A Solemn Choice (Dezmond)

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Watching closely as the slow dripping strands of cool honey began coating the bottoms of the fanciful tea cups Michayla owned, something most women her age certainly didn't entertain. Of course, she was far from the average; Few to none took up gardening by this point of their life. Her love in the more homely parts of life was definitely refreshing for Dezmond, the simplicity of enjoying the world and what it offered over the night life most entertained. Simply keeping his smile on place while she began to speak, it's with her now busy at work getting the tea ready that he himself would lean back against the counter beside the sink, his hands lifting to hold the counters edge as he took a casual stance for once.

"I guess anything really is possible-"

So right you are, Michayla. It wasn't too late, especially since she'd yet to give up hope. Even after the years of sickness she still willed herself out of bed and tried to maintain the normal routine. Even Dezmond found himself inspired by her tenacity, knowing well fate hadn't given her a fair hand but she still chose to play it regardless.

"What do we do, indeed." He quietly mused with her, his smile remaining but his expression rather inquisitive as he'd thought. Thoughts that soon projected for her to stay in the loop and give her own opinion. "Well, until you pass I have no means of returning to Heaven. I am, however, in no rush to go home." A truth, as his time on Earth was always cherished. It'd likely be a century before he'd returned back to work, and the garden of man was just so interesting to him. Not that paradise was bad, it was just too perfect. Humans always offered fresh and exciting new scenarios, their lives never dull for a quiet eternal observer like Dezmond. Not that he was all that old to begin with.

"Hmmm. Well-" His fingers started to tap lightly against the counter as he leaned back against it, his many rings clicking against the treated wood as he'd continued the thoughtless motions. "I'm forbidden from interacting with you, but I haven't much a choice anymore." Dezmond continued, his voice clearly insinuating a plan had come to mind, though for some reason his eye contact would break and he'd look to the kettle as steam began to plume from its spout. "It's possible, I suppose, that I can help you. Though, the choice must be yours and yours alone. I feel I know the answer already, considering how long I've known you, but I still have to ask."

His fingers would still, and the kettle now began to hiss out its whistle, a noise that was steadily growing louder. It's by now his unwavering golden gaze shifted back to hers, and it was clear he'd moved to a serious note. "Michayla, would you want to endure the struggle before you towards possibly getting better, with no knowledge on how long it may take, or would you like to leave for paradise." The gig was up, after all. She could see him, she'd learned of the cosmic truth and what awaited her in the end, so there was no point in making her wait. He could offer he a mercy from the life of pain she was going through now, or, a sliver of hope that she may get better and get back to enjoying life as she was before.

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