Life: the unpredictable roller coaster of existence.
After a year of defeats and victories, Dean and Blake are about to take yet another year, now as third-year university students.
As if that alone wasn't bound to be a challenge, their world is t...
PLEASE VOTE: I know many people forget, but the votes are what boosts the story so more people can find it. 🖤🙏
In every chapter, I will shout out someone, as a thank you for reading! If you want to be the next shout-out, you just have to VOTE and leave a COMMENT (anything you want to).
Chapter 5 and 6 were posted at the same time! Be sure to read chapter 5
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The stepladder creaked with the movement. Dean kept stealing looks at his mother, who had a foot perched on the ladder and the other on the part of the counter she had cleared.
"Are you sure you don't want help?" Dean asked.
His mother took the wallplug she had been holding between her teeth.
"I'm sure, Sweetie." She placed the plug in the cupboard door she was repairing. "This will only take a second. Do you have everything?"
"Yes, the oven is preheating," he replied, lining one of the large baking sheets with parchment paper while trying to keep his focus on his mother.
The stepladder looked in good condition but it didn't lessen Dean's uneasiness. He was close enough that in case of a fall he would be able to rush over, but what was that to say he would catch her? Guilt gnawed at him with the thought. He hoped he would reach out if she were to fall, that he wouldn't let his mother get hurt, even if he couldn't tell what his reaction would be after.
He had been talking with Miss Pam about eventually trying to touch someone apart from Blake and, although the idea still turned his stomach, Dean had no doubt his mother would be the person he wished to be able to touch.
"Was the recipe where I told you?"
"It was," he replied, grabbing a cake tin to outline a circle on each baking sheet. "The paper is a tad torn. Perhaps we should digitalise the recipe."
"That would be a good idea." She picked up the screwdriver, twisting the nail in the hinge. "I almost thought we had lost it. We haven't made this Meringue cake since..." She paused. "In a long time."
Dean glanced at his mother, showing her a small reassuring smile.
"Since my father was craving it," he spelt out.
Talking about his father still felt like meddling with an injury, yet, little by little, Dean was making an effort to make peace with it. He and his mother had already lost his father once, Dean couldn't let his memories die as well.
His mother looked at him, responding with a smile of her own.
"Yes," she agreed. "Since he asked."
She turned back to the cupboard, testing the door a couple of times.
"I think it's fixed," she announced, placing a hand on a shelf for support.
Dean watched on pins and needles, studying each movement as she climbed down. His hands itched at the contradicting feelings of concern for her and nervousness at his own reaction.
