This is a voyage through the possibilities of who he is and who he can be in various universes. I welcome you to a world of each and every characteristic of DeVanté is existing as a separate entity in its own universe.
created: 23 February, 2018
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On our first date, he ordered the steak and potatoes while I ordered a low calorie salad. I told him that day that I did not expect a relationship between us to bloom. For starters, he was still an undergraduate and I was in my first year of law school while completing an internship at my dream firm. All it took was fifteen minutes in his presence for me to know that we are far too different. You're fire and I'm water, I told him. His reply was simple. We can make it work... as long as you ain't scared to get stung by a little steam, he said. The events took place long before I was finessed into marrying him and eons prior to him ever fathoming the boldness to put me into predicaments such as our current.
"Mr. DeGrate, please tell us your take on the newfound evidence that has recently surfaced?"
The reporters shoved all of their microphones in his face, each and every one of those instigators are just leeching for an answer from him. How did they even know where he would be? It was his off time, he stood in regular clothing outside of the shooting range that he and his childhood friends loved to spend their spare time in. I can imagine that it's a real treat these days. I know he's got a lot of reason to want to pull a trigger.
Don took the time to step aside and from the entrance and entertain the public media. "I can't exactly speak on it but, I think it's going to be a vital piece of information capable bringing forth a massive breakthrough." He nodded, bringing his bottom lip inward out of habit as listened to a quick couple of questions.
"Why do you think so many people believe that your client, Mr. Thompson, has committed such a dishonorable crime."
The same answer that I've been hearing for the last three months came from his mouth as my annoyance reflects off of the television screen. "It's the news," he stated. "Every station's pushing an image of him being a bad boy and misconstruing what he does for fun. They think because he's a drinker or a smoker that he would commit a crime. I know plenty good and well people who have the same hobbies and can't even lift their hand to swat a fly." I roll my eyes at the strong hold he has over his country accent, as I did expect it to slip just a little.
As the screen flips back into the news station, I watch Sheila Stallone of Channel 7 News, presented by OCBS (the Orange County Broadcasting System) take her time before the camera. "Though Mr. DeGrate declined any questions regarding the prosecuting party, it is said that they, too, are taking a look at the newfound evidence as they are still being led by–" I click the television off.
My head rolls slowly as I turn to him. He sits on the opposing end of the couch, glasses resting on the brim of his nose, with a pencil in his right hand and a sudoko puzzle book in his left. On my own cushion, my knees to my chest beneath the shirt I gained from his possession, I send him an evil eye as I bring my wine to my lips. He is focused. I can tell that he also stressed and that is why he is attempting to release some built up pressure through others ways besides sex, considering that we have not touched one another in months.
