Angel of Arkham: The Angel Appears

Questions?

6 months ago...

Paris sat in her office after coming back from speaking with Jerome, she glanced at her notes and tried to assess the ginger's emotional state, pen tapping against her cheek as she spun around in her chair. Ten minutes until the work day was over for her, she checked her phone for any messages, wondering what Jerome had in mind for dinner, was it a date or not?

It took her a minute to realize that her phone was ringing. In her hand. She jerked in sudden alarm, almost dropping the phone, and answered it, "Hello?" her voice as smooth as neatly ironed laundry, the chuckle on the other side of the call was familiar and easy to identify.

"Heya, sweets," Jerome chimed, "It's Jerome."

"I figured," Paris smiled warmly, "What's up?"

"You still up for dinner tonight? I know a place that has good spaghetti." Paris confirmed that she was still wanting to go out to dinner with the ginger, she gave him the address of her workplace and he gave her an estimate on when he'd be there to pick her up.

"See you in ten." Jerome chirped happily, "Bye." and with that he hung up. Paris sighed as she looked in the small mirror hanging from her wall, her makeup was faded and in need of a tune-up. She rummaged through her makeup bag and pulled out the cosmetics she needed: bold red lipstick, smooth black eyeliner, and a lavender eyeshadow. She straightened her jet black hair until it was neatly resting upon her shoulders. While she did this, the nagging feeling of uncertainty chilled her. Her text tone went off, a text from Jerome:

"I'm outside." -Jerome.

She glanced outside and saw the ginger leaning against his light blue chevy impala, she didn't want to keep him waiting but the uncertain feeling kept on bothering her. Before she left the office she snagged her switchblade out a desk drawer, concealing it in her purse, and made her way out, locking the door to her office behind her. Once she was out of the building the frigid winter air nipped at the skin of her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink, "You look gorgeous," the ginger beamed sweetly, "Almost like an angel. Except, you don't have wings."

"Oh hush," Paris teasingly punched his shoulder, "Or I might change my mind." Jerome raised his hands in defeat, a soft chuckle leaving his chest, before he opened the passenger door for the girl.

"What a gentleman," Paris jested, "Thanks." Jerome nodded politely before closing the door and making his way to the driver's side. Paris buckled her seatbelt as Jerome placed the destination into the GPS, 'Moonlight Cuisine.' Once he made sure she was all settled in, Jerome buckled up and started the car, he flipped on the radio.

"What kind of music do you like?" he asked as he flipped through the stations.

"Rock mostly," Paris replied, "You got any Green Day albums?"

"Hell yeah!"

"The recent one? American Idiot?" to answer her question, Jerome fished out the CD and plopped it into the CD player. "Hell yeah!" the two of them began humming along to the angry guitar as well as Billie Joe Armstrong's lyrics.

When they reached the restaurant and Jerome stopped the car, Paris started to be less cautious around the boy. Jerome seemed friendly enough, granted she still kept her guard up, he opened the door for her and she smiled. The two of them headed inside, "I got us reservations," Jerome noted proudly, "Right after you said 'yes' to dinner." Paris was touched by this action, yet it also worried her.