Thread: Bringing Him Back {Gypsy and Alan23}

One thing was for certain when Delilah conversed with Noel. She liked the sound of his voice. It was exceptional. The assistant had never heard of it. Even Liam Neeson or Morgan Freeman, master storytellers, whose passion and pain could be heard in every holy word they uttered, only wished for a voice like Noel's. It was a voice that swept up and down the scale and was, at times, filled with deep, lush, apocalyptic emotion. At other times, it was a burning falsetto of hope and love, and seemed too big to come from his throat, lungs, or diaphragm. While it ostensibly shaded a carmine tint on her cheeks everlastingly, it was sheer delight to listen to. Perhaps another day. I wouldn't want to exhaust you from reopening old wounds all in one wave. Her agreement was accompanied by a click of her pen, readying to take down notes if need be. You've to tell me about these channels as well. I understand that it's one of your coping methods, and it would be vital to employ that to its full extent whenever revelations like this occurred. I'll help in every way I can, of course. After being presented with the scratch pad, she plucked it from his grasp and inspected it singly. Not once did Noel ever touch a pen and paper out of his own volition the moment he was admitted in White Lane, save for the papers that needed his signature. Vigilantly, she browsed through the pages of his notes, fascinated and mesmerized. You must tell me your plans about this. It wouldn't hurt to write vignettes about your notes. It's a good exercise, Noel. One I will encourage wholeheartedly. There was so much progress in one day with her patient that Delilah had on a proud grin on her face. His sketch of Monsieur Noir arrested her attention its a rough caricature that reminded her of an antihero in movies, cartoons and comic books. He looks quite eccentric as do most Parisians. No wonder. Even in this draft, I can tell he has quite a magnetic mien about him. Other comments about him dwindled as a new anecdote left his lips. Delilah was entranced in the world he shared with her, envisioning the characters in his story as if they were right before her eyes quarreling like immature children and braving the front like patriotic soldiers. In the end, Noel elicited a genuine laugh from her as it came to their conclusion. At the same time, she spotted Bradley and planned to invite him to their little conversation when his comment astonished her. Sky blue irises widened in disbelief as the man who casually abandoned them with an elephant for the pair to address. The assistant shifted in her seat, avoiding Noel's gaze as the clipboard apparently held the most entertaining show known to man for a number of heartbeats. Only then did a strained chuckle arise from the female. The um, Cindy is a pretty woman though. It was a lame remark, she knew, one to divert the attention from her. Yet she immediately recognized and corrected the situation, and instead of fleeing from confrontation, she faced it. I, uh, Noel thank you. Anxiety led her to readjust her frames and push and errant strand behind her ear, an indisputable and demure smile curling her crescents. It's truly flattering. You've met a lot of women, and to be considered as A familiar tone of voice interrupted Delilah. It reverberated from the receiving area of the home, loud and stern, demanding her appearance. Only one person could cause a scene like that in her work area, and she knew the reason why. Excuse me, Noel. I think I have a visitor. I'll be right back. Hastily, she fled the recreation room and into the lobby. Just as she thought, her mother had arrived. Divina Haswell could hardly be associated to be Delilah's mother. In every way, she was the exact opposite of the young assistant. With bleached platinum hair and icy eyes, the leggy blonde was thinner than her daughter in every way possible. Not only that, while her child was physically challenged, the older woman was grace and elegance personified. Pageantry was rooted in her very veins, and she had a tendency to look at anyone she conversed with between her nose. Whether it was by habit or on purpose, Delilah wasn't saved from her mother's scrutinizing gaze. Her stare started from head to toe, examining her daughter like a specimen needed to be dissected. Such a look prompted Delilah to tug the white coat close to her chest self-consciously and utilizing the clipboard as a sort of barrier. In case the older female decided to claw her daughter's heart out. Mother, what are you doing here? Delilah questioned sotto voce after apologizing to the receptionist for the inconvenience, leading her away from any potential listeners. Have you forgotten about the dinner I've set you up with Aaron tonight? Always straight to the point. Aaron, if Delilah recalled correctly, was one of her father's friend who was twenty two years her senior. Divina's voice was sharp, imposing the fact that Delilah had no choice to attend in spite of the inquiry she raised. I'm here to remind you, so you no longer have an excuse of forgetting it. This is a very important pairing, Delilah darling. You're at that age where you're ripe for picking. It's a time for action such that by the time you're twenty five, you'd be engaged. Aaron's a kind man, and he owns a small chain of high class restaurants. You and your children would never be hungry. Don't let that go to waste. Understand? Her mother had a habit of cradling Delilah's face just as she spewed condescension, her palm cold with misplaced affection, and that was what occurred here. I'm twenty three, mother. I have a career to build and The integer that silenced her lips irritated Delilah to a point that she batted away the hand. I can't go to the dinner tonight. I have a patient to take care of. I am finally making progress with him, and I don't want to lose that momentum. Please. This is important to me than this matchmaking hobby of yours. Noel Trent? That drug addict charge of yours? Delilah darling, he's a hopeless case. Nothing's wrong with him. He just desires the attention you silly people give him. He's just a conceited limelight leech who enjoys these people fussing about him. Trust me. I've been in this industry long enough to recognize the likes of him. Leave him be. Do not let him drag you down with him, child. In the end, all your efforts will be a waste, and you will realize that it's far too late to recover the lost time you've spent on him. I cannot comprehend why you chose this profession anyway. It's baffling. Too stunned at her mother's tirade, Delilah allowed the grip Divina had on her arm, twirling her around. Why are you even wearing such a tacky coat? I thought only your bosses wear these things. And your hair, sweetheart, it's a mess. Her inspection led to the lifting of Delilah's coat, exposing the tear on her skirt without care of who would witness them. A disappointed tut tut tut escaped the blonde, humiliating her daughter even further. How in heavens name did you get that? You're such a clumsy girl, Delilah. Who would like such a thing? If only you had taken those lessons when you were young, you wouldn't have two left feet.