9» that wish

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Lucius's POV
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"How is school going?" Mom asked as I looked down at my mug of coffee--black coffee. The only thing that drained away my morning exhaustion.

"Great," I replied.

She heard the lack of enthusiasm in my voice. Because she was my mom and letting go of small inconveniences wasn't her thing. I wasn't surprised when she turned around from the kitchen counter and looked at me, wiping her hands on the dish towel.

"I mean for real, Luc. How is it?" She asked. Her shifts were mostly at night, so I tried my best to wake up before her and leave. Mostly for school. But if other things came up, I left for them then.

"It's great, Mom." I looked up at her. "For real."

This was the exact reason why I tried leaving before she woke up. She initiated conversations that were hard to go along with.

Mom responded with a small smile, her eyes crinkling up at the edges--something I loved a lot about her. Smiling always cured pain, at least that's what she thought. I used to believe in that too. Until I couldn't do it anymore.

"You seem so tired these days." She said. "Is there something you want to...tell me?"

I furrowed my brows and looked away. There was so much I wanted to tell her. And at the same time, there was nothing I could say to her. She already spent her nights trying to keep this family together.

What family? I thought. There were just the two of us here. Who would even call this a family?

"I'm fine, Mom." I kept it simple, reassuring.

She blew out a sigh and nodded. I took those silent few seconds to drink up my coffee.

"I saw the cash on the couch last night." She had her back towards me now. I could see the fine white streaks in her hair, and once again I wished she would stop working so hard. I wished I could be a better son, at least for her.

"What about it?" I asked just as casually. Mom didn't know what I did at night, or how I brought cash here from time to time. She never asked me. She just trusted.

"Luc, you never told me you got a job." She started. "I don't know what kind of job this is. You're almost nineteen now. And I feel like...like you're drifting apart."

I looked up at her. There was worry and that unmistakable fear in her voice, and it made me regret so many things. But I couldn't back off now. I couldn't.

"I feel like if something happens, something bad, you won't tell me." She added.

I let out a sigh and rubbed my eyes. "Mom, don't think too much. I promise you, I'm fine. And nothing's happening to me."

She faced me once again and watching the worry on her face was much worse than hearing it in her voice. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I murmured, not even sure what I was doing. Perhaps this was it. I needed to leave now. Not because it was getting late for school, but because I didn't think I could've stayed here any longer.

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