Through His Eyes

Through His Eyes [1]

{{Dedicated to @QueenMaleficent for writing the sweetest review ever about this story on her other account. Go check it out at @kissingunderwater!}}

CHAPTER ONE

           

Rhea was still shaken up about the day's events when she heard a jingle of keys followed by her parents' indistinct chatter.  Their voice drew closer as they made their way through the corridor and finally entered the living room where they found Rhea sprawled on the couch watching the ceiling while the TV supplied her with much needed background noise.

"Hey sweetie," her mother greeted her softly.

"Hey Mom, Dad," she acknowledged her parents' presence in the house, but made no attempt to get up from her place on the couch.  It wasn't like they weren't used to it by now, anyways.  Rhea was and always had been a couch potato through and through.

From the corner of her eye Rhea noticed his father set down grocery bags on the counter of the adjoined kitchen.  Their kitchen had black and white tiled walls, white overhead cabinets and a black and white patterned marble counter. 

Her mind drifted to a completely different kitchen, one with a pure white countertop, which would have led to her starting to freak out again if she had ever stopped freaking out.  Alas, she hadn't.  She'd been internally kicking, screaming and having anxiety attacks ever since she'd had the first snippet three hours ago.  She needed some answers, and she needed them now.

Seeing her best bet at getting answers concerning what exactly was happening to her was her parents, who had already gone through the same thing, Rhea decided to question them a little.

She got up from her place on the couch and went over to the kitchen with feline-like steps.

"So," she drew out the word as she leaned on her elbows that were propped on the kitchen counter, "How was work today?"  Pleasantries first, awkward inquiries later, she thought. 

"It was good," her mother responded.  She waited for one, two, three beats before she dropped her actual question that would surely drive her mom into a frenzy.

"So Mom, I wanted to ask – uh, I was wondering what it was like when you got your first snippet?"

Her mother let out a short and soft laugh.  "You always thought we'd made that up, why are you suddenly– oh."

Rhea quite impatiently watched realization dawn on her mother, as she'd expected it would.  There was no way she could have gotten away with pretending she was just casually asking about it.  As if her mother's horrified expression wasn't enough, her father, who was up until that point busy with packing out the groceries, also caught up to the situation and in quick strides came to stand behind his wife, setting his hands on her shoulders.

"You got your first snippet?" her father inquired, looking and sounding calmer and much more collected than his wife did in that instant.

"Yes," Rhea said, shrugging her shoulders and trying to sound nonchalant about it when in reality the prospect made her stomach churn.

"Wow, that's– you're really young," her mother said, running her hands erratically through her hair.

"I know, Mom," Rhea drawled, "Thanks for pointing that out."

"Look," her father said, "It's going to be okay.  I'd have loved your mother equally as much if I'd met her in high school.  Your age doesn't matter all that much when it comes to love."  It was lost on Rhea who her father was trying to convince with his words; her or her mother.