chapter seven

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The sound of Peters voiced echoed throughout the house. Nicola and Connor looked at each other, both sighing in relief that their father was now home. Both kids got up from their spot on Nicolas bed and made their way downstairs.

"Hi honey, how was your day?" Kathy asked, suddenly becoming more angelic in the presence of Peter. Connor rolled his eyes at this, it was such a reoccurring thing now.

"Good, thank you!" Peter smiled, leaning in to place a delicate kiss on his wife's cheek. Connor hated this.

He hated that his parents go divorced. He hated that his parents married somebody else. He hated that his dad married a total monster. He hated how Kathy treated he and his siblings. He hated everything about it, he wished he could go back in time. Go back to when everything was simple.

But, of course, nothing was that easy. This was his life now, and he'd just have to accept it.

He can't go back to the one, big, happy family. He can't go back to the Saturday morning traditions. He can't go back to his parents loving affection towards each other. But, holy shit, does he wish he could.

He's happy that his parents are happy, of course. That's always important.

Connor's thoughts were cut off when his father called his name, asking how his day was.

__

After a half an hour or so, Kathy called everybody to the dinner table. It was, thankfully, time for dinner. Connor hasn't eaten since he got to his fathers house.

Kathy called everybody to the kitchen, that way everybody could pick out which piece they wanted and the amount of food. Connor, being as hungry as he is, decided on grabbing the biggest piece of chicken available. Thankfully, everybody was okay with him doing so.

As soon as everyone sat down for dinner, Peter gave to okay to begin eating. Connor grabbed his fork from the left side of his plate his his knife from then. He then proceeded to cut into the chicken.

As he did, he noticed how there were little spots of pink. Confused, Connor began cutting his chicken in different spots, noticing how most of the chicken had a pink tint to it.

It was raw, he finally decided.

Peter noticed how Connor has yet to take a bite of his chicken so he began questioning his son.

"Is everything okay, Con?"

"What? Yeah, i'm fine." He stated, not wanting to admit that the chicken was, in fact, raw. He was scared that Kathy would get mad at him for calling her out. He was also scared that Kathy would get mad at him for not eating most of his chicken.

So, Connor, being a fucking idiot, decided to eat the chicken anyways. Taking a sip of water to wash it down after every bite.

Surely, his actions would come to bite him in the butt.

And they did.

At 4:13 in the morning.

Connor woke up suddenly, feeling a churning feeling in his stomach.

No no no he thought. Do NOT throw up, Connor.

Connor hated throwing up. He hated the idea of it. He hated the after taste. He just hated it. So, he did everything he could think of to prevent it.

He tried squeezing his thumb, which is supposed to be some sort of gag reflex. He also tried making sure he kept his head higher than his feet whilst laying down. None of that worked, because soon he was making a mad dash for the bathroom, spilling his guts into the toilet.

simply sincere • a tronnor au ✔️Where stories live. Discover now