Thank you for the awesome prompt! I hope I did it justice.
He had no idea how alike they were. No matter how many cons they pulled together, no matter how many times she saved his skin, no matter what detail she picked up on, Neal still saw her as an innocent bystander, a sweet girl who would always have more to learn. He was the con artist. He was the one with dozens of aliases and that perfect mask always in place. He thought that with her, what he saw was what he got. He didn't realize that she wore a mask as well. Not every "I'm fine" could be taken at face value, and not every smile was real. Neal, of course, didn't see that. He accepted her for who she was, or who he thought she was. She knew that was what hurt him most when she left. It was when it must have hit him for the first time just how much she had learned. How thick the mask she had painted on her face really was. When two cons are in a relationship, there is never complete honesty. Even when she led Fowler to San Francisco (although she had never really believed the loot was really there) the mask stayed in place. She never panicked or fell apart. She just did what she had to to stay alive. She talked to Neal on the pay phone. His mask slipped, revealing love and desperation. But she held true to herself. It's the only way, she said. And that was that. When Peter Burke visited her, it was harder. All the lies and deception that she had thrown over herself like a blanket frayed. Did you ever love him? She considered it one of the greatest triumphs of her criminal career when she did not reply. Waiting on the plane for Neal, she should have felt safe. She wouldn't have to lie anymore. She could be honest for once. But deep down, she knew that nothing would ever be the same. No matter how much she wanted to be with Neal, the instinct to lie was ingrained too deeply in her. Settling down into a normal lifestyle with a conman would be like shutting her in a cage built on nothing but lies. Neal would no doubt expect honesty. But would that even be possible anymore? Even though these past few months had weakened her, she was still the same person. No matter how they had tried to break her, she was a fighter. To give up on the very thing that she had been working towards that entire time would be painful. She touched her cheek to the window, and could feel a tear running down her face, dragging some mascara and foundation along with it. She wiped it off with defiance, smearing the color across her face. She stared at the pink smudge on her finger and felt a surge of determination. My makeup may be flaking. But I'm still Kate Moreau. And I'm not giving up.
Filled
He had no idea how alike they were.
No matter how many cons they pulled together, no matter how many times she saved his skin, no matter what detail she picked up on, Neal still saw her as an innocent bystander, a sweet girl who would always have more to learn. He was the con artist. He was the one with dozens of aliases and that perfect mask always in place. He thought that with her, what he saw was what he got.
He didn't realize that she wore a mask as well. Not every "I'm fine" could be taken at face value, and not every smile was real. Neal, of course, didn't see that. He accepted her for who she was, or who he thought she was.
She knew that was what hurt him most when she left. It was when it must have hit him for the first time just how much she had learned. How thick the mask she had painted on her face really was. When two cons are in a relationship, there is never complete honesty.
Even when she led Fowler to San Francisco (although she had never really believed the loot was really there) the mask stayed in place. She never panicked or fell apart. She just did what she had to to stay alive.
She talked to Neal on the pay phone. His mask slipped, revealing love and desperation. But she held true to herself. It's the only way, she said. And that was that.
When Peter Burke visited her, it was harder. All the lies and deception that she had thrown over herself like a blanket frayed. Did you ever love him? She considered it one of the greatest triumphs of her criminal career when she did not reply.
Waiting on the plane for Neal, she should have felt safe. She wouldn't have to lie anymore. She could be honest for once.
But deep down, she knew that nothing would ever be the same. No matter how much she wanted to be with Neal, the instinct to lie was ingrained too deeply in her. Settling down into a normal lifestyle with a conman would be like shutting her in a cage built on nothing but lies. Neal would no doubt expect honesty. But would that even be possible anymore?
Even though these past few months had weakened her, she was still the same person. No matter how they had tried to break her, she was a fighter. To give up on the very thing that she had been working towards that entire time would be painful.
She touched her cheek to the window, and could feel a tear running down her face, dragging some mascara and foundation along with it. She wiped it off with defiance, smearing the color across her face. She stared at the pink smudge on her finger and felt a surge of determination.
My makeup may be flaking. But I'm still Kate Moreau.
And I'm not giving up.