Pain and Pictures

Chapter 18- Tell

The article was coming along, with the information I had so far, which wasn't much.

Dinner came and went, but Violet didn't leave her room. I was really worried about her. Even more than I wanted to write the article.

Which was insane!

If I ever wanted to get back to my life, I had to get her to do the interview. It'd be nice if she'd just talk to me, without me having to manipulate the conversation. Which was pretty shitty of me, but it had gotten her talking.

There was a soft knock on my door.

I knew who it was. If it had been Lance, he'd just barge in. Victor was gone. So it had to be Violet.

I smiled and made my way to the door.

"Yes?"

"Hello. Ermmm... would you make me french toast again? I believe I slept through supper."

She was fidgeting her hands, and was looking everywhere but at me. Did I really make her that nervous?

"I could. But you'll have to do something for me."

Her head shot up and panic was written all over her face.

"No! Not that. Shit, I'm sorry. That came out so wrong."

She visibly relaxed and motioned for me to continue.

"What I meant was... I'd like to talk more. I'm kind of in awe of you. Obviously you're talented, you wouldn't be famous otherwise, but you're also a really good story teller. I could listen to you all day."

I know I'd just said it was shitty of me to manipulate her into talking, but apparently I'm a dick. It seemed like the only option.

"I guess I could do that. After all, I get french toast, in the end."

"Exactly."

We went to the kitchen and I got out all the ingredients. It looked like someone (probably Lance) had gone to the store. There was plenty of everything, had she told him to get more of what I would need? It looked like it.

"So, what can I entertain you with?"

It was my turn to look at her, wide-eyed. She had said that so seductively, I'm sure I heard it.

When she saw the look on my face, she must have realized what I thought.

"No. You know what I mean!"

I just laughed and went back to breaking the eggs.

"Tell me about... ummm... what's your favorite film? And before you ask, both. I want to know which was your favorite to be in and your favorite of all time."

"Well, of the ones I was in, I'd have to say 'Foster Family'. It really did encompass every emotion. Plus, it had a wonderful cast. I loved working with them. As far as the other favorite, well, you have to promise not laugh!"

Laugh? She was embarrassed!

"I promise to try my best."

"No. I'm not saying a word otherwise."

"Fine. No laughing."

"Harry Potter."

Oh my god! Why the hell did I make that promise?!

I had to bite my lip, even then I felt my face turning blue. I had to cover my mouth to stifle a laugh.

"That is so amazingly British! So, which one? Let me guess, the one with the big quidditch match?"

"Goblet? Really? No. Well, in a way, I guess. To me, they're all one. It would be like choosing a favorite episode of a show on telly, it's the show as a whole that makes it good. I'm actually the same way with Star Wars."

"Wait, even the prequels?!"

"Yes? I know, I know. Most people hated them, but for me it only added depth to the overall story. I'm loving the new ones, though."

Damn. I was getting hard. I loved Star Wars! I'd never thought of myself as a geek, but I totally geeked out over it.

"I get that. But you have to admit, the acting in the prequels was really bad."

"Not all of it. But yes, some of it was awful. Okay, a lot of it."

I looked over at her and we both burst out laughing. It felt so good. Not just the hanging out, but the easy conversation. But I knew it couldn't last. I had to get her talking. The first step of 'getting her comfortable' was done. Now the next.

"Are you working on anything right now? A movie, I mean."

Her face fell. Her entire demeanor changed and I started to worry that she'd shut down.

"You know what? Ignore that one. How about...... ummm...... Do you want kids?"

She looked at me like I'd just asked her if she'd been the second gunman when Kennedy was shot.

"Why would you ask that?!"

"I don't know, making conversation? I wasn't asking you to have my children. Just if you wanted any, someday."

I placed her plate down in front of her and dished up my own. I was pretty sure our talk was at an end.

"I can't have children."