Elaine was almost holding her breath as Descole slowly removed his mask. It was nearly unbearably slow, but Elaine didn't give even a sign that she wanted him to hurry up in case he changed his mind. He was possibly going this slowly to give himself time to change his mind if he wanted to. His hold on the mask seemed to tighten a little. It was still in front of his face, but he lowered his hand, still giving himself time to change his mind.
But she did see his face, and Elaine's breath got caught in her throat. She recognised his face. She couldn't believe she hadn't realised it, even when acknowledging to herself that his picture in that article she read back at the museum had something about it that seemed very familiar.
Red eyes. Perfectly tidy brown hair with curled ends hidden by his hat. An undeniably handsome face. All that was missing were the red rimmed glasses.
"Pr… Professeur Sycamore?" Elaine sounded as though she was light headed, which she may have been. It was hard to just accept this revelation right away. To think Professor Sycamore was Descole… Granted she never knew Sycamore… well, Elaine did she supposed. Just, not in the conventional exactly. Either way, it was a bit thick to swallow.
Descole… Well, Professor Sycamore gave a tiny smirk. Though compared to Descole's, there seemed to much more amusement in it than usual.
"I didn't think you would be a fan of my work. Then again, I did spot a few of my articles in your office," he said in a slightly teasing voice. A bit odd since even when he teased as Descole, you never really heard more than a hint of it in his voice, which also sounded a bit lighter now to how he normal spoke.
"And I wouldn't 'ave suspected you of being a psychopath from looking at your picture," Elaine countered. After a moment or two of observing his face, Elaine said, "no glasses?"
"Contacts," Desmond replied with a small shrug. "I can't say I'm too fond of them, but I'm short-sighted and glasses would just make wearing a mask difficult."
"And I suppose it would look odd to see you wearing them over the mask," Elaine remarked as she tried to actually picture it, though it was difficult.
"I suppose it would," agreed Desmond as he took off his hat. "It would certainly make my image less intimidating." He looked at Elaine asking, "So, am I what you imagined me to look like?"
"… I thought you'd 'ave blue eyes, or at least grey," Elaine responded, in a false disappointed tone. Desmond gave a little pout.
"Well I apologise for having disappointed you, dear."
"As you should," Elaine told him with a nod and the tiniest of smiles. "So, what am I supposed to call you now? Is it still Descole, or…?"
"I think you'll be able to figure out when the appropriate time to refer to me by Descole. I suppose though, given our relationship, you can call me Desmond," he answered with a small smile. Elaine thought this over before giving a slight smirk.
"Alright. Either way, I'll still be able to call you Dessy." Desmond frowned at that.
"Must you? If you continue to do so, I must continue calling you puppy."
"You would 'ave done that anyway," Elaine commented with an uncaring shrug. "Calling you Dessy is the only form of retaliation I 'ave to that."
"I suppose it's a fair deal then," replied Desmond as he moved his mask about in his hand. Elaine thought up her next question.
"Is there any difference between "So, is there much difference between Jean Descole and Professeur Desmond Sycamore?" Desmond looked thoughtful, and maybe a little bit unsure of the answer himself.
"… I suppose, there would be similarities between the two. But there are differences. Descole's much more self-assured then Desmond. Not as hopeful or naïve. More willing to use 'certain' methods to get certain jobs done. But then again, you already about me as Descole."
"I also know you're arrogant, with such a big ego that to bring it into existence would weigh the earth down until it either 'it into another planet or meteor or even a star close enough size to the sun. Not to mention you're quick to anger, and manipulative-."
"Yes, I think I understand," Desmond grumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "But continuing on, I would say, as Desmond Sycamore, I'm more…" He searched his mind for the right word. "… Relaxed, a bit more calm though I suppose I would still be capable of anger. It's the same no matter what name or persona I use really. I suppose I could be considered friendly enough and maybe a little charismatic." Desmond gave a little smug smirk. "I also consider myself brilliant at jokes."
"Really now? Let's 'ear one then," Elaine said as she tried to sit up a little straighter without moving her ankle too much. Desmond's face lit up a bit, as though excited to share some of his wit.
"Alright, here's one I thought of a few days ago." He cleared his throat before beginning. "Now, after completing his A-levels, a student gets accepted by his first choice of college to become a medical student. After some years of study, he decides on a main study of focus. So he goes to his lecturer to talk about it.
"They talk about some medical fields of study, and the student's grades which, while not terrible or poor, are just a little above average. 'What type of doctor would you be interested in?' asked the lecturer. The medical student replied, 'I'd like to be an orthopaedic doctor if that was possible'. Staring at him for a short time, the lecturer respond, 'Don't get ahead of yourself'."
Desmond chuckled to himself, but the amused smile slowly fell from his face when he noticed the blank look Elaine was giving him.
"… That was the joke?" Elaine asked with a frown. She didn't even bother to hide the faint disappointment in her voice.
"Well… Yes." Desmond blinked, looking as though Elaine's lack of response wasn't normal until a look of realisation came to him.
"Oh. You mustn't know what an orthopaedic doctor-."
"Someone who specialise in bones, I think," Elaine cut across bluntly. "And 'ow was that joke supposed to be funny?"
"Er, well…" Desmond looked a bit awkward as he rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. "Well… You know. Orthopaedic doctor. Don't get a-HEAD of yourself. A. HEAD." Desmond tried to put emphasis on the word, but Elaine still gave him a blank look. She then gave a response that was as blunt as he face was empty of expression.
"… That joke sucked."
"You just don't have a sense of humour," Desmond muttered, glancing away as he tried to ignore his severely damaged pride.
"Actually, I do. Most of them just only work when told in French or are really dirty," Elaine told him. "Don't worry though. Not everyone can make a good joke."
"My jokes are good." Desmond insisted, folding his arms in an almost childish manner. "We can ask Raymond later. I'm sure he'll agree with me on this matter."
Elaine inwardly cringed at that. If Desmond had indeed told Raymond his jokes and she had just had a taste of one, she felt great, great pity for the old butler and also an increased amount of respect for him for possibly putting up with some of the worst jokes possible. Maybe Elaine was being a bit hasty in saying Desmond was terrible at making jokes, but it felt right in her body from her head to her toes.
"So, er…" Elaine gave a small cough. "Erm… Moving away from jokes, is there any difference between Desmond and Descole in regards to… in regards to me?" Elaine felt it had to be asked, odd as it may be. Desmond got out of his childish pout and looked to Elaine before taking the book she had previously been reading out of her hands, leaving it on the floor beside him, before taking her hands and placing a tiny kiss on each.
"They both feel the same towards you. The exact same attachment, adoration, occasional frustration and attraction," he murmured. "If they were physically two different people, they would probably try their best to woo you away from the other."
"You make it almost sound like their split personalities," Elaine commented.
"Perhaps, but it's true," Desmond replied, with some mirth in his eyes. Elaine couldn't really keep herself from smiling and leaned in to kiss Desmond's forehead.
"I'm not going to lie, this is a bit odd. But I think I'll 'ave no problems adjusting," Elaine said.
"Good to hear," Descole murmured. "Because I doubt I'll be wearing the mask again until the time comes." Elaine's smile faltered a little.
"And, what time is that exactly?" Desmond frowned, his eyes taking a slightly darker look to them while his grip on her hands tightened.
"When I get revenge on Targent," he answered darkly. His grip soon loosened again and he seemed more relaxed. "I can't say how far way that day is, but it can't be too far away now. I just know it." Elaine began to feel uneasy. And this had been going so well.
Desmond stood up and to Elaine's surprise, he picked her up to carry. Allowing the ice bag to drop from Elaine's ankle to the couch.
"'E-'ey, what are you-?"
"It's late. I figured I may as well take you to your bed now and continue our talk there."
"I'm not a child. I don't need you to tell me to go to bed," Elaine told him as she glared sharply towards him. Desmond looked about as bothered as Descole was whenever she gave him a glare or any sort of dark look.
"Perhaps, but it's still late. I never said you had to fall asleep right away. Just talk until you fall asleep," Desmond told her as if it was obvious. Smiling as he did so.
"And what makes you so sure I'll fall asleep first?" Desmond chuckled and kissed her cheek.
"Simple. You're childish so thereby, like a child, you'll fall asleep before the adult."
Was the last chapter a cruel cliff hanger? Maaaybe :D But don't deny it! It was a good place to do so! It brought you back for more! More Delaine! XD