Kissinger quote
There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full.
Henry Kissinger
"You're what," Stella Daniels asked into the phone.
"I'm just contemplating a change, mom," Devon answered back, rubbing his forehead.
"I believe you said, 'I'm thinking about moving to New York." It's like Stella to correct her son. No, not to correct, just specify. Her therapist background was what irked her son the most yet he still called when he needed her. It was what he did. "You can't just say something like 'I'm thinking about moving to New York' and then brush it right under the rug like dirt on the floor."
Sighing, Devon shook his head. "I know that, mom. I wasn't trying to -- brush it under the rug like dirt on the floor. I'm haven't even come to a decision, yet. I just wanted to talk to you. We haven't talked..."
"Since last night," she added, mostly for herself. Stella was always one to put things into perspective. "And I don't know if that counts, dear. You brought a friend." She made sure to put emphasis on the word, "friend."
"Yes, and you were the picture of politeness," Devon said, his sarcasm showing through.
"I was," she assured him. "But that's my point. You brought a friend home for Thanksgiving who, when you weren't trying to shield from my 'therapist ways' as you so charmingly put it, you undressed with your eyes."
"Mom!" he said into the phone, standing up. The bed under him already looked like it missed him since he had been there all day but he decided he couldn't have the rest of this conversation while being comfortable. In fact, this made him pretty damn uncomfortable.
"I'm just trying to-"
"Butt into my life," he interrupted.
"You're the one who called me and who told me that you might be moving sometime soon!" His mother entered her kitchen, turning the light on, before making her way to the counter.
"I didn't say, 'sometime soon.' Sometime soon never came up," he assured her.
"Are you having some kind of crisis?" she asked. "A mental crisis, perhaps?"
"I just called to - " He shut himself up in a huff before taking a moment to himself. "I am not having a crisis today. I am not having a crisis next week. I'm am crisis-less. I'm just...contemplating."
"You're not having a crisis and you're not going to have a crisis? Next week or at all," she asked. "For the record?"
"Firstly, no. Secondly, there cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full."
"What?" Stella asked, pulling out a box of Triscuits.
"Kissinger."
With a handful of Triscuits in her hand, Stella leaned against the counter. "Now that we've established you are without a crisis, what is this about moving to New York...?"
[Character] Devon Davis
[Fandom] Original Character
[Word Count]459
Henry Kissinger
"You're what," Stella Daniels asked into the phone.
"I'm just contemplating a change, mom," Devon answered back, rubbing his forehead.
"I believe you said, 'I'm thinking about moving to New York." It's like Stella to correct her son. No, not to correct, just specify. Her therapist background was what irked her son the most yet he still called when he needed her. It was what he did. "You can't just say something like 'I'm thinking about moving to New York' and then brush it right under the rug like dirt on the floor."
Sighing, Devon shook his head. "I know that, mom. I wasn't trying to -- brush it under the rug like dirt on the floor. I'm haven't even come to a decision, yet. I just wanted to talk to you. We haven't talked..."
"Since last night," she added, mostly for herself. Stella was always one to put things into perspective. "And I don't know if that counts, dear. You brought a friend." She made sure to put emphasis on the word, "friend."
"Yes, and you were the picture of politeness," Devon said, his sarcasm showing through.
"I was," she assured him. "But that's my point. You brought a friend home for Thanksgiving who, when you weren't trying to shield from my 'therapist ways' as you so charmingly put it, you undressed with your eyes."
"Mom!" he said into the phone, standing up. The bed under him already looked like it missed him since he had been there all day but he decided he couldn't have the rest of this conversation while being comfortable. In fact, this made him pretty damn uncomfortable.
"I'm just trying to-"
"Butt into my life," he interrupted.
"You're the one who called me and who told me that you might be moving sometime soon!" His mother entered her kitchen, turning the light on, before making her way to the counter.
"I didn't say, 'sometime soon.' Sometime soon never came up," he assured her.
"Are you having some kind of crisis?" she asked. "A mental crisis, perhaps?"
"I just called to - " He shut himself up in a huff before taking a moment to himself. "I am not having a crisis today. I am not having a crisis next week. I'm am crisis-less. I'm just...contemplating."
"You're not having a crisis and you're not going to have a crisis? Next week or at all," she asked. "For the record?"
"Firstly, no. Secondly, there cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full."
"What?" Stella asked, pulling out a box of Triscuits.
"Kissinger."
With a handful of Triscuits in her hand, Stella leaned against the counter. "Now that we've established you are without a crisis, what is this about moving to New York...?"
[Character] Devon Davis
[Fandom] Original Character
[Word Count]459