Leave out all the rest, Allistair/Delilah

[Allistair Taliesin]

Allistair's body tingled with rage, and he was feeling extremely not-human. Anger was boiling in his veins, and when she reached to stop him leave, it took all his self control not to lash out and shove her back. He wanted more than anything to tell her to shove it, to tell her she was the most useless conduit he'd ever had the bad grace to meet, and he wanted to leave. And then he wanted to get on a plane and go to his father, and never come back. Hell on the comittee and their rules, hell on it all. He forced himself to take a breath, and told her his address through gritted teeth.

It would take him a long while to calm down from this, he knew. The fuse to his temper was long, and burned slowly, but once it reached its end, it was a blaze that was difficult to quell. He stood facing away from the girl, trying to calm himself and succeeding only minutely. He was going to be moody and surly all night, he knew it. He figured it was best to keep his mouth shut, or his not so human side would likely lose it completely. Characteristically, he felt his anger drop only a notch, but it was enough. He could forgive her, and he would. He was Zadkiel, he was the embodiment of mercy, of forigveness. Forgiveness was his heart. He turned, and looked her in the eye, with his own still-dark eyes.
"Tonight, you will be wary with that tongue of yours. I shall forgive you, but I am in no mood to put up with your childish moodswings and equally childish goading." He said, his tone miles softer than it had been moments ago. He stood there for a moment to let his words sink into the girl's thick skull, still deciding if he would stay after all. He would really rather not, but he supposed he didn't have a choice. Especially when the comittee got involved. He sighed inwardly, wishing that they didn't have to be involved. He didn't want any hullabaloo around his father, he didn't want the comittee going nuts, jumping to conclusions and so on.
After a moment or two more, he left the spot he'd been standing went to find himself a seat without bothering to ask. He was feeling extremely drained, and his human body was exhausted. Emotionally, physically, he was just completely frayed.

[Delilah Krelborn]

And then, the smiled faded because she realized it was there. it was hard for the insane to be self-aware and her moment had passed in a wave of bliss. It lasted long enough for a tinge of it to come into her voice as she told the Committee line the address, thinking that this was what Conduits did. It was not sit around and look at the old language. . . It was much more interesting.

But there is was again. It wasn't her fault. Absolutely his own entirely. He must have known she was loving this absolutely considering he seemed to know so much already. . Oh, such odd vocabulary choice. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. She listened and listening and did not say a word until he had moved and she was out of his gravity. Delilah moved a bit, putting the trash away and closing the fridge door all the way before joining him, deliberately avoiding getting too close.

She looked up towards the now-closed hallway door. "We have a guest room when you want it," she told him quietly. "The first door in the hallway," she added, though she wanted to have to show it to him later. "If you come across my mother, avoid her." The other part went without saying. The part where she asked what she asked all her guests. . . There was a time when Della had nearly gone to the point of making any guests sign a form stating they would not inform anyone outside the household that Mariella Sinclair was a drunk and most probably an idiot.

Now was the time when she needed him to go to bed. Do something other than sit there and look like some wretch stretched upon horrid furniture. Horrid, tasteful furniture. It was a crime to look that way on ten thousand dollar seats.

"The bathroom is next to the guest bedroom. In the morning, we will check on the situation at your apartment complex and try to make other living arrangements if necessary." Forms and procedures she had studied for years were coming from her mouth in waves. Technicalities. Conduit things. Actual conduit things. It was justified and purposeful and odd.

[Allistair Taliesin]

Allistair had wandered off to what looked like a living room, and plunked himself down on the couch. He sat slouched over, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting in his hands. He looked up when Delilah came in, and started talking about where he would sleep and where the bathroom would be. She told him what they would do in the morning, and he cut her off.
"I am perfectly capable of finding myself somewhere to stay after tonight, I thank you." he said quietly, trying not to get worked up again. He almost regretted coming here. He wished he'd just gotten on a plane and not wasted his time. Now, of course, he would be trapped by the 'technicalities.'
He wouldn't be able to so much as scratch his balls without the committee hearing about it, and it wasn't a situation he liked to be in. He didn't want this obnoxious human scrambling over herself to 'help' him, or whatever it was she thought she was doing. He didn't want to tell a committee member what his last conversation with his father had consisted of, he didn't want to be interrogated. He didn't want to stay over here, he didn't want to sleep in a bed here. He wasn't exactly sure what he did want to be doing, but he definitely knew what he didn't want.

He sighed, shifting a little bit.
"I'm not ready to sleep yet," he informed the girl, his age really showing in his face. Not the age of the body he had been born into this cycle, but the age that came with immortality. He felt like an old, old man. He was exhausted, but he knew if he tried to sleep he would only lay awake and fume and overthink and stress himself out further. It would be better if he could focus on something other than his present perdicament. He looked up, watching Delilah stand there quietly, looking at him like he didn't deserve to be on her expensive couch.