Noah couldn't interpret her hesitation to destroy the drugs as ignorance of the proper method, or of trickery. Noah knew about people who fell too far to drugs -- men who gave away everything they had, women who sold their bodies to get their fix, orphans ding whatever they could to reach come semblance of comfort -- and he would not allow himself to fall to the deception that Delphine may or may not be trying to create. Pushing off the table, the tall man moved quickly towards his room. He slammed the door behind him, but was only in there momentarily. When he emerged again, body still tense and jaw still fixed, he was holding a small wooden box affixed with a latch and lock.
"Put them in here." He said, handing it out to her. He would never tell her his intentions for the box and its contents, but she could be sure that they would not be in this home as soon as day broke.
When she asked if he wanted tea, he nearly scoffed. "No. I don't want tea." When she had placed all of the illicit substances in the box, Noah slammed it closed and locked it without a second thought. He veered back to his room in an instant, the door closing behind him again. He hid the box from her sight. He returned to the larger living area and just stood for a moment, watching her. All of the emotion still bubbled in his core. He hated this. He hated every second of it. Nothing felt good, nothing felt right. All of it felt dark and angry and sour. His large hand lifted to his face and he rubbed his forehead some, trying to release the tension of his own muscles. He didn't know what else to say, so wordlessly, he moved over to his chair by the fire and sat down.
