mickey einstein just wants to make a name for himself in the quidditch world and move far away from everything and everyone. a certain haughty james potter is getting in the way of that.
[intrigue universe]
[james x male oc]
[james' sixth-seventh ye...
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07 warning(s): mentions of death, angst
Mickey hates his entire family. Really hates them. In the grand scheme of things, Mickey doesn't consider himself a very hateful person at all. In fact, if his friends were having family problems, he'd encourage them to use empathy before anger. The only problem with the Einsteins is that Mickey has tried empathy, and it only comes back to bite him in the ass.
Mickey misses his mom. She was the only one who accepted him for who he was and is. She was the one who cuddled him during nights when he had nightmares. She was the one who wore matching outfits with him when they went to the park. She was the one who painted his nails to match hers every Sunday morning. She was the one he came out to, and the only one who told him she was proud.
Mickey knows it's kind of selfish to wish his mother was still alive. After all, she's in heaven now, away from a verbally abusive husband and the painful stress of the world. But she left him, and it hurts because Mickey feels like he's alone most days. His mother was his kindred spirit. She was kind and loving and wonderful. She was sarcastic and rude to men who tried to walk over her (including her husband.) She wore bright colors and went to protests and rock concerts. She gave him the nickname Mickey, after that stupid mouse cartoon she loved so much.
She taught him that boys can cry and wear flowers in their hair and paint their nails. She taught him that he can be whatever he wants as long as it isn't harmful to others. She taught him how to ride a broom, and Mickey swears some days he can still remember how it felt to chase her through the woods, her boisterous laughter trailing after her.
She was beautiful. Her jet black hair was curly, cut short and hidden behind a bandana most days. Her eyes were bright blue, the color of the sky, and Mickey remembers vividly how calming it felt to look into them. He remembers how soft her hugs were and how gentle her voice was and how nice she smelt.
He wishes she were here right now.
But she isn't. Instead Adam is here, sitting across from him in the library, chiding him for wearing perfume. "Mate, I'm just saying, people are gonna think it's weird when you're walking around wearing old lady perfume."
Mickey doesn't think it's old lady perfume. He thinks it's lavender and vanilla, and it's the last bottle his mom bought before she got sick and stopped using it. It's the perfume he stole the night after her funeral, and he has been rationing it ever since.
Today was an emergency. "Back off, Adam."
Adam rolls his eyes, as if Mickey is the inconsiderate one in the situation. "Why are you so moody today?"
"I'm not." Mickey mumbles. He misses his mom, that's all. It's been six years and he really just wants her to reappear and tell him that she's proud of him. He wants to make sure he isn't disappointing her like his dad's letter said.
