Categories > Cartoons > Delilah and Julius > The Last Night
Who knew one event could completely ruin your life? And, that the event could bring one person such complete, utter joy and pleasure and delight, while the same thing tears you apart on the inside? Julius lay on his bed, still angry about the suggestion that he may have gotten his partner pregnant, and being forbidden to see her when she was with her father. He knew that he should feel happy for her, but he just /couldn't/. Every time he saw them together, or heard them talking, pain flooded through him. His parents were gone, and nothing could change that - he knew that. Still, he had felt some comfort in knowing that he wasn't the only person at the Academy who was an orphan.
Now he was. And now, he could never talk about that ever again with Delilah. She wouldn't want to be reminded of the eleven years where she had fretted about her parents being alive or dead. With her father back, Phineas was all she would ever focus on. Sighing, he rolled over on his bed, his eyes finding the pictures of the families he once had.
The first photograph was old, with creases in it. If it hadn't have been in a frame, he would see where the corners had been torn off. In the photo were three people at a playground: a mother, a father, and a son. The woman's eyes, strikingly blue, radiated her motherly nature. One could easily note the carefree expression in those beautiful eyes, but also observe a hint of concern as she watched her son playing on a swing. Her long, blond hair was done behind her head in a ponytail. She was smiling.
Beside her, a tall, young, handsome man stood, with one arms wrapped around her frail waist. His hair, too, was blond, but short, spiking out at the front. His eyes, one brown and one blue, were glued to the woman. However, you could see - or was it just Julius? - that he was watching his son, too, out of the corner of his eye.
The boy on the swing was a spitting image of his parents: blond hair from both of them, his mother's eyes, and the smile from his father that could melt a heart. His mouth was wide open, and he was happy, flying high through the air, without a care in the world. The boy had a loving family and everything he could want.
However, three days after the photograph was taken, the boy was alone.
Julius closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain that surged up inside of him. He turned his attention to the second picture, which had been taken only a month ago. It was of him and Delilah, when they were goofing off with his new camera. Delilah was on top of him, her arms draped around his neck. Her eyes were closed and she was laughing. Julius was reaching up to throw her off, smiling widely. In that picture, he had everything he could want.
Now, a month later, he was alone.
Closing his eyes again in anguish, he reached out and put the second photo face down. Moments later, he had drifted into uneasy slumber.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Delilah had never felt so torn. She had never felt so thrilled and overjoyed, and at the same time worried and depressed. On one hand, the event she had been praying to happen for over a decade had come true: her father was back. When she had walked through the door and seen him ... words could not describe the joy she had felt. Everyone else had given up on her parents ever coming back. She would walk down the hall and whispers would follow.
"Her parents are dead. Why can't she see that?"
"Even if they're not dead, they're traitors."
"How can she be so blind to what everyone else can see?"
"I don't know why she bothers to hope."
Many times she had asked herself: why did she bother to hope? Everyone at the Academy was convinced that they were dead. Even Al and Scarlett had their doubts. When Delilah cried because she missed them, they'd try to console her. They'd say that they were just biding their time until they came back. That somehow it was still too dangerous for them. But Delilah could tell that they doubted their answers. Hope was the only thing she had to hold on to. That, and Julius.
Julius ...
This was where the worry came in. She had only spoken to him once since her father had returned, and it had scared her. Sure, she'd seen his edgy side before, but it had never been directed at her. Even though it had only been for one brief second, his attack had stung.
When he had been talking with her father, she had sensed his torment. She knew his sarcasm and anger was trying to shield it, keep it from her eyes, but still she saw it. His expression when she and her father had first embraced was locked in her mind. It was one of shock, confusion, happiness (for her), and, for a short moment, sorrow. Then he had looked away. She really couldn't blame him. His parents were dead; they could never come back. Never again could they hold him. He would be jealous, of course, and maybe a bit angry. Angry at her. That cut her deeply, knowing her partner, her best friend, more than that, was angry at her. And with her father back, he'd always carry that rage inside him.
However, what hurt her more was the fact that Julius had made no attempt to speak with her for three days, since his first encounter with her father. Scarlett had told her it was best that Julius and Phineas weren't in the same room together. Right then, Delilah knew her time with Julius would diminish. Sure, she loved to spend time with him, but her father was home, after eleven years. She couldn't just reject him to spend time with her partner.
But still, Julius could have made some attempt to talk with her. At night they used to sneak into each other's rooms, just to hang out and talk. Every night she would fight sleep, waiting for the soft knock at her door, announcing his presence. But it never came. Once, she tried to get into his room, but the only answer was a loud, fake snore. He was avoiding her, and she didn't know why. How she longed for a mission, preferably far away, so they could be alone on the long plane ride and finally talk. But Al was giving them time off - giving her time off, because of Phineas.
"Oh Julius," she moaned to herself, "why are you making this so hard for me?"
Now he was. And now, he could never talk about that ever again with Delilah. She wouldn't want to be reminded of the eleven years where she had fretted about her parents being alive or dead. With her father back, Phineas was all she would ever focus on. Sighing, he rolled over on his bed, his eyes finding the pictures of the families he once had.
The first photograph was old, with creases in it. If it hadn't have been in a frame, he would see where the corners had been torn off. In the photo were three people at a playground: a mother, a father, and a son. The woman's eyes, strikingly blue, radiated her motherly nature. One could easily note the carefree expression in those beautiful eyes, but also observe a hint of concern as she watched her son playing on a swing. Her long, blond hair was done behind her head in a ponytail. She was smiling.
Beside her, a tall, young, handsome man stood, with one arms wrapped around her frail waist. His hair, too, was blond, but short, spiking out at the front. His eyes, one brown and one blue, were glued to the woman. However, you could see - or was it just Julius? - that he was watching his son, too, out of the corner of his eye.
The boy on the swing was a spitting image of his parents: blond hair from both of them, his mother's eyes, and the smile from his father that could melt a heart. His mouth was wide open, and he was happy, flying high through the air, without a care in the world. The boy had a loving family and everything he could want.
However, three days after the photograph was taken, the boy was alone.
Julius closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain that surged up inside of him. He turned his attention to the second picture, which had been taken only a month ago. It was of him and Delilah, when they were goofing off with his new camera. Delilah was on top of him, her arms draped around his neck. Her eyes were closed and she was laughing. Julius was reaching up to throw her off, smiling widely. In that picture, he had everything he could want.
Now, a month later, he was alone.
Closing his eyes again in anguish, he reached out and put the second photo face down. Moments later, he had drifted into uneasy slumber.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Delilah had never felt so torn. She had never felt so thrilled and overjoyed, and at the same time worried and depressed. On one hand, the event she had been praying to happen for over a decade had come true: her father was back. When she had walked through the door and seen him ... words could not describe the joy she had felt. Everyone else had given up on her parents ever coming back. She would walk down the hall and whispers would follow.
"Her parents are dead. Why can't she see that?"
"Even if they're not dead, they're traitors."
"How can she be so blind to what everyone else can see?"
"I don't know why she bothers to hope."
Many times she had asked herself: why did she bother to hope? Everyone at the Academy was convinced that they were dead. Even Al and Scarlett had their doubts. When Delilah cried because she missed them, they'd try to console her. They'd say that they were just biding their time until they came back. That somehow it was still too dangerous for them. But Delilah could tell that they doubted their answers. Hope was the only thing she had to hold on to. That, and Julius.
Julius ...
This was where the worry came in. She had only spoken to him once since her father had returned, and it had scared her. Sure, she'd seen his edgy side before, but it had never been directed at her. Even though it had only been for one brief second, his attack had stung.
When he had been talking with her father, she had sensed his torment. She knew his sarcasm and anger was trying to shield it, keep it from her eyes, but still she saw it. His expression when she and her father had first embraced was locked in her mind. It was one of shock, confusion, happiness (for her), and, for a short moment, sorrow. Then he had looked away. She really couldn't blame him. His parents were dead; they could never come back. Never again could they hold him. He would be jealous, of course, and maybe a bit angry. Angry at her. That cut her deeply, knowing her partner, her best friend, more than that, was angry at her. And with her father back, he'd always carry that rage inside him.
However, what hurt her more was the fact that Julius had made no attempt to speak with her for three days, since his first encounter with her father. Scarlett had told her it was best that Julius and Phineas weren't in the same room together. Right then, Delilah knew her time with Julius would diminish. Sure, she loved to spend time with him, but her father was home, after eleven years. She couldn't just reject him to spend time with her partner.
But still, Julius could have made some attempt to talk with her. At night they used to sneak into each other's rooms, just to hang out and talk. Every night she would fight sleep, waiting for the soft knock at her door, announcing his presence. But it never came. Once, she tried to get into his room, but the only answer was a loud, fake snore. He was avoiding her, and she didn't know why. How she longed for a mission, preferably far away, so they could be alone on the long plane ride and finally talk. But Al was giving them time off - giving her time off, because of Phineas.
"Oh Julius," she moaned to herself, "why are you making this so hard for me?"
Sign up to rate and review this story