all while holding caroline's gaze. he wonders if she'll fuck him right here at the table or on sab's couch or in her spare bed. focus morgan, that's not why you're here. ❝ and have you? ❞ he asks candidly, ❝ shared sex stories about the girls you've been with? ❞ an unwelcome feeling of unease arises at the thought of the blonde being with any other person in a sexual manner, but he figures it's important to acknowledge, so he buries his jealousy as best he can. ❝ that might be part of the problem, you know. if all you talk about are the men you've been with. this is literally brand new territory for elena. ❞ he knows nancy'll be doing everything she can to make her comfortable though. he also knows if the super important girl best friend talk is as crucial as caroline's making it out to be then the brunette is definitely suppressing. ❝ she'll want that too. i just think if you can't give her space to figure it out then you both need to meet each other halfway. let her know you're comfortable talking about it. do whatever the fuck it is you guys do. you've known each other since grade school. ❞ aside from being his person, she's also elena's person, which means that the two of them are already on the same wavelength, whether they know it or not. ❝ you'll figure it out, babe. stop fuckin' stressing, okay? ❞ he says, clearing his plate, before looking over at her. ❝ we done with the girl talk now? can i go back to being a man and ask for a blowjob since i brought you dinner and helped with salem? i think i fuckin' earned it. ❞

her mouth opens to insist that that's not her point --- but he already knows that. instead, her eyes just narrow into a half-hearted glare as her chopsticks stab into the carton of lo mein. without a word, she puts the carton down just in time for him to pass the fried rice over. her eyes follow the casual way he unholsters his gun and sets it down, notes the way he purposefully angles it away from her. it shouldn't be hot, but it is. then again, he could do just about anything and she'd think it was the hottest thing ever, simply because it's him. ❝ she shouldn't have to figure it out on her own, that's what best friends are for. ❞ men are weird for not getting that. in all the time that she's spent around them, she's pretty sure the most serious conversation he and tyler have had involved comparing the best brands of condoms to buy. ❝ that's what girl best friends do, okay? we talk about boys and girls and compare sex stories and make fun of bad dates. ❞ and okay maybe she's projecting a little bit because every time she's done that lately, she's been lying. and maybe the reason she hasn't fessed up to her best friends about what's been going on with harrison is because she knows what they'll say. and if they say it, then it'll be real. and if it becomes real, then it'll be terrifying. and, well, she likes the little bubble of sex and flirtation and banter and no strain that they've made for themselves here. ❝ i want to be in the happiness with her. ❞

[awalkoflife-arc]

❝ mrs morgan's most definitely still got it. ❞ harrison grins, lifting his wife down off the last step, playfully squeezing her ass on the way into their car. after half a decade of marriage and two kids later, he's more in love with her than ever, more appreciative of the woman and the mother that she's become. he's still as starry eyed as he was when he was seventeen, meeting her for the first time, discovering how she loved to play matchmaker on set. fast forward ten years into the future and nothing has changed. their two best friends are her next project and honestly, he'd be stupid not to be supportive. teddy and anna are perfect for each other, despite the fact they're from two completely different worlds. the cycle of dating and breaking-up, of witnessing two people they care about continually get hurt over and over again is something that even harrison has grown tired of. it's why he's fully on board with all of caroline's schemes and plots, even if they are using their kids as bait.

the kiss to his jaw makes him wish they had a little more time to kill and he bites down on his lip, eager for their night to begin so that their night can begin. once inside, he clicks care into her seatbelt and gently pulls her close to his side, brown eyes holding her gaze when she raises his hand to her lips. ❝ careful what you wish for, babe. ❞ he teases, raising his free hand to lightly cup her jaw. ❝ last time you said that, i knocked you the fuck up. ❞ the profanity feels foreign even though it's subtle. he's so used to watching his tongue now that they have mini-me's to raise and he smirks because he knows --- his wife always has a way of bringing it out of him. ❝ you look incredible, by the way. ❞ he whispers, lowering his lips to her ear so only she can hear. ❝ i'm gonna make you cum so fuckin' hard in that dress... ❞ because at this stage of their careers and in their marriage, it's nothing if not tradition.

❝ i --- ❞ the door barely clicks shut behind them when she turns to her husband with a grin already fully formed, ❝ am a genius. ❞ her hand curls around his arm as he helps her down the front stoop towards their waiting car. usually, she's a nervous wreck leaving their kids. they're small and they're adorable and apart from the man currently trapped in her gaze, they're her everything. but tonight? tonight there's not a single inkling of worry. the twins are in good hands, and she can already see a budding romance forming. plus, she's wearing the kind of dress that screams 'you'll be too busy appreciating how good my boobs look to ask me who's taking care of my kids.' ❝ you know i thought i might be losing my touch, but, ❞ her tongue makes a clicking noise and caroline shakes her head, melting against harrison's side. ❝ i've totally still got it. ❞

because he looks handsome ( and because these heels give her at least an added four inches, which makes it far easier to reach him ) caroline reaches up to kiss the bottom of his jaw, only pulling away to slip into the back of their waiting car. she greets their usual driver and, once the door shuts behind harrison, turns towards her husband with the kind of look that makes online comments read "brb, taking a nap in traffic." the premiere of his new movie is tonight, the one that has his name listed both under writer and director. and her role, small as it may be, is probably one of her favorites. caroline takes his hand in hers and brings it up to her mouth, kissing the ring on his finger as her gaze practically melts on him. ❝ you're totally getting laid tonight. ❞ / @awalkoflife + ope

[awalkoflife-arc]

nobody really understood what it felt like --- the severity of all the loss in his life, the trauma that he was too young to remember but experienced all the same. the kind that was embedded deep into his psyche, the one he carried around with him day after day after day. death seemed to follow harrison morgan like a plague; images of his mother who was murdered right in front of him, of his father who was killed in the wake of a natural disaster and of hannah, his stepmom, who was diagnosed with a terminal illness just when things felt like they were starting to get good. it might have been easier to accept had all of it been true but not all of it was.

dexter morgan wasn't dead, not in the physical sense, or in the way he'd let his son believe for ten whole years. the letter he wrote to hannah confirmed this and when she passed, harrison set out to find answers. he spent six months in foster care, where he met the worst of humanity --- it was a place he'd learned to fight in order to protect those who were more vulnerable than he was. little kids who didn't know better, who couldn't defend themselves against physical or emotional abuse. undoubtedly, that was the hardest part about leaving the system --- knowing what was going on --- but the second he turned eighteen, harrison didn't look back, couldn't look back. living under the alias of jim lindsay, in the small town of iron lake, he found his father. their reunion was hardly a celebration but for the first time in his life, he didn't feel so isolated. the comfort of it all was short-lived however. after a period of attempting to settle into the community with the man who abandoned him, it didn't take long for harrison to realise that dexter was better off disappearing.

looking for him was a mistake, a mistake that quickly turned into a nightmare, a mistake that made him a murderer. returning to miami in the wake of it all was a decision he made impulsively. he tracked down astor and cody fairly easily, but chose not to insert himself back into their lives --- they looked happy, at peace and harrison knew it would be selfish to disrupt that. he visited his mom's final place of rest and spent the day apologising to her for who he'd become; a monster, just like his dad, the man she married who led her to her grave. then, with nothing else to stay in miami for, he got into his truck and drove back to the only place that ever truly felt like home.

on arrival, the small town looks like the same as the day he left and when he walks up the familiar gravel path to the house he grew up in, she hits him like a shot to the chest. oh my god. the words are repeated over and over and it takes a second for it to register whose voice they belong to. harrison's hands immediately attach to her waist, where they instinctively pull her closer to him. it doesn't feel real that she's here, that he's home and yet --- ❝ caroline? ❞ it's been two years and her hands are grasping at him, she's clinging to him, like no time has passed at all. the speed at which she's talking is one he can't keep up with and fuck, she's all consuming. ❝ hey, hey, slow down. ❞ it's almost like he can feel the erratic pulse beneath her skin, and when he raises his hand to gently cup her jaw, he's fighting against every single urge he has to kiss her. ❝ i'm here. ❞ he's not sure if that's a comfort to her, but the way their bodies are responding to each other is reminding him of the night they shared before everything in his life changed; the same night he learned how she tasted, how perfectly he fit inside of her, how she was the best he ever had... ❝ babe, breathe. ❞ he guides her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her tighter, so that she can feel all of him. ❝ i'm sorry --- ❞ he tells her, the weight of the words sinking into her skin, as his fingertips squeeze the soft flesh of her waist. ❝ i'm so fuckin' sorry, babe, i'm so sorry... i'm sorry. ❞

there are all kinds of rumors about what happened to harrison morgan. it’s not like he just disappeared — there’s no missing persons case or big media storm or anything major. it’s just that one day hannah dies and the window across from hers stays dark. bags are packed and things are boxed up and the house stays empty and he’s just… gone. she asks liz about it once or twice, but she gets some vague answer about confidentiality and a hollow assurance that he’s fine. then she asks audrey, who says that she overheard her mom mention something about foster care.

the rumors, of course, are a lot more entertaining. some people like to claim he was kidnapped. that he found out he has a long lost, uber-rich uncle or cousin or dad or something and he went to live with them. the others are a little more ridiculous: a porn career, modeling gig, jail, he ran away and hopped a train to nowhere. caroline’s learned not to pay them any attention, but through the years she’ll still often catch herself looking out her bedroom window, across the small space between her house and hannah’s towards the window that used to be his. she’ll remember how funny he was, and how he was one of the only people who ever understood her. and she’ll remember that night at a party, drinking too much, touching too much, how right it had felt when they’d kissed and how wrong she’d felt the next day when she saw audrey. 

the circumstances surrounding his disappearance never really mattered to her as much as the simple fact that he was gone. no answers. no calls or texts or letters. no real answers. 

it’s a normal day  ( dewy grass, overcast sky, crisp air )  when she hears a car pull into the driveway of that house. his house. ( she’s always just assumed that liz and audrey’s mom kept it in his name, or something, because it never went up for sale. )  she’s tired, and college courses are kicking her ass and liz had a bad night at the hospital while she was getting chemo. a car engine shuts off as she’s turning her key in the front door, casting a look over towards harrison’s house as if it’s an afterthought. it starts as a little prickle on the back of her neck, a shiver that skitters down her spine, and then it just feels like this cosmic tug that makes her turn to regard the man more fully. tall. handsome. not quite as gangly and awkward as she remembers him being.  ❝ oh my god, ❞  it’s beneath her breath, her bag slipping from her shoulder and falling with a gentle thunk onto her porch,  ❝ oh my god! ❞ her feet are flying down the few steps, carrying her over the small patch of grass between their driveways, and practically launching her into a hug before she can even tell herself to maintain composure. she squeezes, one hand curling behind his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin — it’s pathetic, how she almost instantly wants to cry.  ❝ oh my god — ❞  caroline finally pulls back, her heart flipping as she looks up at him.  ❝ oh my god, i totally should have asked before doing that — is this real? you’re here right? ❞  her palms find his chest, fingers curling ever so slightly into his jacket. tangible. solid. warm. her breath stutters on an inhale.          /          @awalkoflife   +   plotted things bc i couldn’t resist anymore :))