She had tried to help out one day by doing his laundry and cook dinner. By the time he had come home from work, all his whites were lovely shades of blue and pink, and the steaks had become unidentifiable lumps of coal. He had to laugh as he watched her look at the black lumps in childish dispair. He hugged her with one arm as he disposed of the burnt dinner, teeling her not to worry. he'd bleach his whites and take her out to dinner, promising to do all the housework from now on.

As they lived together, he found out certain things about Morgan. She was an artist, and he liked that about her. He had never known an artistic person before, and he was very impressed by her abilities. He lived relatively close to the ocean, so every Sunday on his weekly trip to the beach, they would walk together. While he surfed, Morgan would collect seashells and driftwood. At home, she would make intricate articles of jewlery from what she had found, and beads that Kevin had bought while out at lunch. Out of curiousity, Kevin took her jewlery to a local shop that sold home-made items. The shop owner was extremely impressed, having not ever seen such fine work with shells before and asked if she could carry them in her shop. He informed the owner that he'd have to discuss it with the maker, and hurried home. Morgan was ellated! She couldn't believe that someone would want to sell her things to others. She had Kevin rush her over there with all that she had made and the jewlery was immediately placed in a beautiful display in the shop's front window. To his surprise, her works sold quickly and for good prices. Excited that she could pay for her cost of living, she tried to get him to accept her money, but he wouldn't take it.

"But I'm taking advantage of you! At least use it to pay the bills!" she protested, waving the money in his face.

"No," he answered, gently pushing her hand away and ending the arguement.

During the time that they had been together, Kevin had made it very clear to Morgan, that she had the freedom to go out with anyone she wanted to. He didn't want her to feel obligated to him just because he wouldn't allow her to pay the rent or the bills. He hoped she wouldn't, but he had to give her the freedom of choice.

He only had to look at her to realize just how quickly she could find someone else. He didn't even need to compare himself to her. Just by looking in the mirror, he could see how ordinary he was. He knew that if he had seen a couple as mismatched in looks at they were, he'd wonder what was up. It wasn't that he didn't think he was handsome. It was just that the comparison between them was like comapring the earth to the sun. His hair was dark brown in color, like that of the good old terra firma. It didn't even have all the sunbleached highlights that came as a given extra benefit for surfing. His eyes merely imitated the color of his hair in muted muddy tones. He always thought he had been cheated out of the deep, resonate ones that the great romantics always seemed to have.

But Morgan's hair shimmered like ripples in the sun and her eyes reflected the deepest blue of the ocean. HIs tan looked pale standing next to her golden glow. In his eyes, she was truly an etherial beauty that thad somehow managed to touch earth's plane.

So it was that he was equally surprised that she would tell him that she didn't wish to see anyone else. It was only obvious the effects she had on other men. When they walked together, he had noticed the particular pattern they all seemed to have. First, their eyes would follow her as she passed by, wide and gaping. Then, they'd turn and look at him, as if they were sizing him up to see if they could push him aside to take his place. Then a look of confusion and puzzlement would cross their face as they turned back to Morgan, not bothering to contain their bewilderment of what she could possibly see in him. This phenomenon would occour everywhere they went. Men flocked to her, but she either never seemed to notice, or she just didn't bother to pay attention.

"Why are we still dating?!" he asked one Sunday as they walked along the beach. He had witnessed yet another of the patterns her presence caused.

"What do you mean?" she asked, turning to look at him, a worried look on her face.

"Well...Just look at you! You're gorgeous! You've got every guy here getting whiplash just to take a look at you! And you're with me. Any of these guys would give you their soul on a glass platter just to be standing where I am right now!" he exclaimed.

"Perhaps," she said, secretly smiling to herself.

"So why are you still here with me?" he asked, now much quieter as he stopped walking.

Morgan sighed and turned around. She placed her hands on his shoulders and shook him gently. "Because you are 'just you'," she answered and chuckled. She turned back around and started walking off.  Kevin trotted a bit to catch up with her as she shook her head, looking down. "Those other guys..." she started, then raised her head and looked off down the beach. Her eyes grew deeper in color, as if she were looking off into the distance to help her remember something. "...They don't have all the qualities they do. You don't try to show off and you don't need to prove anything. Those other guys just want me as a decoration for their super-egos, but you," she said, her voice suddenly soft, "like me for only who I am."

"Well, I can't say you don't decorate my super-ego a little too, you know," he joked.

She looked up at him in playful shock, her eyes bright and sparkling. She set her chin out and ruffled his hair. "But you deserve it!" she exclaimed, her voice purring happily.

Morgan was reserved on things that she talked about. She would tell him about her dreams, her fantasies and some of her goals, but never about her past. The only thing he knew on that subject was the ex-boyfriend she had told him about when they had met. He found it odd that she never talked about her family, wher she had grown up or the things she had done as a kid. When he tried to get her to talk about those things, she would quickly find something else to talk about. Or would simply answer, "I don't remember." He tried not to let it bother him too much. If her past was that personal, he'd rather she vollunteer the information than have it pried from her. He decided in the end, that she was there in the here and now, and for him , that was all that mattered.