Thread: Bringing Him Back {Gypsy and Alan23}

Most of Delilah's presumptions with regards to Noel were duly disproved once she crossed the threshold to his quarters. Had he portrayed antagonism, he would be met with indifference tartness with civility detachment with sympathy. Yet, with a conjunction of diffidence, self-deprecation and courteousness, a catch-22 met her at the helm. For someone who was all but reclusive whenever their session with Dr. Walt commenced, this somewhat accommodating acceptance was a pleasant turn of events. It scarcely evicted her mind from the gutter however, for it seemed like they favored the real estate there and would hardly budge for anything else when there was half-clothed man in her presence. If only the patient she was assigned to wasn't a former fame starlet who had the charisma to charm even a wall, her occupation would be far easier, sans excessive perspiration and unnecessary discomposure too. As he sat, she too occupied the seat opposite of him, crossing her legs as subtle, sidelong glances were often sent to him after seizing the clipboard. Another thing to add in the list of perplexities she accumulated ever since Dr. Walt relinquished this case to her was the home's tolerance of Noel's vices. The cancer stick he indulged in at present should have been confiscated, yet the orderlies seemingly opted to turn a blind eye. Lung cancer on top of possible dementia was something Delilah was determined to prevent at all costs. While it didn't bother her directly, for the scent of the thick, rich cigar eclipsing the room inspired fond memories of her dad in the assistant, her concerns mostly revolved around how the effects this laxity would affect his recovery. Ink tarnished the immaculate white of her pad as she scribbled her notes, listening to his declarations with a considerate look and an avid ear. Her gaze alternated from the patient to her notations, never lingering too long on the former in hopes of staving off the heat that would surely tint her cheeks. At first, his belittlement of himself elicited a small smile to cross her face before fashioning her features to polite interest once more. This feeling was short-lived, however, for his speech bore the inflections of a type of wisdom from having seen too much, too many. The question, in this case, would always be what . Everything that had led to Noel's admission to White Lane was a mystery that was difficult to solve. Only he had the clues they could utilize, yet even he, himself, refused to take part in the investigation. His voluntary repression was the foremost obstacle, and only he would be able to surmount it. What so many have tried and what Delilah was attempting at present, a push in treatments and a word in therapies, would all be in vain if the origin rebuffed their efforts with his obstinacy. How could he think he was as a lost cause when he wouldn't even help himself? Now, why would you think that handling your case would be some sort of sentence? The Wartas you so fondly call himand I have been with you for awhile now and, I assure you, it is by no means a burden. We're here to help, however way we can, so it's good of you to take your prescribed medications. Blitheness laced her delivery, matching it with an affable smile against his cynicism, his nonchalant mien mollifying her ever-present anxiety. Delilah endeavored to focus at the task at hand even as he moved to the bed and tempted fate to execute a mortifying denuding with the towel that sired his privates. The potential exhibition disconcerted her, flushing her pallor with a shade of red she often adopted whenever her mother coerced her to drink wine in some absurd gathering of hers. She adjusted her glasses and sat a little straighter, finding her blouse far too stuffy with its fitting and sleeves at the moment. Perhaps you should get dressed before we continue. I'm getting tired of ignoring your nipples stand. Wouldn't want you to get a cold on top of vitamin e deficiency, occasional bloodlust and allergies to garlic. I've noticed you've been cooped up in here for awhile. She stood and smoothed down her black pencil skirt, politely turning her back on him so he could dress and diverting her attention on the shelves attached to the wall. Much of his books were here, on display paperbacks, hardbacks, limited editions adorned the ledges which speckled his room. Her fingers grazed the spines of the hardback novels of The Harley Flitcroft series, a series she had started reading and he had abjured completing, before procuring the second book in the rank. I hardly see you visit the rec room, or even leave your room for that matter. A breath of fresh Sacramento air beyond these four walls can do wonders, Noel. It might improve your mood. Not to mention the weather is particularly pleasant today. Let's not waste it. We can discuss these dreams you've been having among other important things. Perhaps an exercise too.