Participants:
| Scene Title | An Emo's Independance |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Brian and Delia have a little talk, a little cry, and a little poop. |
| Date | January 6, 2011 |
Dorchester Towers — Russo's Apartment
Delia's been awake for nearly as long as Brian has been in the apartment. The good news is, no more diaper duty, the redhead is ashamed enough after being told that this was the guy that did it all. She doesn't talk much when people are around, if at all. Every once in a while there's a little sound coming from her room like she's reading to herself from the collection of cardboard books. For the most part she's perfectly content on her own.
But not right now… it's lunchtime.
Russo has a way of making meals good, the best food in the history of food. Brian has a way of making it fun. Today's choice on the menu is spaghettios. With a little bit of a grimace, Delia glances from her bowl, to Brian and then back to her bowl. It's not exactly finger food…
Walking back from the wall, a plastic bag is dumped onto the table next to the cheerio's. Brian looks down at it with a little arched eyebrow, motioning for her to look inside.
When she does she'll find a pair of jeans. Pants that he had promised her right before she got lost inside all the dreams she's been traveling through this month.
But it was a promise. And at least he delivers on some of his promises. Looking down at the bowl boredly then back up to her, one finger extends. Moving his hand the finger is pressed down into the bowl of orange gunk then withdrawn. He then takes his finger and pokes it on Delia's forehead right between the eyes. "Look you're indian." He smiles brightly before putting the finger in his mouth and licking off the gook.
Taking a step back, he goes to sit across from her. "So I know you don't remember any of it. But.. you and I have been through a lot this month. A lot of good memories. You've been a good listener, a good pillow, a good cupholder. Yeah I know.. there were rough patches. Sometimes things got a little runny. But we made it through together." He smiles lightly over at her.
Russo had been careful to pick out clothes that are durable and stain resistant. Good thing too because Delia's sleeve is the recipient of a lovely little orange streak when she wipes the dot from her forehead. There's a little scowl on her face as she gingerly picks a noodle from the bowl and flings it at him, but she's way off the mark. It hits the wall near the door and sticks for a half a minute before sliding down, leaving a runny streak behind it.
The jeans though, they get the place of honor, right under the iPad. She hasn't used it much today, mostly just to surf google for phone numbers and things. Not that she can call anyone or write them down. But she can memorize them. Delia's been memorizing a lot of stuff today.
Picking up her spoon, she holds it like a child. Her first wrapped tightly around the handle with her thumbs sticking down the side. It's jammed into her lunch and she opens her mouth wide to get the first bites and… misses completely, hitting her cheek.
His eyes follow the jeans as they are just put under something else. A light frown pulls down at his lips. He was expecting more squealing and maybe slightly more handflailing. But thrown noodles will have to do. His head swings to the left to avoid the noodle. Even though he was already in the safe haven of Delia's terrible aim. Looking back at the noodle wall he grimaces lightly. Someone should clean that up…. Someone.
Looking back to Delia he watches her spoon rise up and then… Cheek'd. A light giggle drops out of his lips a sharp 'pss' sound breaking out. The sound you make when you're trying to hold in a laugh at someone who's been in a coma for over a month and now sucks at life. His teeth gleam brightly though should she have a scowl for him. "You want help? I've been feeding you for a while. I'm pretty good at it."
The sauce and little noodle-o's dripping off her face present a rather comical picture. At least her makeup matches her hair. Putting the spoon down on the tray, she uses her sleeve to wipe the rest off her cheek, letting it fall all over her covers without a care. She picks up the iPad and quickly exits the browser, hiding the advertisement for a strip club in Brooklyn. Pulling up the notepad, she touches the plastic coated screen with her sticky fingers and types out a little message.
no thx, need 2 do it self
thx 4 teh jeens i dot hav n e else just yoga
Holding it up toward him to read, she gives him a little return smile and places the iPad on top of the jeans again. It really is a place of honor… all of her best presents get to share the pillow beside hers, the rest are scattered around the bed or tucked away for later use. The spoon is picked up again, dug into the noodles, and then instead of moving the spoon toward her mouth, she moves her mouth toward the spoon. Half of it makes it in, triumph!
"I was joking." Brian says softly. "I'm not going to feed you."The smile is gentle, as he reads the words she types. "You're welcome. Anything else you want?" His smile becomes brighter when she manages to get some noodles in her mouth. His hands actually come together to make a tiny applause.
"So.. Do you know how you got here? I mean.. Do you know why this whole thing started? You can just nod or shake your head." His own chin goes to rest in his palm as he watches her quietly. "I mean, do you even care?"
There's a jerky little nod of her head, her red curls bouncing a little when Delia gives him the answer to the affirmative. Using her index finger, she pokes herself in the chest and with the same hand, waves it through the air. Her fingers waggle like jazz hands, evidently trying to make a fly away motion, or some sort of new dance move. Take your pick.
Another spoonful of noodles makes it way toward her mouth before she pauses and ducks her head toward the spoon. It seems to work better that way. Munching proudly on the mouthful she gets a little bit cocky and tries to show off and do it again. This time, the spoon slides across her eyebrow and into her hair.
Brian grimaces lightly. "That girl that.. had you fly away? Or that you flew away with. Um.. That is my girlfriend." His lips close tightly. "I don't know if you remember.. the elephant. And when we kissed." His head tilts to the side. "That was our first kiss so you're really in on the ground floor of this relationship. Um. She is really very sorry about this whole thing. If it's okay.. She'd probably like to come see you.. You know. Apologize."
Like a month in a coma can just be apologized for. A little laughter rings out as she spaghettio's her hair. Clapping his hand to his mouth, the laughter still comes out. "You'll get a hold of it. I'm sure…" Maybe she won't.
The poor iPad, it really needs something to protect it from the redhead. Dropping her spoon on the tray, Delia grabs it up again with two hands and begins pecking carefully at the screen. There's a little sniff and a huff as she seems to be conteplating exactly what to say, it's not so easy with limited communications to say everything she wants.
sok my falt i wuz wrned nto to do stuff liek taht
The sticky device is handed off to Brian for him to read, and she concentrates on her lunch again. At least she's been getting her appetite back and her color. The rest… well she'll probably be close to emaciated for a long time to come.
Taking the iPad, he glances over it. Reading it he gives a little nod before typing his own little message in. With proper spelling because, come on.
want to meet her
Standing up, Brian goes to get some paper towels. Wiping the ipad off he returns to Delia and sets it in front of her. But then he goes the extra mile. There's something about bathing and changing someone's diapers for a month. There's no longer any personal space. Taking one of her hands, he rubs the sauce off and then switches to the other. Then goes to wipe her forehead and hair. Giving her back a little pat he goes to sit across from her once again. "How does your back feel? I tried to roll you over often enough.. but.. I imagine you still might be a little sore. I even took you out into the sun every now and then." He smiles brightly.
ys pleeease
She tries proper spelling but coma for a month makes things a little difficult. Tugging at her lower lip with her teeth, the young woman grimaces as Brian cleans her off and sets everything right again. In answer to his question, she shrugs her shoulders and gives a little seesaw hand before switching back to the iPad for ease.
back s goddd arms hurt
In all fairness, she's been using them a lot more than anything else aside from her head and neck. The few trips she's taken away from the bed are heavily assisted. Glancing up to Brian, she chews on her lower lip again and raises her eyebrows. "Niick?"
"He went out." For all Brian doesn't trust the Interpol agent, the other man had started to grow on him. So he doesn't make fun of Delia for asking for him. But he could have. His brows narrow a little bit as he smirks a bit. "Shouldn't you be asking for whatshisnuts?" Jaiden. A man bigger than him. Which isn't a way to make Brian like you. Jaiden should have gone back and taken a couple inches off.
"Sorry." He murmurs, giving her an apologetic look. He gives a light shrug. He did his best. "I can call Nick, if you want me to." He gives a light shrug, going to take a seat again.
Lowering her head, Delia looks a little bit ashamed when Brian mentions Jaiden and she shakes her head. Running her hand over the screen, she slowly enters in probably the most shameful thing she's ever had to admit in her entire life.
didnt rape jaiden
She sniffles then and turns her head away from Brian, letting the iPad drop from her hand onto the covers for him to see. Her shoulders sink and she folds her hands together, using them to nudge the tray away. Two and a half bites is enough before crying.
"I wouldn't either." He murmurs as he glances at the ipad. "Yuck." Brian concurs, "Nick is a lot better." As the iPad is set down and then the spaghetti and then the tears.. His lips thin, his eyes going to the side. As if he doesn't see her. He doesn't notice her crying so he has no responsibility. Just got to.. Go.. Oh he should go take a look at this.. Broken thing over here that probably needs fixing before someone gets hurt.. because that's what broken things do…
Finally his attention reluctantly drags back over to Delia. Maaan. Making his way back over to her slowly. He bends slightly, one hand going to the side of her head. He pulls her into his chest slowly, his other hand going to rest on her back soothingly.
She doesn't make a sound when the tears spill down her face, there's no wailing, no squeaky bawling, nothing more than a sniffle or two to mark that it's actually happening. Grabbing up her iPad, she taps out another few lines for him.
he hates me
i hurt him
he wont let me say sorry
The punctuation isn't there, neither are there upper case letters, but the spelling is correct. She's making an effort just for him.
He doesn't know the situation. He doesn't know what Nick thinks. But he does know, "He doesn't hate you." Brian assures. "People don't do things for people if they hate.."Umm.. "What Nick did for you what he wanted to do for you. That's not hate. If he's acting like a dick it's because he's a six year old on a playground stuffing the pretty girl's face in the sand."
His hand traces her back gently, head coming forward to rest against hers. "And even if he does.. It doesn't matter. You.." Uhh. "You did what you had to do."
A long sigh is the only answer Brian receives from Delia on the matter. Whether or not the agent hates her is still a matter of debate. He won't let her apologize and she hasn't seen a hair of him since Brian relieved him of the redhead after the crash. She lets her babysitter soothe her woes though, even granting him a small sniffle or two to indicate that she's finally stopped with her emotional outburst.
if you see himmmm,?
The rest of it isn't asked, Brian's a smart guy, he probably knows what she wants to say. "Brry-in?" she holds up her head and pulls away just a little. There's a little grimace on her face as she ducks her head to glance down the hallway.
"Yeah." Brian murmurs to the iPad. His attention then returns to her. "Yes Deeeleeeuhhh?" He asks a smal smile twitching on his lips. He glances down the hallway. Is it pooping time. Reaching down his hand goes to take her wrist, sliding it over her shoulder he starts to straighten. One hand going to secure her waist and pressing her more up against him. He's doing most of the work this way, but it allows her a very tiny bit of independence.