Fantasy Adieu

[Early]

Dezmond

The Materialist of Heaven

Location:

Michayla's Home

Mood:

Serene

tags

Aneres

Aside from the sudden company earlier, the night pressed on without any commotion. The mundane would occur, things Dezmond had noticed hundreds of times by now, if not more. A neighbor coming home in the midnight hour after another grueling day of work, or even playful cats getting in tussles in the yard. The hooting of the resident owl, and the clatter of tree branches against the house during sudden pick ups in the breeze. All of which went on as they always had, but something was different tonight.

Closing the book he'd started a few hours before, Dezmond would let out a content yet sorrow filled sigh. It was always bittersweet to finish a good story, after all, though now with his attention free he'd be all too aware of his surrounding. Bringing his right wrist up, he'd take a moment to check the time - Only three in the morning meaning there was still plenty of time before sunrise. Though this wasn't his reason for checking the time, it was instead because something rare was happening. With golden eyes leaving his watch, he'd look to Michayla curiously. Her skin pale as usual, though the normal sheen of sweat was nowhere to be seen. In fact, she'd been rather still in her slumber this night and has yet to rise for the ritual meeting with the toilet.

With his eyes on her now, observing her while she slept, he couldn't help but wonder why she looked so solemn while she slept. Unmoving, and showing no signs of pain or the usual ache, she still seemed to be emotional over something. Though Dezmond did not sleep, he understood what a dream was and that she very well may be experiencing one. It is as he wondered just what her dreamland may be like that the angel realized how intently he had been watching her face while she slept. How he'd been observing her lips, and how they ever so slightly moved with her slow breathing.

As if guilty he'd advert his gaze, slight color rising to his own cheeks though unnoticed in the dark of the room. "How obvious can I be..." He'd mutter quietly in the still room, his gaze lifting to the ceiling and narrowing for a moment - As if looking to a hole which one was looking back through. He had no way of knowing if those if Heaven were tuned in yet, but he'd still give an annoyed stare none the less. "Tsk." With a sound of criticism clicking from his tongue, he'd conjure forth yet another book and flip it open. He had been aware of the change in schedule, and for now he wouldn't question a gift as nice as this. Though he couldn't help but be suspicious that Michaylas full nights rest may be the cause of an outside force.

The next five hours went by just as the the past few, though Dezmond made sure to keep taking breaks to check on Michayla what with this night being such a difference from the usual. It was around eight in the morning that he'd wondered if he should wake her, still skimming his way towards the ending of the second book of the night. Yet, he wouldn't have to act on such thoughts as soon enough the sheets shifted with a sudden jolt, and a sound of surprise would come from Michayla in her waking breath. With golden eyes peering over his book which still covered the lower half of his face, Dezmond would keenly look towards Michayla as she took in her surroundings. Just to be safe, he waited until she looked to him before shutting the book and setting it aside on the arm of the chair; Then offering a full and warm smile in return. After all, he had no way of knowing if she'd even see him after all.

Sitting in the sunlight that washed over the room in a pure unfiltered radiance, Dezmond would appear to visibly shine in the morning glow. His eyes at their brightest and warmest, matched with the radiant smile he offered in return to her own growing grin. Though what really fixed his expression in place were the first words she offered in this new day of theirs. "It is now." He'd respond happily, his eager intent to start the day with her clear in his tone. It's as he spoke that he'd shift out of the chair and close the distance to the bed, only to then move to sit at its edge with his side to Michayla, his eyes finding hers again while wearing the same kind expression as always. "You seemed to have slept well for once. Pleasant dreams, I'd hope?" Dezmond asked, not wanting to seem overly worried with how she woke, but still curious none the less. Nor was he wanting to open up with the meeting he'd had with his brother during the night. At this point, he wasn't sure he was going to tell her about it at all.

code by @Nano

 

[Aneres]

location
Bedroom

interaction
Early

mood
Optimistic

Michayla Macy

“Pleasant dreams, I’d hope?”​

A knot of anxiety formed in Michayla’s throat and snaked it’s way down into her chest, gripping hold of and burning itself deep into her lungs. His words, like a constant ringing, resonated between her ears, and all she could see was her father’s smile and those huge, towering, intimidating gates. What was it about this dream that shook her so deeply to her core? Mickey had told herself time and time again that she had to come to terms with her mortality. Her chances of remission were slim to none and, more likely than not, she would one day succumb to her disease. She had faced the countless nights of lying awake, thoughts too loud and overbearing, with the heaviness of her future sitting on her chest and suffocating her. How many hours had she spent blankly staring at those emailed documents, the letters and numbers blending together on the screen that placed everything in her life in neat little lines of assets and equity? Yet she never could bring herself to hit print and sign. She had never allowed herself to tip over the brink of despair, no matter how many times she leaned over that particular cliff and stared straight into its gaping mouth. Perhaps she wasn’t as prepared as she had once led herself to believe…

...especially now as she turned her gaze up to the beautiful man that sat beside her, a halo of warm luminescence refracting off of his silhouette and casting gentle, soft rays along the curves of her body. Mickey reached forward and took his right hand between her own, bringing his knuckles to her lips and kissing them each individually, gently. With each whisper of breath across his skin, Mickey’s lips felt charged with electric tingles, almost as if his soft glow were leaving a bit of itself behind. Despite the intimacy of her actions, Michayla wished to be closer. She wanted to fully immerse herself in his glow, in his warmth. Adjusting herself accordingly, the young woman pulled herself forward and bent at the waist, resting her head in Dezmond’s lap and cradling his captured hand snugly against her chest. Inhaling deeply, Mickey would slowly let go of her exhale, her anxieties instantly quieting, melting into him as she curled herself tighter against his body.

Here, wrapped up in his presence, Michayla knew she was foolish to have ever believed she had truly come to terms with her future. As moot and hopeless as it may have seemed, especially with the terrifying new symptoms from the night before, Mickey wanted to get better. The events from the previous day had helped her realize that. Finding and taking home Michael’s saxophone reignited a long since evaporated passion for the craft, deep in her bones. She wanted to play music again, to sit amongst her chair mates and laugh and entertain audiences with her talents. Her afternoon with Theresa made Michayla long for more memories with her mother. Christmases, Thanksgivings...birthdays. And, finally, there was Dezmond. This beautiful, enigmatic, caring, and kind angel who had been with her through everything, who has seen her at her absolute lowest yet strived for her to push onward, even when she didn’t know it. She longed for the slow dances, the chared cups of tea, the stolen kisses and so much more. Her dream had filled her to the brim with anxieties and fear because, as likely as it seemed, it was s future she still wasn’t ready for.

“I was wandering and lost. It was pitch black, I couldn’t see anything. But, it felt like more than that. It felt...empty. Cold.” Michayla pulled herself tighter against Dezmond then, the remnants of her dream sending shivers down her spine.

“That’s when I felt it, something tugging at my intuition and calling me back. It was warm and safe. Turns out it was you.” Pausing for a brief moment to let her words settle, Mickey continued shortly thereafter.

“Dad was also there. We held each other for what felt like years. Then, the strangest things happened.” Bringing his hand from its cocoon against her chest, she rested Dezmond’s fingertips softly against her cheek. “I felt something brush my cheek. It was cold to the touch and barely there. I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it or not so when I turned to see, there was nothing. Minus something that looked like string, maybe?”

Bringing her lips to the inside of Dezmond’s wrist, Michayla could feel that familiar knot tangle itself into her vocal cords again, stunting her words and impairing her breathing. Why was this so difficult to say to him? Was it based on the fact that it served as a reminder of Dezmond’s true purpose? As blissful and wonderful as this felt with him, there would always be that grim shadow that lingered close behind, its cool breath licking at the back of Mickey’s neck. Swallowing past the ligature in her throat, Michayla continued.

“You stood beside me and embraced me. When I turned to face forward again, we were standing in front of the Gates. You and dad were welcoming me home…”

Twisting her shoulders and tilting her head to lay flat in his lap, the smoky grey of her eyes found and held the gentle topaz of his own, her hand extending and palming his squared jaw. She could feel her brow furrow as she spoke, a determined lilt changing her tone.

“Last night was...scary, to say the least. I don’t know what it means for me and I haven’t really decided how I’m going to handle that yet.” Huffing a bit under her breath, Michayla made the mental note to call her oncologist that afternoon. Maybe. Probably...not.

“Despite that, I was serious when I said that I wanted to start living again. I’m not ready to go yet. I want more time with my mom. I want to play again. I want more time with you. And yeah, I know I get that after it’s said and done, but I want you to be part of this life, here, with me. I want you to tell me about your favorite novelists and stories. I want to prepare meals with you that you don’t need to eat and share them over tea that you don’t need to drink. I want to teach you how to play an instrument and I want to be able to actually play for you again. Something special, just for you. Oh, and I’m sure you’d love gardening. Getting your fingers into the dirt and really feeling the soil? There’s nothing like it.”

Mickey could feel the heat rise in her cheeks as she realized the tangent she had found herself on. As quickly as she had mentioned the disaster from the previous evening, it had just as soon been replaced by her newfound excitement for life and the possibility of memories shared with her angel. She bit at the inside of her lip then, her eyes leaving him and instead focusing on the intricate design on his tie, suddenly feeling very shy.

“There’s just so much I haven’t been able to do with you that I’d really like the chance to…”

Turns out, it was you.

coded by incandescent

 

[Early]

Dezmond

The Materialist of Heaven

Location:

Michayla's Home

Mood:

Sheepish

tags

Aneres

Before he was able to put much thought into her hand taking his own, her warm breath would cause a shiver to run from his lower back to the top of his head. Her quiet kissing of his knuckles akin to worship, and the tenderness an obvious display of her affections. Though, they certainly weren't unwelcome, so as she soon shifted to be closer the very hand she had been holding and moved to rest against her face would move as he did to easily be there for her. Getting comfortable so she wouldn't have to strain to use his lap as a pillow, his hand she brought so close would move of its own accord and rest a palm almost wearily against her cheek. Once his courage settled his gentle touch would move, his fingertips moving up the side of her face, and thumb along her jawline before finally combing carefully through her admittedly unkempt hair.

Dezmond would bring his hand back to where it was, and continue this motion as she continued to speak about her dream, and even as Michayla started to ramble on about her hopes and desires in life; this one life that had time and time again been threatened by the blight that haunted her visibly even now. No amount of warmth or radiance he could offer would fix this, but it was clear from her words how he could help. If she wanted to experience living, and was willing to let him do so with her, then there would be no argument to be had. Though his expressions changed as she went on, looking down to her as she expressed interests they could share and offering visible answers on his opinions on them. The thought of hearing her perform again brought on an obvious joy, but the idea of her playing in his private company even caused his fingers to stop while tangled in her hair still. Sure, he'd heard her alone time and time before when she was practicing, but what she offered now was different. He'd love that. Though, an eyebrow would raise and his fingers would begin again as she mentioned gardening. An expression that could only mean 'really?' as she offered the notion of Dezmond, a man with manicured fingernails and not a crease on his suit to quite literally dig around in the dirt with his bare hands.

Maybe he wouldn't say it, but it was obvious she'd quite literally have to make him in order to get him out in the garden doing yard work. After all, Angels weren't the ones sent to the Garden, that was human kind.

"I know." Her guardian angel would finally respond, letting her know he at least was aware of her desires that she so feared may come into being. "I promise you that I'll help you find happiness in living again. Whatever it is you want to experience, or whatever it takes to bring back the warmth you once wore in your daily smile." Now as he spoke the only other sound would the shifting of fabric, his other hand moving under her upper back only to pull her up further against himself, cradling her upper body with her head now against his shoulder. Holding her closer, one arm around her waist keeping her turned up facing him, he'd move his other hand right back where it had been before to rest upon her cheek. "We can experience it together." Soft words uttered with his own face just before her own, his smile never fading but there was a certain change she may notice. Upon his ivory complexion he too wore a lively rosy hue that was all the more visible in the morning glow, an angels blush exposing the feelings in his words to be all the more true.

Without much thought, and with Michayla now so near, his body would move of its own accord. Leaning down with his now narrowing eyes still upon her own, his lips would move to meet her own. Yet, a brief pause would cause issue with his thoughtless plan, his mind once again becoming his own as he remembered an uncomfortable fact. All moments like these weren't just their own anymore, and there was a certain awkwardness in realizing ones own brother may be watching in your most intimate of moments. So even if Michayla were to brace herself for a tender morning kiss, maybe even one she too had hoped for, it would never come. Instead his full lips that shown with the thin sheen of lip gloss would lightly press against her forehead, his hand moving up from her cheek to brush aside her hair to do so. After which, he'd lean back up and offer a full smile, his intent behind his words still strong.

"No day better than today to start." Dezmond would offer, giving a quick wink of his left eye and a sly smirk shortly there after. "Unless one of your hopes was to spend the day in bed."

code by @Nano

 

[Aneres]

location
Bedroom

interaction
Early

mood
Titilated

Michayla Macy

The moment came and, much to Mickey’s disappointment went. The breath she had been holding would pass through her lips as a soft sigh, her eyes finding and holding his own. She searched the depths of his golden orbs, looking for some indication as to why he may have stopped and instead opted for the safer of the two options. While she didn’t doubt the words spoken, she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a bit crestfallen. What had changed since the night before to divert his affections? When previously they had shared the same heat and hunger, his hands fisting and pulling her blouse tight against her body, he now instead chose a path more guarded.

"Unless one of your hopes was to spend the day in bed."​

A deep scarlet hue bled into Michayla’s pale cheeks and lit her chest ablaze. Surely, Dezmond couldn’t have meant that in the way that she had obviously taken it. Though he had pulled her up into his lap, the safer choice of lip placement contradicted the meaning behind his words. Yet, that inviting wink and unintentionally sexy smirk left Michayla flustered and wanting. She bit at her lower lip, her hands reaching for his own and pulling them down into her lap. Looking up at him with hooded eyes, her long lashes delicately framing the want that stirred in their grey depths, Mickey didn’t take too much time thinking over her next move. Instead, much like the night before, she opted to just go with it and see where her choices led her.

Holding either of his wrists tightly bound in the palms of her hands, Mickey would quickly adjust her stance, pulling one leg over Dezmond’s lap and straddling him. With his chin now brushing her exposed collarbone, Mickey offered the angel an impish grin before using her weight to push him back onto the plush mattress, her hands still securely fastened around his wrists, her face mere inches from his. Now that she had committed to the idea and had found herself in this rather exploitative position, she wasn’t quite sure where she wanted to take this. Gulping past her nerves, heat rising in her belly, and setting her skin on fire, she would lean forward then and press her lips ever so carefully to the underside of his jaw. Her breath was hot and needy against his neck, Mickey having to bite at her own lip to prevent herself from nipping at the tantalizing porcelain of exposed skin.

“What’s the matter, angel? You’re not afraid of getting a bit...dirty, are you?” A play on words, Mickey having obviously caught his distaste at the idea of getting dirt beneath his manicured nails and over his immaculate suit. She wasn’t sure if Dezmond would catch the subtle call back to his expression, but Michayla was having much too much fun to honestly care. A soft, suggestive chuckle would vibrate against his throat as she placed one more peck to his skin, pulling herself up then and peering down at her angel. The way his lips parted, the deep, rich tint that colored his cheeks. She didn’t think he could look anymore divine. Choosing to release his wrists and drag her fingers ever so gently over the length of his arms, Michayla took her time feeling the delicate fabric of his shirt, the muscle hidden beneath it teasing at Mickey’s already ravenous desire as she pulled herself up into a seated position. Their height difference, in truth, was even more pronounced now that she had him sprawled beautifully in front of her. Her hands rested gently on his chest while she sat upright in his lap, his heartbeat drumming urgently underneath her fingers and matching the tempo of her own. Michayla inspected him closely then. The rise and fall of his chest. How his tie sat slightly disheveled over his now wrinkled button-down. The look on his face. Then, and only then, did Mickey have a brief moment of clarity. How many times had he seen her in a similar predicament, another body splayed beneath her, or she beneath them? Had he averted his gaze from the act or had he looked on? Had he ever wished for it to be him tangled up with her? Did angels even feel anything similar to lust or desire…? Suddenly, the little game she had initiated made her feel less elated and floaty and more so embarrassed and foolish. What the hell was she doing, and how the hell did she recover from it?

Michayla now sat there, frozen yet trembling ever so slightly. Whatever confidence she had held previously had all but vanished, the reality and weight of the situation setting in and settling heavily on her thoughts. He wasn’t just some man that had fallen into bed with her or whom she had met out and about. He was, quite literally, her guardian angel. A being who had watched her from birth, every kiss, every fondle, every romance, and every heartbreak. While she fought with the idea of rather or not he even was capable of any kind of physical attraction to her, the ever-present memory of their lips locked in a moment of passion on her kitchen floor kept replaying on loop as a proposed rebuttal, one that left the poor woman even more shaken and confused. How uncomfortable could this have possibly made him? The thought terrified Mickey and left her sick to her stomach. What the hell was she doing?!

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, failing to cover her faulty words with a shaky breath.

“I really didn’t think this through.”

Ignited passions.

coded by incandescent

 

[Early]

Dezmond

The Materialist of Heaven

Location:

Michayla's Home

Mood:

Flustered

tags

Aneres

Dezmond may not be the quickest to catch a great many things, but he was keen on noticing even the subtlest of changes in Michayla. Her response to his final comment a surprise, wondering just what it is he'd done to deserve such a look of surprise? Though his list of questions would simply grow and grow, as the eager girl he once held in his lap had discovered a newfound source of bravery. A kind that was simmered and cooked with lust, a feeling rather foreign - but new.

With the rustling of the sheets and bedding being all that filled the room aside from the still morning glow, a light gasp would escape from the timid lips of the soon pinned down angel. Now gazing up with an almost worried look in his eyes, and barely parted lips agape yet wordless from the shock of the current situation. Even though this was all so sudden to him, and so new, his reflexes would betray him and while her lips found the cool ivory skin along his neck and jawline he'd tilt his head back and to the side; Offering himself subconsciously to her will. With teeth clenching tight, and lips pursed shut, he'd still in an attempt to keep any embarrassing sounds from stumbling through his mouth. The sensation currently offered being such a new and of course confusing one.

Yet the seductive whisper from the muse he watched over all these years broke down his attempt to keep cool, her reference to his earlier response causing a shutter to ripple down his entire body, starting at the flesh nearest her parting lips. Of course he wasn't confused as to what she was doing, or the intent and meaning behind those words, he was simply confused as to how he should act upon them. Unlike her, he didn't exactly have that much experience in this. Opposed to her rapid realization that he maybe has seen such displays before, that wasn't the case. In any instance she was experiencing a private moment, he'd gone off elsewhere. There were times before where he'd more or less walked in on a rather intimate display but never once had he'd stuck around to... Well, learn.

It's as she now sat there, still straddling his lap, that Dezmonds burning blush would show clearly just how her actions had effected him - Much more so than her kiss the night prior. Even as Michayla did what she had time and time before, throwing herself into a loop of self doubt and worry, would Dezmond show his embarrassment; Though no longer from what she'd done, rather what he was about to do in response. With his hands that once rested above his head, having been pinned back and teased, Dezmond would reach out and bring his palms to rest upon her knees. From there, he'd move them up, and along her thighs, before pausing. At this point, it was now his turn to tremble, but for a different reason entirely. The normally cool, collected, and proud angel had yet to experience such nervousness in his many, many years.

"I-It's fine." He'd stutter out, his voice barely above that of a whisper. His eyes having been on his own hand, as if having to will himself to even consider being so bold. Though as he swallowed back his own self doubts, his golden eyes would raise and meet her own. Knowing well eye contact would be important to get across his seriousness, even if his eyes were only barely brighter than his cheeks right now. "I want to, too." With a little more strength behind his words, he'd reassure her that she wasn't alone in desire. It may not have been the intention behind his earlier words, but he wanted her to know she was certainly not alone in these shared feelings.

"However..." A pause, before a weary look showed in his eyes. "If it's okay with you, would you let me take you out properly, first?"

code by @Nano

 

[Aneres]

location
Bedroom

interaction
Early

mood
Enlivened

Michayla Macy

A strained sigh of relief passed through Michayla’s lips with a quick exhale. She had been holding onto that breath for what felt like an eternity, even if she hadn’t readily been aware of it. Rather it was from his sudden yet cautious exploration of her milky thighs or the reassurance that he shared her desires, Mickey couldn’t be sure. Placing one hand squarely on her chest while the other brushed through and tangled in her messy bedhead, she couldn’t help but laugh a bit at herself and the spiral of her recent thoughts. While she couldn’t be too terribly hard on herself (how was she supposed to know what was and wasn’t appropriate with an actual angel?), Michayla still chastised herself a bit and had to remind herself that this was just as foreign and new for him as it was for her. Instead of allowing herself to get swallowed up in her own dismay, something that was very much a Mickey quirk, she needed to express her thoughts more concisely. Although, it seemed Dezmond had no real trouble reading her. What else did she expect? He very much likely knew her better than anyone else ever had.

“However…” the pause in his cadence pulled Michayla out of her self reprimanding and back into the present, finding the glowing depths of his golden eyes slightly dulled by the weariness that crept to the forefront. It stung a bit. “If it’s okay with you, would you let me take you out properly, first?”

Another unexpected turn of events, one that only deepened the rosy hue of Mickey’s cheeks and made her chest swell. For the short time that she had known Dezmond personally, there was no doubt in Michayla’s mind that he carried himself with a gentlemanly pride, one that didn’t stem from arrogance but rather from a place of sincere appreciation for chivalry and care. Though some may have chalked his behavior up to his stature and being, Mickey knew that it was less about being an angel and it was more about Dezmond being Dezmond. That’s who he was, to his core. A gentleman that wanted to court his most precious person properly. The idea left Michayla giddy.

As much as she enjoyed feelings his slender fingers and palms pressed to the tender skin of her thighs, Mickey wanted even more so to feel his touch tangled in her own, to return to the tenderness she had expressed upon starting her day so close to the individual of her affections. She would reach down and lace his fingers between her own, giving them a reaffirming squeeze before pulling him back up into a seated position. Once his chest was flush against her own, their noses gently brushing one another, she’d release his hands only to wrap her arms around his neck. She would bury her face into the nape of his neck then, inhaling deeply and simply losing herself in his essence. The halo of energy that seemed to hug his silhouette almost felt as if it had bled over and enclosed Michayla in its warmth as well. She chose to sit there for a moment, simply feeling the rise and fall of his chest with her own, feeling the drumming between her ears dull down from an overwhelming thrum to a manageable vibration. Once she had that under control, she’d reluctantly detach herself from his shoulders, her palms now finding and cradling his beautifully sculpted face between them. He was absolutely beautiful in every sense of the word, his golden eyes retaining their shimmer amongst his ignited, diaphanous skin. Michayla could’ve spent the rest of her life staring into those welcoming eyes and be completely content.

“Do you even need to ask?” she’d ask simply. Naturally, she knew the answer to her half asked question before it passed through her lips. Of course, he would. That’s just how Dezmond operated. Leaning forward carefully, her breath catching and causing pause before pressing her lips to his own, Michayla instead opted to press them delicately to either of his cheeks before sitting back and granting him a warm, sincere smile. She needed to take her time with Dezmond, to wade through the waters of whatever was budding between them cautiously and at a pace that was comfortable for both of them. Despite the never-ending tick of the clock that resonated in the back of her mind, a constant reminder that time may not be something she had the option of toying with. Still, she felt secure in knowing that whatever time she had left, would be spent with her guardian angel. She just needed to take a deep breath from time to time and allow herself to remember that.

It was then that a mischievous grin would pull at the corners of her mouth, her left eyebrow arching as she playfully tapped a finger against his chin. “I will go along with whatever you have planned happily but, only after you come and play in the dirt with me.” Instantly her thoughts filled with the look of distaste he didn’t bother to hide earlier and she laughed before he had the chance to furrow his brow in a similar fashion.”I do have gloves to keep your hands clean, you know. But, if it’s something you’d truly rather avoid, then I’ll be content with you simply watering after I transplant. Deal?” Lifting a pinkie expectantly, hoping that he would agree to her compromise, Mickey wiggled the small finger impatiently, awaiting the sealed promise.

Do you even need to ask?

coded by incandescent

 

[Early]

Dezmond

The Materialist of Heaven

Location:

Michayla's Home

Mood:

Eager

tags

Aneres

Careful eyes watched Michayla while she took in his request, though Dezmond wasn't surprised in seeing her face flush further in the realization of what was being asked. It was clear they both wanted one another, either in company or another way, so the rather prideful angel already had expectations on what her answer would be. Her hands shifting to bring him back up was a start, though his surprise would catch again as he'd nearly expected a kiss, only to meet Michayla in an embrace. His arms while still for a moment as his thoughts gathered soon moved, wrapping around her small frame and bringing his palms to press against the small of her back, pulling Michayla into a firm hug.

The warmth from her face buried in the crook of his neck, and the feeling of her breath sent shivers throughout his core. With his eyes closing for the first time in a long time, Dezmond would let in a deep inhale and simply enjoy this peaceful moment with her. When close like this he truly felt her; the beat of her heart, the steady flow of her breath, and the warmth she offered. Though at the feeling of her loosening the hold on him, he'd do the same and lean back to look upon her again with a pleasant yet expectant smile upon his face. After all, he was still awaiting an answer, even if he already knew it.

With a little "Mmph." coming from Dezmond as she squished his face between her hands, he'd look to her with wide eyes and a slight pout while she stared back at him. It's when she actually spoke that his lips would curve to a slight grin, the mischievousness she'd seen time to time yet again visible. Of course he didn't need an answer, he knew well how she'd respond to such a question. That doesn't change the fact that he'd wanted one from her, even if at her own expense. Yet before he could try and coax an actual yes out of her, the grasp on his face would lighten and Michaylas would begin to draw near - The surprise returning to his face, remembering quickly why he decided to not commit to a kiss earlier. Though, since then there had already been so much, so this time he'd submit to his own desires. With barely parted lips drawing together, his now half lidded gaze would hide his earlier surprise and he'd await the kiss that never came. Instead, a warm touch to each cheek, and now it was his turn to feel disappointed. Fortunately for Michayla, Dezmond was miserable at hiding his emotions, so the furrow of his brows and a slight annoyance was alight in his still warm gaze.

Though his current emotional hold would be brief, as suddenly Michayla was deciding to make an offer. He knew well enough that she'd commit to what he had planned, but with her own wishes accomplished he'd certainly have more bargaining power. Besides, he could get through a little gardening venture - If in the right company. Finally once she finished vocalizing her plans for him, Dezmond would simply give a sly smile and a quiet sigh. "As you wish." Quickly he'd concede, not worried any longer especially after she made so many offers to keep him from getting too disheveled. "I'll help out in the garden, after all, I gave the offer to be there through everything with you."

It's then that his hands would shift again, having been unconsciously resting upon her hips after having been holding her before. With his right raising, he'd extend his index finger and simply tap it lightly upon the end of her nose. "Except for a few things. For example, how about you go take a shower and get ready, and I'll get breakfast and tea squared away?" Again he'd try and coax her out of the bedroom, though this time there couldn't be any miscommunication behind his words. Along with that, he wanted to be sure this strength of hers could keep up with a hot meal and the morning cup. No more would she skip a meal with him around.

code by @Nano

 

[Aneres]

location
Kitchen

interaction
Early

mood
Enamored

Michayla Macy

Michayla chimed in with the smallest of giggles at Dezmond’s playful boop, nodding her head simply and agreeing that it was time to get the day started and underway. Pushing herself up onto her knees and extending her left leg downward, the pad of her foot finding and meeting the soft carpet, she hesitated for a bit and tilted his chin ever so slightly so his face now paralleled her’s.

“Thank you, Dezmond. For asking.” Would he notice the lilt in her voice when she spoke his name, how it flitted from her tongue and danced across her lips in a way that felt like worship? Michayla was sure he would. He noticed everything when it came to her. And she was beginning to notice the same finite details with him. It seemed as if he were slightly perturbed by her previous lip placement. She would have to remedy that. She would press her mouth lightly to his initially, inhaling deeply and pulling his warmth deep into her lungs. Before she pulled away with a grin and a wink, she’d wrap her right hand tight around the back of his neck and pull him in deeper, moving her mouth against his in a rhythmic harmony that seemed to come naturally to the pair. Michayla rose from his lap and skipped out of the bedroom, her feet carrying her near-weightless body into the bathroom and closing the door quietly behind her. Today was going to be a good day. She felt that truth resonate in her bones.

The same light energy clung close to Mickey as she progressed with her morning routine. From humming a little diddy in the shower to outright singing to herself while she stood in her towel and proceeded to style her hair. How long had it been since she had actually had the chance to feel this good? While the subtle ache of her bones would usually act as a begrudging reminder to her unfortunate circumstance, Michayla instead brushed the usually overwhelming thoughts away and instead encouraged herself to add stretching to her daily regimen and see if that didn’t help the aches. Once she was satisfied with how her chestnut waves fell and the bounce they retained, Mickey would give herself a quick nod of approval before about facing and going to exit the bathroom.

Holding her towel close to her chest and taking the turn towards the bedroom, she’d tilt her chin slightly and take a deep breath in, enjoying the smells Dezmond was producing from her kitchen. This was the second day that he would prepare her morning tea and breakfast. She wondered to herself if this would become something of a routine for them. She quietly hoped so as she proceeded to her closet, lightly tugging the door aside and reaching for her choice of attire.

After about another ten or so minutes of dressing and simply straightening a bit around the bedroom, Mickey would reach for her phone from the bedside table and then make her way into the kitchen. Stepping into the breakfast nook, Michayla would flash Dezmond a bright smile before joining him at his side, inching onto her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the cheek before reaching into the cabinets near the stove.

“I thought I’d make a pitcher of black tea for us while we were out in the garden.” While she was more than aware that Dezmond did not need food or drink, Mickey knew that the angel would appreciate the inclusion none the less. As she went about filling her pitcher and preparing the larger of her kettles to steep the darker tea, Michayla continued to find herself looking for Dezmond, to simply observe the way he moved around her home as if he had been a part of it for as long as she had. While, in reality, he had been, it still warmed her heart to see him so comfortable and simply belonging there with her. There was no doubt in Michayla’s mind as she turned her attention back to her current task, her cheeks filling with a rose-colored glow at the thought. She was falling ever so quickly into a love that she had only ever heard about from her mother and in novels and Michayla could not wait to see where their story would take them.

Thank you for asking.

coded by incandescent

 

[Early]

Dezmond

The Materialist of Heaven

Location:

Kitchen

Mood:

Entranced

tags

Aneres

While receiving the thanks, Dezmond would raise an eyebrow curiously, the reasoning behind her words not quick to set in. Though her actions soon after helped the angel realize her meaning, and when he had his stunned look softened and the intimate moment was returned. Happily so.

Breathless and left with rosy cheeks Dezmond could only watch as Michayla nearly bounced out of bed, a spring in her step carrying her off in a way he'd not seen in some time. Exasperated for a moment longer, sitting in the still warm sheets they'd come close to sharing, the angel would find himself in a moment of thoughts. With a hand grabbing at the bedding, his eyes would instead move to his favorite arm chair as he came to a realization. Though this wasn't something for him to worry about now, instead he'd smile simply to himself before getting up and making his way towards the kitchen. While passing through the threshold of the rooms, he'd reach up to adjust his tie and collar, though once in the kitchen his entire outfit had changed entirely.

Figuring he may be getting a little dirtied today, and that maybe Michayla will want to go out and be seen, Dezmond figured his usual attire may not be sufficient. In a simple beige polo that was tucked into light jeans, he almost looked like a normal person except for the intense eyes he wore that began to scan the contents of the now open fridge. After a moment, the thought came to mind that something simple and light may be best considering her health; Best to not push a good thing with too grandiose of a breakfast. After setting the cook ware and materials needed up, Dezmond would start cooking sliced peaches in a pan with a mix of other ingredients. Along with that another pan was busy searing oats, almond slivers, and some brown sugar. It's once the kitchen began to smell like baked peaches and warm honey, a truly welcoming scent, Michayla would have returned.

Standing over the stove, likely a totally new sight to behold with all things considered, he'd offer a quick smile while taking his attention from the food only to let out an "Oh." upon receiving the quick kiss to the cheek. Watching then as she flitted away, a simple nod would be exchanged from her offer before realizing that's what he forgot. "Oh! Yes, sorry I didn't even start tea. I've only began on breakfast." The disappointment in his actions were clear, but it was a reminder that even he wasn't perfect. Even though food was ready now, they'd have to wait until the kettle boiled before enjoying a cup of tea. Oddly enough, the only thing he had any interest eating or drinking.

Though watching her begin the prep work for the drinks, he'd concede the task entirely to her capable hands while getting the presentation of the meal ready. A simple glass water cup would be taken from the cabinets, only to then start scooping in a few spoonfuls of cool vanilla yogurt. After which came the softened peaches that had been simmered in honey, brown sugar, and a dash of almond extract. Spooning in some of the juices that came from cooking the combo,they'd glisten with a dark red hue before adding some of the fresh baked granola, then more yogurt. After which came another layer, followed by the completion of the peach cobbler parfait.

With a rather proud look upon his face, Dezmond would bring the breakfast over to the table, laying it and a spoon and napkin down for Michayla to begin whenever. Though on his way over is when he'd notice just how long, and how in general Michayla had been looking at him. While finishing up he'd noticed her staring now and then too, and even he could figure out why, though not exactly what she'd been thinking. Either way, it was uncommon for Dezmond to feel the sort of embarrassment he felt now while setting the table.

"Bon appétit." Dezmond would say gleefully, all the while smiling with an expectant look upon his face. At the same time moving to take a seat across from her, wanting to still participate in her breakfast tradition even if he himself wasn't going to be eating anything. "So, first things first we're going to the garden? Does that mean I get to decide our evening plans?" He asked, knowing well how much work the garden needed considering Michayla hadn't been able to tend to it as much as she would've liked; All things considered.

code by @Nano

 

[Aneres]

location
Kitchen

interaction
Early

mood
Satiated

Michayla Macy

While a rosy, luminescent glow had significantly stained Mickey’s normally pale and translucent cheeks, it was when her grey eyes had been met with the rich topaz of Dezmond’s that she felt her skin burn with a rich scarlet, embarrassment forcing her gaze down to her busy hands. He had caught her blatantly staring and Michayla quickly chastised herself. It was one thing to admire him in passing. It was another to stand there, absolutely fixated. Although, who could blame her? She was still trying to adjust to having him fill up the previously empty spaces of her life. Tack on the attractive angles of his silhouette coupled with her ever-growing affections and Mickey found it increasingly more difficult to not become affixed and lost in his movements. Regardless, she knew she needed to get a grip and rein it in. For both their sakes.

Michayla turned her back to Dezmond as she fussed over the now boiling water that sat on the stovetop, her breathing evening out as her cheeks returned to their healthy, faint rouge. As per usual ‘Mickey’ behavior, she would lose herself in her current task, using the steeping of her teabags and preparation of the pitcher as an excuse to distract and refocus her attention. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps she was being a bit much? No. Not right now, not today.

Today is going to be a good day. Get out of your head and get it together, Mickey.​

Taking in another quick breath, her hands now turning idle, she had no other choice now than to absently wipe them on the nearest dishcloth and turn her attention back on Dezmond. He had taken his place at the dining room table, his smile warm and expectant as he motioned for her to follow suit. Nodding in agreement, she would step forward to close the gap between them and take her seat, pulling her chair closer to the small table and inhaling the fragrance of the dish. The smell alone was absolutely intoxicating and Mickey could feel her mouth salivate at the anticipation. An eager grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as she picked up her spoon and dug deep along the side of the glass, determined to have every flavor marry into a single, cohesive bite. Placing the spoon flat against the width of her tongue, Mickey would slowly pull the utensil from between her lips as she savored the array of flavors. The silky sweetness of he not too soft peaches intermingling with the buttery richness of the brown sugar had sent a wave of nostalgia crashing into Mickey, as her thoughts drifted to memories of her mother’s staples, a Thanksgiving peach cobbler. That, paired with the freshness of the yogurt and the earthy crunch of the toasted almonds? It was better than Michayla could’ve ever expected. It was beyond tasty. It was absolutely divine.

While she had heard and had every intention of acknowledging Dezmond’s inquiry, the young woman could only lift a finger in response as she continued enjoying the breakfast he had meticulously prepared for her. It wasn’t only the flavors that made the parfait delicious for Michayla. It was knowing the patience, care, and thoughtfulness that went into its creation that made it delectable. At the end of the day, while the warm, caramelized peached did a world of good to warm her chest and belly, it was knowing that Dezmond had prepared it specifically for her that warmed her heart.

A few moments more passed between the pair as she went about scooping the last few bites into her mouth, Michayla exhaling a satisfied sigh as she rested the spoon in the now empty dish. So, not only had she slept through the night and had awoken with an unusual amount of energy, but she had also managed to finish her breakfast as well as be allowed to thoroughly enjoy it without usual nausea encroaching on and inevitably ruining it.

A good day, Mickey.​

“Dezmond, that was wonderful,” she praised, a hand reached across the table to give his a quick squeeze. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Standing from her seat then and motioning for him to keep his butt in his, Mickey would take her now empty dish and spoon to the sink, making quick work of washing up and placing them in the drainboard to dry as she stated simply, “Of course. That was the deal and I am a woman of my word.” Almost as if by second nature, Mickey would then proceed to prepare their morning tea, pulling two small mason jars from her cupboards instead of their usual teacups and saucers. As she went about emptying the now dark brew into the ready and waiting pitcher, discarding the tea bags, and retrieving a single lemon from the fridge, she’d proceed to expertly slice the citrus into perfect little discs, placing one in the bottom of either glass. Michayla walked the jars over to the table, placing one in front of her seat and the other parallel to Dezmond’s. Turning for and grabbing the pitcher, she’d begin to fill their glasses with the still steaming liquid as she glanced at him through her curtain of hair, her head tilting slightly in contemplation.

“Did you have anything in particular in mind?” she mused. Placing the pitcher in the center of the table and reaching over for the small sugar cube dish, Michayla would once again find her seat as she dropped two cubes into her brew. Blowing into her drink, her grey eyes would peep over the lip of the jar expectantly. While she was eager for his answer, she half expected him to not give her one directly. The thought made her grin.

Breakfast with Dezmond.

coded by incandescent

 

[Early]

Dezmond

The Materialist of Heaven

Location:

Kitchen

Mood:

Mischievous

tags

Aneres

Not getting answered immediately was fine, especially since it was proof that he'd done well on her breakfast. Though now it was his turn to stare, simply watching her with amusement rich in his vibrant gaze, half lidded eyes fixed upon her lips while peacefully enjoying the provided meal. It was only once the spoon clattered noisily inside the empty cup that he'd look back up to Michayla, greedily awaiting praise, which once given only strengthened the joyful smile he bore. "My pleasure." He'd coo, making a move to stand and take care of the dishes until stopped, and gestured to remain. And remain he would, watching from the table as Mickey went to take care of her own dishes and get the tea together for them.

Using this time to reach in his front pocket, Dezmond would take this idle time to start doing what would likely be very unexpected. He'd start scrolling through his phone, a silvery newer Andoid device with a large touchscreen which currently was being used to read something he'd finally settled on. It's only when Michayla spoke out from the kitchen, finishing up, that he'd set the device screen side down on the table. Giving a hum of acknowledgement, the angel was pleased to see their was in fact an agreement and his plans could come to fruition. It was just a matter of the logistics.

Taking the tea in one hand, Dezmond would raise it to his nose before giving a deep inhale to enjoy the rich fragrance. Thus far his favorite part of tasting something was the scent stuff gave, and if he had to be honest drinking was ideal since the concept of mushing stuff in his mouth was a little off putting still. With his other hand he'd grab four sugar cubes and plop them in one by one, and once dissolved and stirred, he'd give an eager sip. The drink was at this point maybe a tad sweeter than most would prefer, and definitely still hot for the average mouth, but Dezmond would let out a relieved sigh before lowering the jar in order to answer Michayla. "Well, if you must know I have a couple different plans I'm still trying to narrow down. Believe it or not, I've never gone on a date before." He'd say, confidently at that, while bringing his eyes to meet the date in questions gaze.

"I admit I know a few things you'd enjoy, but I've a few ideas of things you've never done but I've always expected you'd enjoy as well. At this point, I'm just gauging your energy for the day." Again Dezmond was entirely honest with her, his intentions open but his worry on her physical health still holding him back. With how well she seemed, was it worth the risk of ruining this streak of health? Or was it that since she could see him, this health was just one of the many walls he's seen her put up before. He'd seen her tell people she was fine, but also saw just how unwell she was behind closed doors. Even before her sickness, worrying others was never something the considerate and kind Michayla would do - So, just how well was she in reality?

code by @Nano

 

[Aneres]

location
Kitchen

interaction
Early

mood
Content

Michayla Macy

Michayla’s grin widened as she watched Dezmond sweeten and take the initial sip of his tea. While she had never paid it much mind when done by others, the thought of her angel enjoying things on the sweeter side seemed very true and telling of his own, individualized personality. The more time she spent with him and was able to notice the small idiosyncrasies that made Dezmond who he was, the more Michayla was allowed to appreciate and memorize them. From the way his features had taken on an air of incredulous doubt when prompted to play in a bit of dirt, to the shy and almost weary way he carried himself when Mickey had initiated intimacy. Yet, despite all of that, he rose to the occasion. He changed and was willing to dirty his soft and pretty hands, he showed courage and willingness when taught how to slow dance. Another obvious indicator of the kind of man Dezmond was; despite his hang-ups and personal uncertainties, he was willing to reach compromises if it meant being allowed to do so by her side. And now with the oddly confident affirmation that he had never been on a date, yet was already planning multiple scenarios.

Contentment. That’s what this feeling was. As Mickey absently traced the lip of her drink with the slender fingers of her right hand and perched her chin in her now propped left palm, the subtle yet adoring smile never wavered from her full lips as she listened intently to the building excitement and eagerness that Dezmond displayed. In the way he spoke, how he mentioned not once, but twice activities that he knew or had an idea that she may enjoy, Michayla knew that everything he was scheming held her at its center. Once again, another indicator that Dezmond was content with doing just about anything, perhaps even things he himself didn’t believe he’d particularly enjoy, as long as it made her happy. Her praise and company were enough for him. It made her chest swell. How would she ever show him that his company was all she needed, as well?

At this point, I’m just gauging your energy for the day. ​

And with that one little sentence, Mickey’s observations were inverted onto herself. Dezmond wore his emotions plain as day in every way possible. Between the subtle way his brows furrowed and formed a v or how concern slightly discolored his perpetually bright eyes, he usually gave Michayla clear indicators when it came to what he was feeling. Mickey, on the other hand? Not so much. Unlike her guardian angel, who more than likely never had reason to put up a facade or necessarily hide his inner feelings, it was something that Michayla had all but mastered. Truth be told, on more instances than not, Dezmond had been able to read her quite clearly and respond accordingly but she was able to read the duality in his words. He knew that Michayla preferred to suffer in silence and had informally asked if perhaps this was one of those instances. Nodding her head and acknowledging his concern, Mickey would reach for and take another sip from her tea before responding.

“Honestly, so far I’m feeling fine. Wonderful, actually. I don’t know if it was the full night’s sleep or what but today’s shaping up to be one of the best days I’ve had in a while.” Knowing that he wouldn’t be fully convinced, hell neither was she, Mickey continued. “Then again, the reason I haven’t worked the garden for so long is because of my physical limitations and we both know the surprises my body likes to spring on me.” Briefly thinking back to the night before, Michayla quickly banished the thought from her head before concluding. “It’s mid-August. The heat usually isn’t unbearable this time of year so I should be okay on that front. As far as overworking myself, I plan to take plenty of breaks in between. Besides, I have some help today so there should be no reason why I would need to exert myself.” She gave Dezmond a playful wink then, hoping to lighten and help ease his rightfully placed concern. “If I feel myself getting fatigued or if I think it’s time to call it quits, I will. I promise you, I’m just as excited about tonight as you are and I don’t want to let myself exhaust whatever energy reserve I have today and not be able to fully enjoy it with you. Especially considering the thoughtful planning you’re putting into it.”

Going to take another sip of her drink then, that’s when Mickey would tilt a chin in the direction of the smartphone sitting across the table from her, an eyebrow lifting in surprise, coupled with a smirk.

“I’m going to wager that that’s helping with said planning. I didn’t know angels needed, much less owned, smartphones.” The idea was humorous to Mickey. The thought of angels parading around heaven, phones stuck to their faces as they shepherded the mortal spirits this way and that. She laughed lightly at the thought.

coded by incandescent

 

[Early]

Dezmond

The Materialist of Heaven

Location:

Kitchen

Mood:

Content

tags

Aneres

As Michayla began to explain the mood of her day, and how things have gone thus far and that it was indeed a possibility this great could be temporary, he had to admit she was handling this newfound energy with a cautious maturity. When she'd promised to not push herself, and test such a good thing, Dezmond would raise his cup again to take another long sip of the now optimally hot tea. While there were still steps he'd like to take, the thought crossed his mind that mothering her or forcing her to take precautions may well ruin the day along with the chance to enjoy it with how well she was feeling. "Very well. As long as you promise to prioritize your health and wellness, then I will be content. Just don't push yourself, I promise that no matter how much fun we're having, if I find out you push yourself into being unwell again instead of resting when you could have I'll be rather unhappy." A stern bite clung to his words, tough a smile stayed upon his lips. It was important to know even her Guardian Angel had the ability to be angry with her, though she'd never experienced it yet personally it has indeed happened before in the past from her actions.

It's at her question about the phone that brought Dezmonds eyes from her own down to the mobile device. "Really? That's a surprise?" He'd ask with a curious yet surprised tone, reaching to lift it up again only to flick it on momentarily. Though the screen was away, she may catch a glimpse of some familiar faces on the screen; Albeit briefly, Kayla may notice the wallpaper was an image of herself and many other performers from the orchestra all standing for a bow after a performance. "I guess it may not be typical, but I own a great many things. I'm a bit of a collector on new human stuff, it's always so fascinating. Along with being neat, sometimes the tools your kind make are very useful." A small look into Dezmonds mannerisms would show, likely reminding Michayla that while he knows a great deal about her, there was still a lot she didn't know of him. For example, his age, background, or any details on his history outside of his task of watching over her and her family.

"Now. How about you show me out to work the garden?" Dezmond would finally request, moving to leave his chair while putting the phone away in his front pocket, ending his stance with arms up and back arching forward while enjoying a good long stretch. He'd expected to spend the next couple hours bent over in the dirt, after all.

code by @Nano

 

[Aneres]

Michayla

Michayla listened intently as Dezmond presented her with an ultimatum, one that stung more than she thought possible.

I’ll be rather unhappy. ​

While she took into account the hardened edge of his words, it was the words themselves that left Mickey flinching slightly, a vice grip squeezing the confines of her chest and leaving it feeling tight. In truth, she never wanted to do anything that would upset or anger Dezmond, although she was sure she had done it time and time again previously. More importantly, Michayla perilled at the idea of ever making him unhappy. She wanted him to feel content and untroubled, similar to how she felt in his company. His words had stung more than she believed he had intended, but the young woman simply nodded in agreement and made a motion to cross her heart and smile softly. His request was a simple one, one that she knew she could easily adhere to.

Now. How about you show me out to work the garden?​

An eager grin pulled at the corners of Mickey’s full lips, her cheeks dimpling with eagerness as she followed suit and stood from her seat as well. Michayla would begin straightening up after their morning tea, saving the sugar dish as well as placing the pitcher of still scolding tea to rest on a tray for later. As she meandered this way and that, pulling a small canvas bag from the closet nearest the hall and filling it with a few items (pretzels and granola bites to snack on as well as hand towels and other odds and ends), she’d speak off handly, her eyes flicking in his general direction occasionally, “A collector, huh? Does that include the newest trends in men’s fashion?” While she realized she may have sounded captious in response to his statement, quite the opposite was the case. She knew that there were people who collected clothing similar to how others acquired trinkets or tidbits. Some even saw them as investments. Seeing the pride Dezmond kept in his appearance, it wouldn’t surprise her in the least bit if such were the case. She’d have to remember that.

"And maybe even photographs?" she'd muse, nonchalant. She had noticed the photo that he used as the screen on his smartphone. Michayla recalled precisely which performance that had been. It was one of her first few as a recognized member of the string sectional, only recently being offered a fulltime position with the orchestra. It made her wonder what other photos Dezmond may have had of her, of her family, and if he had admired them often.

Finally topping her bag off with a small Bluetooth enabled speaker from the living room, Michayla quickly assessed her perusings. Satisfied with what she had packed, she shot Dezmond a brilliant smile, all teeth, before pulling the bag up and over her shoulder and walking towards the door that led to the backyard. Turning the knob and pushing it open, she’d extend it fully before stepping over the threshold, “Let’s go.”


Michayla now found herself staring into the gullet of her once clean and organized garden shed, a loud sigh of irritation pushing past her lips. The hiatus had left the once pristine and tidy space in shambles, dust now clinging to every surface imaginable, the spiders having found themselves a home in the corners of the room, along with the ceiling. And that was only the inside. The exterior of the building had been stained a deep green, the months of neglect apparent along with the clogged gutters and limbs that littered the roof. The air was stagnant and tasted old, the smell of old soil and long-dead vegetation sitting in Mickey’s nose and leaving an unbearable tang in the back of her throat. Pushing past the stench and overwhelming sense of disappointment, Mickey’s resolve remained rock solid as she explored the depths of the shed, poking and prodigy around for the tools she knew she’d need.

“I know my old smock is in here somewhere. The question being, do I have one that would fit you?” She’d pause here and there once she had found something useful, a small pile collecting on the table that sat against the left side of the shed. A hand shovel, her old gloves, two different sized watering cans. It was when she had nearly made a complete circle around the building that Mickey’s eyes lit up and her voice rose a few octaves.

“There it is!” she’d announce happily. Pulling a medium-sized cardboard box from beneath a set of iron-framed shelves, Mickey would hurriedly peel back the flaps, reveling at the contents she had discovered inside. Pulling them out one by one, she’d reveal to Dezmond different pieces of what appeared to be clothing, ranging in sizes from that of a toddler to a full-grown adult. Finding her old apron, Michayla would stand and hold the smock against her body, quickly securing it around her neck and waist. She was thankful that she had thought ahead to box them. While a little worn, they weren’t nearly as filthy as the four walls they resided in. Bending at the waist, she’d continue rummaging through the items, her eyes widening and hands trembling slightly as they pulled forth a singular, particular item. It was a deep brown apron, much older than the one she wore, that had been stained and sewn back together in more places than she could count. Rubbing the fabric between her fingertips, she smiled softly before turning to Dezmond and brandishing the item of clothing. “Remember this? It’s dad’s old apron.” Walking over to him then and holding it up against him, Mickey’s grey eyes darted this way and that over the fabric, taking in its length and width in reference to Dezmond. “Hm. It won’t be a great fit. You’re taller than dad was and not as wide in the hips but, it’ll make do.” Stepping back and appraising him, she’d give Dezmond a thumbs up in approval before stepping back around to the countertop with the tools and piling them into a little handheld tray. She could feel her nerves beginning to rattle, less from the heat and stuffiness of the space, and more so from the memories that had hit her like a ton of bricks. Mickey wasn’t surprised to find the old apron there. When the garden had been transplanted to her home, all of Michael’s supplies and tools had been packed up and shipped over along with it. It had hit her harder than she had expected it to. That being said, when she turned to face Dezmond and really took in his image, Michayla couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride. She had certainly lacked on her end when it came to maintaining and taking care of the plants and greenery that Michael had made his livelihood. While a part of her still sat in that guilt, seeing her guardian angel dressed in the same smock that her dad had worn for the many years he tended to and loved these flowers had brought on unexpected feelings of joy for Mickey.

“You look good,” she’d comment, passing the small tray over to Dezmond. Grabbing a box of seed packs as well as a smaller bag of fertilizer, she’d step past him then, back into the fresh morning air, and say simply, the smallest of smiles lifting the corners of her mouth and coloring her cheeks. “He'd be glad to see it being put to use.”


The hours in the garden passed in a blur, the line being made hazy by the laughs and memories the pair had been forming there amongst the greenery. While Dezmond was familiar with the overall premise of gardening and what it entailed (he had followed a family of flower enthusiasts, after all) it was still humorous for Mickey to sit back and watch him till in the dirt, to water the leaves, and to observe his obvious distaste when said water would leave behind small patches of muddied soil. As promised, she had taken frequent breaks in between, opting to sit in the shade and sip at one of the bottles of water she had brought out for them as well as nibble on a pretzel here and there. While she could feel herself beginning to feel fatigued, she knew it was simply from exerting more energy than she had in months, not so much from the sickness that had kept her all but bedridden. Sipping at the water bottle still held between her fingers, a certain song picked up over the speaker that had been synced to her phone, its’ lyrics ringing true for the moment and leaving Mickey’s cheeks flushed and lips turned upright.

Living for you is easy living
It's easy to live when you're in love
And I'm so in love
There is nothing in life but you​

Michayla would sink further down into her chair then, her legs crossing at the knee as she relaxed into this little piece of what felt like heaven. She remembered Dezmond’s words then, how he had said that heaven was tailored to an individual’s happiness and how, in essence, it was rather small. With the trill of the saxophone and Billie Holiday’s languid voice coupled with the image of Dezmond simply watering her hydrangeas, Mickey wondered if this is what her heaven would look like. She and Dezmond, out in the garden, enjoying each other’s company, lapping up the sunbeams and relishing in the quiet simplicity of life. The only thing that could’ve made it better would be Michael sitting across from her, enjoying this day with them.

Location: The Garden
Mood: Fulfilled
Outfit: Here
Tags: Early

code by RI.a