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Thread: A rose by any other name...[M]{DamoniquexBrokecollege}

  1. #11
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    Darien once again found himself in front of the flower shop, as he had twice before in the last week, since his first chance meeting with Delphine. Grigori accompanied him now instead of staying in the car, but always waited outside, flanking the door.

    The bodyguard had insisted on that, for Darien's protection. This street wasn't in their part of the city, and by now his visits had to have become common knowledge. While Darien could have ordered him off, he knew not to second-guess the people who kept him safe.

    Part of him wondered what kept him coming back, but as the door opened before him and the myriad floral scents and colors reached his nose and eyes, he was reminded. Be now, he was well enough used to it that it no longer overwhelmed his senses.

    He was dressed more casually than his previous visits, owing the warm weather, fitted suit discarded in favor of only a black-and-red checkered vest over a white exercise shirt that proudly displayed his toned, tanned biceps. Of course, he was still ornamented, this time with a silver pocket watch chain trailing from his breast pocket and an inscribed silver bracelet flush to the skin halfway up his right arm.

    His hair was a loose black mane rather than a careful braid, and he was actually smiling for once as he turned to regard Delphine, who was hard at work rearranging the displays. Sadly, her mood did not seem nearly as bright, as she arranged the flowers with an uncustomary urgency, lips pursed, clearly agitated.

    "Something wrong?" He asked casually when she turned to face him. By now there was little need for pleasantries. She knew him by his first name, and a little of his life from their short conversations.

    That he owned a few bars and an import-export business on the wharf, and enjoyed books, classic movies, and sailing. All truths, if not the whole truth.


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    Damonique and Natora, Joshua and Jessica, over a million words strong and the story goes on and on and on.....

  2. #12
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    Delphine furrowed her brows as she pulled the previous arrangement from its place. When the previous week's arrangement was discarded in the bucket, she grabbed the new arrangement and began to fix the window. The redhead was so focused on fixing the window arrangement--or, focused on the swirling thoughts in her mind--that she did not notice when someone entered her shop. It was not until someone spoke that Delphine finally snapped out of what she was doing.

    She looked away from the window in surprise, though she relaxed upon seeing a tall, looming figure. Darien. "Oh, hello. I didn't hear you come in," she admitted as she stepped away from the window. She wiped her hands against the dirty apron that she wore before she folded her hands together in front of her. Was something wrong? She smiled--yes. Something was wrong. She was extremely behind in all of her payments.

    The insurance company was breathing down her back, her landlord was pretty much prepared to evict her, and the funeral home was getting tired of waiting around for her payments. "No, everything is fine. I have just been working a little too hard lately." she lied. Actually, she has not been working hard enough. If she had been, then maybe all of her payments would be up to date. The redhead gestured towards the counter.

    "Are you here for another thorned rose?" she hummed. Ever since his first visit a week ago, Darien had returned to Delphine's shop for more thorned roses. Not every day, mind you, but every once in a while he would pop in, share some conversation with the redhead, and then be on his way with his rose. Though, she noticed, this was the first time Darien came to the shop in more relaxed clothing. And he was.. smiling? She bit the inside of her cheek--it looked good on him. The clothes, and that smile.

    She glanced over towards the front door of the shop, unsurprised to find Darien's friend waiting outside. He did so every time Darien came into the shop, though Delphine never understood what for. She turned her attention back to Darien, the faint smile still on her face. "I just got some fresh roses in this morning. Thorns and all." she hummed as she bent down and picked up her bucket. She then turned and walked to the counter.
    "and like all lovers and sad people, i am a poet."

  3. #13
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    As practiced as he was at it, Darien knew when someone was telling half-truths to disguise a lie. Just working a little too hard...that was all. And he believed that.

    Delphine had the possibly the best work ethic he'd ever seen, especially in one so young. She was always working, in the shop from very nearly dawn to dusk, even when it wasn't open. Always busy, either handling the flowers, making arrangements and carefully cultivating the live examples, or on the phone, likely looking for new business.

    Most girls her age would be in college, spending half their time studying and the rest out on the town, partying, dating, living. But not her. But it wasn't just the workload that was getting to her, Delphine loved the shop and her work, poured her soul into it.

    It was that wicked trap, the root of all evil, Money, that had her concerned. Darien knew, he had people to find out, that the shop was behind on it's lease, her credit card had long since reached it's limit, and the insurance had lapsed. The business was on the edge of bankruptcy and had been since her father's death.

    Darien could make all of that disappear, he knew. And surely Delphine knew as well, everything about him just exuded wealth and privilege. But still, she never asked. It was refreshing, as he was surrounded night and day by people who wanted something from him.

    That was another thing he respected about her, weather it came from wisdom or pride. Himself, Darien had learned early that nothing is truly free, that everyone who gave charity either wanted something from the one they gave to, or absolution for their own uncountable sins.

    "Of course, just the one..." He stated absently ah he watched her bend over to pick up her bucket, sun streaming off her cherry hair, mingling with the bright tracers of myriad colors that floated through the shop, and his eyes followed the dip of her narrow shoulders, down the arch of her back, to the singularly provocative view presented at such an angle, he was reminded that he could do with as much of the first as the latter. Truly, it had been far too long.

    But that would come later... He thought ruefully, and bit his lip to fight off the urges and fantasies that came unbidden to his mind, and the hungry curve had returned to that easy smile by time she turned to face him from behind the counter.

    "Perhaps you could do with a weekend off, or at least an evening. The East End theater is about to put on Hamlet, and there's a gala next weekend at the Iranian Consulate...." He continued, almost as an aside, seeming to not even notice how utterly foreign and abjdctly boring both offerings would seem to a twenty-two year old woman of the middle class.

    That was intentional, Darien hardly expected Delphine to accept, especially given her schedule. But the offering was important because it was the first time he had broached the idea of their 'relationship', whatever it was, expanding beyond these four walls and the span of fifteen minutes.


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    Damonique and Natora, Joshua and Jessica, over a million words strong and the story goes on and on and on.....

  4. #14
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    Of course, he stated, just the one. Delphine would be lying if she said that she was not curious about Darien, or about his habit of buying a single thorned rose. He had spoken a little about himself during their occasional conversations, but not enough for Delphine to truly get to know him. Though, now that she thought about it, that was probably his intention. She was, after all, only the girl who sold him the occasional rose. She was not an acquaintance, or a friend, or a lover. Just a girl.

    The redhead placed the bucket of wilting flowers down behind the counter before she scurried into the back room to retrieve what she needed. When what she needed was in her arms, she returned to the counter and began to prepare the rose. She was about halfway through the process of wrapping the rose up in tissue paper when Darien suddenly spoke, telling Delphine that she needed the weekend off. Or, even, just the evening. She almost laughed.

    Delphine did not have the luxury of weekends of days of rest. No, she spent every waking moment in this store. From dawn to dusk, every day, seven days a week. And that would not change until every debt that she and her family had was paid off. Darien, however, continued. He spoke of the theater, and of a gala, and a handful other fancy words that Delphine could barely put together. This time, she did laugh. Just a little.

    "While both of those things sound like extremely interesting events, I am afraid I'll be unable to attend either of them," Delphine informed as she grabbed a ribbon from one of the counter's drawers. She neatly tied a bow around the ribbon before she looked up at the older male and smiled. "Work is..." she sucked in a breath, "Work is never ending at Louise's Garden, and I'm afraid I'm the only one here to do it."

    "But if you end up going to either of those events, I would love to hear about it when I see you again," she added as she offered him the wrapped rose. "One thorned rose wrapped to perfection. That will be $3.50." she hummed as she moved to type the transaction into the register.
    "and like all lovers and sad people, i am a poet."

  5. #15
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    The man watched as Delphine carried out the ritual that had defined their interactions from the moment they first met, collecting a single, bright red rose, intact, thorns and all, from her freezers in the back of the shop, and set to preparing it.

    A gentle brush of her fingers flared out the petals to fit everyone's idea of how a rose was supposed to look, and then those same deft and capable digits set to work folding and creasing translucent paper aroun the flower, careful to leave no stray thorn exposed.

    Simply watching her at work was enough to bring unbidden memories to Darien's mind. Even without the flower shop to concern her, his Delilah had always treated plants with the utmost care, pruning and fertilizing, often speaking to them as if each and every one was a dear friend.

    Truly, both were artists of an unappreciated art, care and talent wasted on people that couldn't comprehend the skill and dedication that went into something so simple as getting a pristine flower from one point to another, and Darien couldn't help but relate.

    Again, Darien realized that he had been reminiscing rather than listening as Delphine's words finally reached his ears, expressing her regrets in regard to his facetious offer, punctuated by a trilling laugh that cut the tension despite it's insincerity. He laughed with her, though the amusement of it never made it to his stormcloud eyes.

    "Fair enough, Ms. Oneill, I know as well as anyone that business comes first. Take care, and thank you for the Rose, as exquisite as always." He answered, suddenly more formal than he had been just moments before as he retrieved his wallet.

    Delphine's refusal of his offer had been as much planned as expected, but Darien couldn't help the twinge of disappointment it invoked.


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    Damonique and Natora, Joshua and Jessica, over a million words strong and the story goes on and on and on.....

  6. #16
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    While Darien appeared to be a little disappointed with Delphine's decision, he did not voice this disappointment. Admittedly, she was a little disappointed as well. It had been years since Delphine had been on anything relatively close to a date, and the moment someone offers to take her out for an evening she declines it in favor of work. But, that was life. Maybe, in the future when things were more stable, she would be able to accept an offer like that.

    Darien agreed with Delphine that business comes first before he changed the conversation to the flower that she had carefully wrapped for him. "I'm glad that you like it." Delphine hummed as the older male retrieved his wallet from one of his pockets. She waited patiently for him to hand her his payment--which was, of course, another large bill--and when he did, she turned and typed it into the register.

    She wondered why Darien always paid her in large bills, and why he always insisted that she keep whatever change was left. Maybe it was because he couldn't be bothered to handle all of the change, or because leaving behind a large bill really had no impact on his wallet. Well, she mused, it had to be one or the other. "And your change today will be $46.50." the redhead informed as the register popped open. She set the fifty dollar bill beneath the register and retrieved two twenties--her only twenties, actually.

    She grabbed the six dollars and fifty cents before offering it to Darien, along with his paper receipt. "You have a good rest of your day, Darien." she smiled.
    "and like all lovers and sad people, i am a poet."

  7. #17
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    Darien handed over the fifty-dollar bill easily, one of several he now carried nearly exclusively for her. In his line of work, he had little need for cash, or at least such small amounts as could fit in a regular wallet. Briefcases and duffel bags were occasionally necessary, though.

    He had settled on the fifty as the best amount to give in trade for his rose. Enough to allude to his wealth without flaunting it or making the flower girl uncomfortable. Delphine was quite humble, money troubles or no. On his second visit he had offered a hundred and she had flushed with embarrassment quite adorably, cheeks almost reaching the color of her hair as she stammered out her thanks, while on his last visit he only had a twenty on hand. While it didn't show on her face, many years of experience reading body language told him Delphine seemed mildly disappointed...or simply desperate.

    But then, like now, she still carefully counted out his change and offered it back freely, patiently waiting for him to push it back across the counter, gently brushing her hand with his own as he did, each and every time, and picked up his flower. This was another part of their little routine.

    "Enjoy the rest of your day as well, Delphine. With or without me, I still say you should step out of the shop for a bit when you find the time..." He started in answer to her parting words, and threw open the door, and stood for a few moments in the doorway to allow the warm breeze, crisp salt air off the bay, and birdsong from outside to rush past him into the shop.

    "...after all, too many lives are wasted on not living." He finished, half-turning to offer her a last glimpse of that rare smile. In that moment, Darien looked nearly a god, his oiled black mane flaring out in the wind, amber-toned skin turned to gold on the sunlight.

    And with that simple but truthful piece of advice, he was gone and the door fell shut behind him, headed for the car. Grigori was quick the catch up, easily reaching his bosses door first to open it before and shut it behind him, only then returning to the driver's seat.

    "You seem happy. Should I be concerned?" The huge man asked in his usual deadpan, and Darien only beamed wider at that, the smile now more unhinged than mirthful.

    "Maybe. Just drive, Grigori. You know the place." He answered, and the bald German just sighed and put the Mercades into gear.
    Last edited by Damonique; 04-06-2019 at 09:31 PM.


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  8. #18
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    -approximately a few weeks later

    Like every day for the last four and a half years, Delphine woke early that morning to tend to her mother. She gave the woman a bath, made her some breakfast, and then seated her in her favorite armchair. She gave her a few books and things to keep her busy before promising to return during her lunch break. And then, she was off and heading to the shop. It was only when she reached the shop that her normal routine stopped.

    Her shop, her beautiful little shop, had been broken into. The front window of the shop was shattered, with the flowers that had been on display now tossed to the ground and stomped on. But that was not the worst of it, Delphine could tell. She unlocked the shop's door and stepped inside, careful to avoid the clutter of glass on the ground. She looked around the shop, her frown only deepening at the sight.

    Whatever flowers and plants that she had put out the night before were gone now, either that or the thieves that had broken into the shop had thrown them to the ground or at the walls. When she reached the counter, she found the register had been popped open and her money stolen. When she glanced into the backroom, she found even more of a mess waiting for her. She sighed, her bag dropping to the ground behind the counter.

    They couldn't just take her money and leave, could they? They had to destroy everything that she had built up. She turned away from the backroom to look at the mess before her; suddenly, she let out a cry of frustration. What was she supposed to do now?! She couldn't replace everything they had broken because, as much as she wanted to do that, she couldn't afford it! For God's sake, she still owed the vendors for the last batch of flowers they sent her, how was she supposed to ask for a replacement?

    The young redhead grabbed a broom and dragged it to the shattered glass on the ground. Was this it, then? Was it time for Delphine to give up, to declare bankruptcy and sell the shop? She released a shaky breath of air at the thought. But this shop meant the world to her, to her family. She had spent so much of her life in this shop and surrounded by these flowers. To sell it would be... devastating. Delphine wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffled. But, what else could she do?
    "and like all lovers and sad people, i am a poet."

  9. #19
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    Darien sat alone under a willow tree that crowned a gentle slope in a new part of an old graveyard. The air smelled of freshly cut grass, and wherever he turned, he was greeted by yet another silent row of headstones. They neither perturbed nor interested him, he had eyes only for the low, unassuming marble slab beside him.

    His man Grigori was nearby, of course, his tacit protector never far away, but had used his uncanny ability to hide in plain sight to give Darien at least the illusion of privacy and keep away passers-by with hard-eyed glares. That was good, because anyone who saw him now would think he had either gone mad or was simply pathetic. Either way, they wouldn't be wrong. He was talking to a grave.

    That in itself wasn't unusual, the bereft were always seeking solace from the departed, pouring their hearts out to a loved one that could neither hear nor judge them...but this was different. Darien spoke, and paused, as if awaiting any answer besides the rustling of leaves above his head, and then spoke again, carrying on a conversation with a person who simply wasn't there.

    "I visited Louise's Garden again, saw Delphine...and got this for you..." He stated softly, and leaned over to place the fresh rose beside the three wilting ones already laying before the stone.

    Silence

    "I know, the flowers are just an excuse to go see her, now. You don't need them, you already have a garden full to bursting, where you are...but I can't help myself. She's...sweet, determined, honest...like you were. It must have been Ms. Louise's influence, you always said she saved you..." He continued, rambling some, and a flash of guilt swept across his features as he realized what he was rambling about.

    Silence

    "I know, red hair, green eyes, same passion, same job at the same place...but it's more than just the surface details. You always told me to believe in fate. And I went looking for you, or whatever was left of you, and found her instead. That place of all places, on that day, of all days. It has to mean something." The man continued, speaking quickly, frantically, trying to get the words out as quickly as the manic thoughts came. His expression was almost pleading, tears creasing the corners of his grey-blue eyes. And the he waited, for a long time, expression changing too quick to read at whatever he was hearing.

    Silence

    "I know, it should be you. It was always supposed to be you....but I made mistakes, and now your there but I'm still here. I'm know I always said I'd follow you anywhere, but I just couldn't do it...and if I can't die, I need to live. And now fate's given me a second chance to...given me Delphine. I know what I have to do, now...I won't make the same mistakes twice." Darien answered, eyes darkening and his voice growing firm with resolve. He cocked his head, listening, tears flowing freely as he did.

    Silence

    "Thank you...." He whispered, standing slowly wiping away a tear, and cracking a thin smile at whatever it was he heard next. "Of course I'll be back. I won't...I can't forget you, Delilah." He said in parting, and headed back down the hill to where Grigori waited, ramrod-straight, saying nothing and wearing a carefully neutral expression. It wasn't his place to ask, or judge.

    --------Weeks Later

    It was a day like any other, Darien thought as he lounged in the back of the Mercedes as it followed the now-familiar route. In fact, it was shaping up to be a good day, as it usually was when he found opportunity to visit Delphine. Not always, of course. Sometimes his visits were short and tense, others long but nearly wordless as he simply stood for a while, watching her go about her business, and still others were shadowed by a palpable sadness in him that not even the redheads radiant personality could penetrate.

    But he always got his rose and left his change, and Delphine seemed unperturbed by the arrangement. In fact, he found that very little seemed to even phase her. The little inconsistencies about him from day to day that most would find either suspicious or at least, pique curiosity she seemed to dismiss as Darien simply being himself. That too fueled the growing infatuation with the girl he secretly harbored, if only all his interactions could be so straightforward and without pretense.

    Grigori was even whistling a tune as he drove, his smile showing a half-dozen steel replacements for missing teeth. These leisurely drives to the flower-shop and the graveyard, while somewhat unsettling owing to the latter, was some of the easiest money the man had ever made, a welcome respite from the stresses and dangers that defined their usual day-to-day. And the breaks seemed good for the boss, as well, seeming to lighten his mood and ameliorate some of his more distressing eccentricities, allowing the whole outfit to breathe a bit easier. The calm was palpable...but as is always said, the calm comes before the storm.

    The storm arrived the moment they turned onto the run-down street along which Louise's Garden was nestled. While it took Darien a moment longer to process, Grigori knew something was off and stopped whistling immediately, slowing the car and alternating hands on the wheel to ensure that both of the handguns under his jacket were locked and loaded, safeties off, and loose in their holsters. They always were, but he checked anyway. The first peculiarity was that people were milling about in the usually-empty street, looking at something. A few were shaking their heads, while one was taking a picture with their phone. None seemed too concerned, but that meant little. In this part of town, bad things happened every day and they were just glad it wasn't them this time.

    As the storefront finally came into view, Darien's initial fears were confirmed. The usually vibrant front windows were a ruin of shattered glass and twisted, broken pottery. Each time the wind picked up, it took dozens of multicolored petals with it. Grigory looked back to raise an eyebrow at Darien, who didn't respond for a moment, simply opening and closing his mouth in disbelief, mouthing a single word. No.

    "Do we stay or go, boss? Could be a trap just for you, word gets around. And either way, the cops'll come sniffing around soon enough." The big man inquired as the Mercades rolled to a stop, but knew the answer from the way Darien's features shifted before his eyes, eyes darkening, mouth becoming a grim line that could mean nearly anything. Anything but good,that is. With a sigh, the bodyguard reached for his door, but Darien was faster, bolting out the door and ignoring the onlookers as he ran for the ruined storefront.

    No. Not this, not now, not again. Nononononono... Was the stream of his consciousness as he reached the broken door and forced his way in. There was a blossom of pain on his arm where a piece of glass nicked him, slicing easily through both his fine silk shirt and the skin beneath, his racing heart immediately staining the dark fabric with darker blood, but he paid no mind to any of it as he stepped forward into the ruined store, eyes roving wildly, fearing he would find the worst. Instead, he just found Delphine, deep green eyes red from crying and wide with confusion, but safe and sound, clutching onto a small broom as if there was anything that could be done with it to salvage the utter destruction that was the interior.


    Spoiler: Favorite Quotes(Changed Monthly) 



    Damonique and Natora, Joshua and Jessica, over a million words strong and the story goes on and on and on.....

  10. #20
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    Delphine shakily swept up the mess of glass and flowers on the ground all the while her mind desperately searched for a solution. But no thought that she could produce solved her problems. She was ruined, and that was that. She paused mid-sweep to close her eyes and rub her forehead--how was she going to tell her mother about this? She couldn't even tell her about all of the payments that they were behind on, how was she going to tell the woman that their shop was ruined?

    Suddenly, a jingle interrupted Delphine's thoughts. She opened her eyes and turned towards the door, expecting to see a fellow shop owner or, even, a cop. But, instead, she saw Darien. And he, rather surprisingly, looked just as jilted as she did. "Oh. Mr. Darien." Delphine set aside the broom and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. "You've uhm.. you've caught me at a bad time, I'm afraid," she admitted with a shaky laugh.

    The worst time, actually. She scratched the back of her neck as she looked around at her ruined store. Then, she looked at Darien. "I'm sorry, but... I won't be able to provide you with a rose today. All my flowers have been... well..." she trailed off, her puffy eyes trailing down Darien's form until they landed on his arm. The arm of his silk shirt was torn, and though the fabric itself was a dark color, it was particularly dark in one place.

    She frowned. "Your arm," she stated softly. He must have hurt it somehow when coming into the store--no doubt because of the broken glass that was everywhere. She held out her hand, gesturing for the older man to stay standing where he was. "Hold on, I should have a first aid kit somewhere around here." That is, if those blasted thieves didn't steal it first. Delphine turned and tip-toed away from the mess she was cleaning up before she disappeared into the even messier backroom.

    When she emerged, she carried a red box in her arms. She tip-toed back over to Darien. "I'm surprised," she admitted as she opened the box. "You don't seem like the kind of person who would let himself get hurt so easily." she grabbed from the box a disinfectant wipe and a bandage before she placed it down by her feet. Then, she gestured for the older male to roll up his shirt. She would have done it herself, of course, but she figured that was pushing it.
    "and like all lovers and sad people, i am a poet."

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