The Hummingbird

Vivian sat at the reception, tapping away on a computer as Blake stormed in. "Where's Delilah?" He growled out, looking around quickly.

Vivian frowned at his attitude. "Why, did she superglue Christian's hands in his pockets again?"

"Worse, she embarrassed Christian in front of Isabella," Blake answered, "so where is she?"

"I can tell you where she isn't," Vivian replied. "She isn't down here. Does that help?"

"Barely," Blake grumbled out, heading towards the stairs to the loft. "Thanks, I guess."

"Hey, go easy!" Vivian called after him. "She was probably only trying to help!”



Oblivious to her impending doom Delilah sat cross legged in front of a semi-blank wall. Today she had her hair up in a messy bun, a paint covered shirt on and some shorts. She hummed as she sketched a simple design on part of her wall. Flowers were slowly coming into being as she carefully connected the lines together.

"Delilah," Blake spoke from behind her, leaning against a plain wall.

Delilah jolted at Blake's unexpected appearance, turning with wide eyes to see that he didn't look happy, though when did he ever look happy? "Blake? What brings you to my neck of the gardens?” She asked, turning her gaze back to the forming mural.

“What’d you say to Christian?” Blake demanded of her. “He said something about you putting him on the spot and embarrassing him in front of Isabella. So what was it?”

Delilah used the edge of her pencil to scratch her neck before answering Blake. “Is this a trick question? You wouldn’t have come charging over if you didn’t know what exactly I said," she retorted softly, “besides I didn’t mean to embarrass him, I just forgot how easy it was to do it.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“You didn’t even stick around after you said it,” Blake argued, inadvertently admitting he knew exactly what she said by not addressing it. “You have no idea how long we’ve been trying to get him to open up! And then you had to say something. Christian needs to do it on his own.”

Delilah’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “so this is the way you treat him? Like a baby who can’t do anything? So you aren’t the hard-ass you want everyone to believe you are.” She stated, clicking her tongue in annoyance. “Let me tell you what his future looks like if everyone keeps treating him like a delicate flower. He never gets pushed to get out of his comfort zone. Isabella, bless her, never realizes Christian’s feelings for her, how can she when all he does is avoid her like a plague? She ends up finding someone else to fall in love with and he’s left with regret and more self-pity.”

“Oh, and you’re the person to push him, huh?” Blake scoffed. “What gives you the right to decide that he’s ready? He just needs more time and confidence. He’s already improved to the point that he can be around her without embarrassing himself, but now you’ve just set him back with your oh so helpful comment.”

Delilah dropped her pencil and watched it roll across the floor as she stood up and faced Blake, folding her arms across her chest. “I never said I was the person to push him, I’m just the only one here who seems to have the balls to do it.”

“Well you sure acted like you were God’s gift for Christian’s problems,” Blake pointed out. “You need to take a more delicate approach. Sure, it’s great you’re pushing him a little harder, but it doesn’t need to humiliate him at the same time.”

Delilah’s expression softened and she unfolded her arms. “Okay, fine. I’ll reign in my bluntness, I didn’t mean to humiliate him.” She muttered, turning away and recollecting her pencil. “Anything else?” She asked.

“Your pencil rolled down the stairs,” Blake shot back, crossing his arms and smirking slightly at her.

Delilah cursed under her breath as she moved passed Blake to find it downstairs.



Vivian entered the cafe, waving hello to an elderly couple as she went behind the counter. “Ah, Isabella,” she greeted, smiling. “Busy today?”

“A little,” Isabella answered, looking up from her checklist. “A few people are still curious about the opening, so they come to try us out.”

“I thought the whole village must’ve visited us by now,” Vivian laughed. “Guess I was wrong. Anything I can help with for closing?”

“Just sweeping and mopping, and ordering for tomorrow,” Isabella put her checklist away.

“Hey, I actually want to talk to you about something that happened yesterday,” Vivian said, grabbing the broom from a little side-cupboard.

“Oh, did I do something? Harley said putting some cinnamon in the muffins was okay, even if it wasn’t in the recipe,” Isabella gasped hurriedly, “but I won’t do it again!”

“No, it’s nothing bad!” Vivan reassured hastily. “Sorry, I should’ve been clearer. Good move with the cinnamon though, keep doing that. I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Christian yesterday.”

“Oh,” Isabella sighed in relief. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to talk to someone about it too.”

“Great!” Vivian exclaimed. “Go for it.”

“Delilah mentioned sexual tension between Christian and I,” Isabella blushed at the mention of ‘sexual tension.’ “And I was wondering, is it true? Does Christian like me? Because I thought he hated me. I mean, he avoids me all the time and if he has to be around me he’s always looking for the closest escape route,” Isabella rambled.

“It’s precisely because he likes you that that happens,” Vivian explained gently. “He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t know how to be around you and be himself at the same time. It’s very overwhelming for him.”

“O-oh, I see.” Isabella looked deep in thought for a moment before giving Vivian a shy smile. “Thank you,” she stated, turning back to her own work, but seemingly in a rush to finish cleaning up.

“Of course,” Vivian replied. “Go knock off early, I’ll handle the rest. Just make sure you change out of that silly uniform before you see him, yeah?”