platonic, 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞

fifteen

Y/N awoke at the usual 7am, freezing cold due to the duvet and all the blankets being stolen by Maddie during the night. She sat up. Everyone was still asleep, a chorus of light snores filling the room, as Y/N tiptoed out and down the stairs to the kitchen. Just as she expected, Mila was sitting at the kitchen island with a mug of coffee in one hand and the other typing on her laptop, just like every other morning.

"Morning," Y/N chipped whilst sliding into the chair opposite her mum.

"You're late," Mila commented, not looking up from her laptop.

"By like two minutes."

"Still matters."

Before Y/N went to the UK, her and her mother would sit at the kitchen island everyday at precisely 7am- due to them both being early risers- and have their morning rendezvous. It was the same routine everyday: Mila in the west facing seat and Y/N in the east facing one, talking idly about this and that with two steaming cups in hand.

"Made you a peppermint tea," Milia said, and shifted another mug that was beside her across the table.

Y/N thanked her, picking it up and taking a tentative sip at the fresh tea. It slipped warmly down her throat.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, both knowing what they needed to talk about but neither wanting to say it first. Y/N ended up being the one to speak up. "So what's the deal with Sam?" she asked, peering over the rim of her mug at her mother, who finally stopped typing and looked up. She sighed.

"He's just unhappy you got up and left without warning," Mila explained and swiftly raised her hand to stop Y/N when she opened her mouth to reply. "He's being asshole I know, but he's also just worried. Said you didn't give him any warning that you were coming home-"

"I did!" Y/N cried. "I wrote a note in the presence of that twat of a girlfriend."

"You wrote the note in the presence of Ivy?" Mila interrupted, looking suddenly less sad and more alert.

"Yeah..."

"Ivy?"

"Yes."

"Y/N, please tell me I didn't raise you to be that thick."

"Mum-"

"Listen to yourself. Can't you see what Ivy must have done?"

Y/N stared at the marble top of the island, the events of two nights ago playing in her mind. "Do me a favour, don't come back again." Her mouth went dry. "Ivy... wait... she must have... no... fuck."

"Got rid of the note?" Mila questioned, and when her daughter nodded feebly she rolled her eyes. "No shit."

{Flashback to 2 nights ago- London, England}

Ivy played with a ringlet of her pristinely curled hair as she flipped aimlessly through Vogue, scowling at the models and claiming how much better she would look printed in each of the pages. She looked up at the surrounding living room and sighed, bored now that Y/N had left and she had no one to be pointlessly rude to. She tossed the magazine onto the coffee table, stood up and crossed over to the mirror on the far wall to engross in her own reflection. Turning her head left and right to check out the angles of her face, her eye caught a glimpse of something white on the nearby table. She picked it up; it was a letter...

Dad,

By the time you see this I'll probably be on a plan to LA. I'm there for 3 days. This was an instantaneous plan and you're asleep whilst I'm writing this so that's why I didn't tell you. Sorry.