august 23' - all chapters are being rewritten
❝𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.❞
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 two teenagers browse their
complicated feelings towards each other
all while juggling with villains and hero training.
s.todorokixfem!reader
𝐁...
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But I got you this rose,
"ARE YOU EXPECTING ME TO CLAP? LOOK ENCHANTED AND PROUD?"
The woman's voice, a mix of disappointment, indignation and a little of something else, pierced through the room. Her eyes peered over at the now rumpled piece of paper in her hand— the main source of her anger along with her daughter.
For what felt like the first time in forever, the ten-year-old girl had come home that day happy, and hoping her mother would be proud of her above-average score.
The thought her mother, just like everyone, for once, would find her impressive, tell her she was glad she was her daughter and that her staying locked up all summer in her dark boring room, reading and staying up day and night to finish every test paper she could find while kids her age had fun and made friends had finally paid off, lingered longly in her mind as she walked home from school, leaving a wide smile on her little face.
But now, seeing the distorted yet familiar expression that graced once again her mother's face she now felt the very opposite.
Nonetheless, there wasn't much space in the girl's heart and mind for feeling surprised. This conversation and many others that preceded it, always went that way in their family. Nothing she ever did could be considered good enough for her mother. She could never be enough for her mother.
It was her fault for thinking that today was the day things would change. That her mother's feelings about her, her only daughter would change.
So, Y/N took the only protection she possessed from her mother's words— which as pathetic as it sounded, was to squeeze her eyes close and wait for the woman to leave.
Seeing this her mother frowned even more, "You're back at this? You can't close your eyes when I talk to you!" She squeezed her eyes harder, taking a step back from her.
She tapped her heels— the ones she had posed with three weeks ago, for her fifth appearance in a Vogue magazine— furiously on the floor, hands still crumpling up the poor exam paper in her left hand, "Y/N," She called.
Hearing her name roll out of her mother's mouth with so much dislike made her heart squeeze, and almost immediately her eyes started itching.
The woman never called her by her name, however, the few times she did, it left the girl with the dreadful feeling of passing by what should be her home except she can't enter because all the doors are locked and the people inside— her family, pretend not to listen to her as she calls out to them.
"Y/N" She called again. If she found any particular delight in tormenting her in that way, she was doing an awfully good job at hiding her. The girl hadn't opened her eyes making her scoff, "You know what? You are such a waste of space, honestly,"
The girl nodded. She knew that. It was already the tenth time she was repeating it to her this time.
Her mother scoffed again, "You are no more than a useless burden, a headache, a waste of space, money and time!" This time, she threw the exam paper at the girl's feet.
Y/N nodded again, wishing more than ever, that she could get the power to magically stop understanding every word of the English language so she would no longer have to live this daily supplice.
Obviously, it was too much to ask. This left her to listen to all those words that hurt and to which she had now learnt to get used to. Words to which the only right answer was just nodding as you held back the tears that stung your eyes while their non-remorseful blades pierced through her soul until the girl started believing they were the truth.
You know, like the sayings said—
Parents were always right.
Weren't they?
"But, everybody said it was a good grade," The little girl countered, surprising her own self, because the instant the words left her mouth she brought a hand to her mouth and mentally prepared her own funeral.
At the sound of her voice, the woman blinked, startled before she smiled, "It's time you understand, I'm not everybody." the h/c woman said patting the girl's head. It was one of the only rare moments her mother ever touched the girl. It even felt like it was in a loving way.
"Not fair." She mumbled, twisting her feet as she felt the tears start crowding up into her eyeballs.
"Not fair?" The girl nodded, instantly regretting it.
"You know what's not fair?" Y/N shook her head. "Well me having to take care of your spoilt ass every single moment after the sun rises!"
"Still it isn't fair mother, I never asked to be here either," She quietly snapped, knowing the aftermath of her actions as she finally opened her eyes and met her mother's gaze.
But she waited.
She waited for a sign, a sigh, an insult, her mother's palm to hit her.
Just like all those numerous times when She dared speak up about that futile thing that was her opinion.
But nothing came.
Instead, the woman straightened up, hastily her eyes roaming around everywhere but on her own daughter as if she sought something.
Oh, how much she hated her.
Oh, how much she hated seeing herself in the girl every morning.
Oh, how much she hated the pain the girl brought upon her.
She sighed, "If you don't like it here, then you should leave." And without looking back, she walked up the stairs leading to her room and slammed the door.
When the silence finally settled back in the room, the girl let herself fall to the cold tiles that clothed the floor of their living room, as she held her trembling frame, playing over and over her mother's last words.
