Bianca White
New Member
Just wanna be good to the people who raised me
Posts: 48
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Post by Bianca White on Dec 9, 2010 15:33:12 GMT -8
Bianca turned around when Michael returned, tilting her head slightly as if examining him. But she took the bag with the cinnamon bun and the payment with a small nod.
"Thank you again. And I'll have to see how it tastes for myself. I'm looking forward to trying it," she replied.
The scent of cinnamon tickled her nose and Bianca smiled.
"Cinnamon... It's one of my favorite scents."
A random bit of trivia about the spice popped up into her mind, but Bianca was able to hold herself back from spouting it out randomly. This just wasn't the time and place.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 9, 2010 15:47:43 GMT -8
Pointedly, he tried to ignore how she was looking at him...his eyes remaining fixed on little things like the wrinkles in the tablecloth (which he wanted, suddenly, to iron out). He felt her eyes upon him, it was true...but he didn't look back at her, merely sat in the quiet. Mister Stewart was watching him, too. That actually bothered him a little more then Bianca's staring.
Rattlerattlerattle. The clanking of the teaset increased in volume - he noticed this and set the teacup down, resting his hands on the table instead. He ventured a glance up when she spoke about the scent of cinnamon...the topic was light enough that he could respond. "I am fond of cinnamon, as well...in the morning, it's a pleasant thing to smell." He tried to pick up the cup again. Rattlerattlerattle. He set it back down.
Mister Stewart eyed him, frowning behind his mask.
He's getting worse.
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Bianca White
New Member
Just wanna be good to the people who raised me
Posts: 48
|
Post by Bianca White on Dec 9, 2010 17:30:27 GMT -8
A few moments of silence followed. Bianca really did not have much else to say at this point and did not feel anything she talked about would make this situation better. She stood up and gave a polite nod to Mister Stewart and Michael.
"I should be going back to work now. Again, I thank you both for letting me inside and having tea."
To Michael, she said with a gentle smile,
"I know that you don't want to hear this, but I really hope you get better. The rain really does dampen everyone's mood here huh?"
And thus, without another word, Bianca left the large and empty dining hall.
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Post by Mister Stewart on Dec 9, 2010 18:19:43 GMT -8
As she left, not a word was said - Mister Stewart offered her a faint wave, and Michael merely kept his head down, almost wincing a little at her words. He hadn't really meant to seem so resistant to her concern...he just...didn't want to draw attention. He supposed he had rather failed at that.
Rising to his feet, he moved towards the service entrance, meaning to go lock up the doors behind Bianca - Mister Stewart moved to stop him, to address him about what had just happened, but he found himself hesitating. He would just wait until Michael came back into the room, he would tell the boy to sit down, and they would finally have a talk about all of these. The elder man was worried...too worried. He wasn't sure what the younger man was thinking anymore, and...frankly, that was making him nervous.
Michael made it through the short hallway, moving up to the service doors and locking the deadbolt and electronic lock. As his hand moved upward to turn out the light, the walls buckled and shifted in his field of vision, making him sway heavily on his feet. With a thunk, he fell heavily against the wall, sliding down it with a short yelp of pain to crumple into an awkward sprawling sitting position on the floor. Despite his body's collapse, his mind was running a mile a minute - running over the list of tasks he had to get up to do - his heart pounding in his ears too loudly to hear the shout that cut through the hallway.
"MICHAEL!" In an instant, the wheelchair was at his side, gentle hands guiding him up to hold on to the handles. "Michael, you need to sleep. You can't keep doing this. You have to rest." The young man's voice was low when he responded, eyes hazy as they slowly began to move through the dining hall and towards his room.
"...But I...still have to...clear the...table...."
Mister Stewart would have none of that, voice stern and a little frightened. "Come on, Michael. You're going to rest now."
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