Chapter 21: What I Think

341 14 22
                                    


~♢~

That same night that Y/n came back from the beach, sporting matted hair and a generous amount of sand, she found her mother awake on the couch, with a glass of deep-red wine held gracefully in her thin hand. She was currently watching reruns of The Walking Dead.

Tired, devastated, Y/n plodded along forward and made it to the living room. She dropped her bag on the floor with a loud thud and dove onto the couch. Endless specks of sand fell off of the disheveled girl and pelted the wooden floor, and to her mother's horror, the couch.

The woman gaped as she got a closer look at the tiny grains spilled out onto the very floor she had cleaned that afternoon. Her wine sloshed within the glass as she lurched forward and exclaimed.

"You're going to get sand on the sofa!"

"I'll clean it up," Y/n murmured sleepily with her eyes shut. She groggily reached over for a couch pillow and hugged it close, lying her head on top of it and breathing out in comfort.

Her mother simply looked on at her and shook her head, taking a long swig of her wine before turning her attention back to the show.

Just when Mrs. L/n thought that her daughter had fallen asleep, she heard the girl mumble something that she didn't quite catch.

"Pardon?"

Y/n spoke more clearly.

"Is this the season where they all get fucked up?"

Mrs. L/n exhaled.

"Oh my God, don't say it like that!"

The woman was trying her best to sound stern as she lectured her daughter on the inappropriate usage of swear words, but the woman couldn't help but laugh quietly towards the end. She reached over and carded her fingers affectionately through the wild locks of her daughter's hair.

A ghost of a smile crept up on Y/n's face, and she kept her eyes closed.

"I love you, Mom."

Mrs. L/n smiled down at her daughter's beautiful face and felt pity for her young one. The girl looked tired. And the woman could have sworn that there were remnants of tears stained onto her daughter's cheeks.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

The soft glow of the TV brought light into the dark room, and during brighter scenes, Mrs. L/n saw the tear stains clear as day.

Her daughter, delirious from exhaustion, spoke softly and innocently.

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you the other day. I appreciate you and your nagging, Mom."

And there it was.

The point in which Mrs. L/n realized that she had let her daughter down.

The woman looked towards the TV, and her chin quivered.

She wrote off Wednesday's incident as simply an act of rebellion from her daughter. A teen thing. But now, seeing Y/n in the state she was in broke her heart. It made her unfathomably sad hearing her daughter apologize when there was no need for it.

Y/n heard no response. She opened her stinging eyes to see what her mother was doing.

The woman was crying.

"No, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you."

Hands smoothed over the girl's hair and provided her with a certain kind of comfort that she hadn't had in ages. Y/n closed her eyes and listened to her mother's faltering voice.

Complexity- Armin x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now