Darker than Blanc

7:2 | Thaddeus - without even knowing it

Cough. She's coughing again and everytime it gets more heartbreaking than the one before. Thaddeus could feel her lungs rattling and it was starting to get alarming. His fingers was shaking as he held the glass of water.

He knew this was fear.

But his mother just wiped her mouth with her handkerchief, dyeing it just a bit red before pocketing it away from his sight.

But he saw.

"Oh Thaddeus, my dear. Thank you," She took the glass of water from him and gave him a bright smile that should be placating. But it did not quell the irrational worry swirling inside him. Thaddeus wasn't stupid. He lived thirteen years to see death and know when it is staring him in the face. "Did your father return yet?"

He shook his head. His father had been spending more and more time in the lab lately, only getting home really late at night looking haggard and exhausted; a striking contrast from the self-confident and celebrated neurologist he was known to everyone.

"Mom, your cough... it's getting worse." He choked out, trying not to burst into tears. He wasn't a crier. Men don't cry, that's what his father told him. He didn't cry when Abel Scaarsberg and his cronies pushed him off the stairs. He didn't even flinch as he blackmailed each and every one of them. He wasn't even fazed when Professor DiLorenzo was cracking down Gerin Hall for alleged bullying. He smiled as he swung an arm over Abel's shoulder. Bullying? Psh. You got the wrong dorm doc.

"Nonsense dear. My body doesn't agree with the frosty winter," She ruffled his carefully styled hair. "I'll be fine come spring."

"But you should still see a doctor." He advised.

For a split second, her sunny disposition dampened. "We did. They said I'm going to be fine. You worry too much my dear," She laughed, and Thaddeus feared why he tried memorizing her smile and her laugh.... as if she'll go somewhere far away he can't follow. "I assure you, this cough is seasonal."

She lied.

"Thaddeus," She suddenly turned to him with a serious expression on her face. "You're such a kind boy. I'm lucky to call you my son. Please, continue to be kind too in the future."

Kind? Him?

"And dear, you don't have to follow your father in medicine if you don't want to. We'll support you whichever path you take." He stared up at her with wide eyes. He always thought to repay them, he'd have to be a doctor too. He never expected her to say that. Abel, for one is being pushed (pressured) by his parents to take law and eventually succeed Senator Scaarsberg.

Why was she saying all these?

..... as if she's saying goodbye.

....................................................................

"Is this supposed to turn black?" He asked irately as he glared down on their shared pot. His morning already didn't start right. He just woke up from a dream featuring his dead mother. His dad also just sent him a letter to stay over at his grandparents' house this winter break (since dad would be holed in his laboratory and their estate in Carrel would be empty). Overall, his day already didn't start right and it looks like it wasn't going to get better anytime soon.

"Yes," The young woman beside him skimmed her green eyes at the recipe book. "And I think it's supposed to explode to our faces too." She remarked in a cool tone. He realized she was playing him.

"I'm kidding. It would all work out in the end." She wasn't perturbed at all, merely gazing at her perfectly manicured nails. He doesn't know what's going on in that pretty little head of hers, but it's probably spinning with dresses and sparkles and not actually passing their Indigenous Cultures class.