Adieu

Once Again, With Feeling (Dezmond)

She was up again.

An all too familiar ritual by this point, one which involved waiting for Michayla to find the strength to stand so she could do the inevitable. Dezmond, whom had been sitting in an armchair in her room quietly reading while she slept let out a defeated sigh; Not one of frustration but one of sympathetic annoyance.

"Sorry, Mickey. Looks like we have to do this yet again." Words said, but not heard.

Often times he spoke to her, almost as though she were capable of hearing him. Especially as of late, though there was little to say and from what he gathered she wasn't in the mood as of late for company anyway. Closing the novel he'd been reading, one which simply poofed into glittering light that was invisible to the eyes of all, he'd then get ready for the inevitable. It's only as his obligation moved to stand that he too would do the same, walking over to the end of the bed silently as to move to her side as she stumbled her way to the bathroom.

Though his presence couldn't be felt, seen, or heard, he still could minutely influence Michayla and her world. As she fumbled for the light switch, he'd reach out and lightly adjust her hand to push up so that the room could illuminate and she could make her way without trouble. Too often has he seen her make a mess, and now in the dead of night was no time to be this ill and also have to clean a bathroom. It's as she began to heave and retch that Dezmond would start to coo quiet and unheard murmurerers, things along the lines of "It'll pass." While comforting her he too knelt down, and while his presence wasn't felt he'd lightly place a hand on her upper back only to start rubbing lightly. Only once it was clear she was done, and she moved to stand again, would he move and lean against the far wall across the vanity.

"One way or another, I do hope this ends soon for you." He'd mutter the undoubtedly grim words, watching her with his solemn golden gaze as she was getting the water running, knowing well she would take care of her own hygiene before she retreated back to her bed. For some time now it had become rather hard for him to see her like this, and to see her suffer. Many would say it wasn't fair, and that she didn't deserve such a fate, and it was certainly true that Angels could feel the same when it came to their obligations.

Though he wouldn't stick around to watch her brush her teeth, instead slipping from the bathroom and back towards her sleeping area, unbeknownst to him that she'd catch an image of him leaving from the mirror, her first sighting of his presence. Her paranoid whispers barely heard as he was in the other room now, filling his time by doing some minor quality of life things while she was busy self assuring herself that she saw nothing while brushing her teeth.

All the while doing the normal tasks such as reaching down to take her pillow, fluffing it as to at least bring some slight comfort when she returns back to bed. Along with that, he'd fill a glass she'd left on her nightstand halfway with fresh water, giving the illusion that many have where they couldn't possibly remember finishing it or not. At least should she need a sip, it would seem she'd still had something left. Minor and unnoticeable tasks such as these have been a part of his day to day for some time now; Unable to help her directly but at least doing small tasks that would certainly not disturb her or her own sanity.

It's only after he was finished with these mundane tasks that he'd return back to the armchair he was in before, likely right around the time Mickey was leaving the bathroom after freshening up a bit. Of course, as he summoned his novel again to start reading it would be unknown to him that he wasn't as invisible as he thought himself to be. A certain surprise for both to come, as the sharp dressed angel was totally unaware of the events to come.