He can see the way she falls into her own head, into her thoughts. He knows she never wanted to be a mother, especially not to a son. He tsks his tongue. “I know you don't know, darling.”
Hands move to rest at the small of her back, peering down at her. “If you'd like to ask +
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⠀⠀⠀⠀❛❛⠀I - I don't know... ❜
⠀⠀⠀almost pouting, suddenly she wasn't a grown up woman with an opinion, she was a girl trying not to get see with her hand on the cookie jar. putting her hands together shyly.
he's right, she never has shown any interest in
+
⠀
A sigh from his lips, hand reaching up to rub over his face. “How do 𝘺𝘰𝘶 think I should handle him, doll? Since, suddenly, you want to be a mother.”
A raise of his brow as he looks down at her, a stoic expression on his face.
⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀❛❛⠀people will see him in the porch... they'll think he's a drunk. ❜
⠀⠀⠀she has to force herself not to sound annoyed or upset, instead trying to go calm and disinterested, the second her husband sensed any type of emotion in her voice, he would
+
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“I have the keys to his car after the comment he made about 'running away'. Where he sleeps at night doesn't concern us. Hell, if he wants to act like a dog, he can sleep on the porch like one for all I care."
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⠀⠀⠀⠀❛❛⠀I'm not worried about him telling anyone, darling. I'm worried about someone seeing him, where does he sleep? in his car? just outside the house like a dog? it looks bad... ❜
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀❛❛⠀I just worry the neighbors might see him out there... sleeping wherever he sleeps when you won't allow him in. how could I explain it if they asked? you know Miss Johnson is so noisy... ❜
⠀
my rot is as hungry as me. and when god asks me about love, i always respond with cruelty. i know no other answer ﹔ know no other question. yes, love can be the violence.
despite my son thinking he can do anything he wants. You know, you're the source of all problems, son. I don't understand how I ended up with a child so 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. So pathetic. Wouldn't you agree? 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦, Steven."
Danny shakes his head with a disapproving click of his tongue. "Son, I don't give a fuck if Raegan himself asked you to help him. When I ask for you home, I expect you home. Do I make myself clear?" He keeps his tone sickingly calm.
⠀
his pacing comes to a halt as the front door opens, his father standing tall on the other side. he feels like a deer caught in headlights; breath caught in his throat. dull nails dig deeper into his palms.
anxiety pools his veins, ——-
grabs Steve by the collar of his shirt to slam him back into the wall behind him. "Oh? Claudia wants to know how I'm doing?" He asks through gritted teeth, knuckles almost white from the grip on his son's shirt.
"I've been 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 +