'dear mister president' barron trump x reader

Parting

●○•°¤☆*^•¤●○

Almost at the end of the long dark road  you are driving along you notice your home and move a little in your seat as if you are getting ready to leave your seat and this car, and barron.

The house you live in is a block of flats, several flats are in this building and you are not really proud of living there, but it was convenient.

You don't live with your parents anymore, unusual for a teenager, but you don't really mind. It's a living.

And No, your parents didn't die and also the relationship between them and you is more pleasant rather than strained, but everyone felt it was better if you became independent as early as possible and had a place of your own.

You also wanted to get away, no matter how much you liked them and you were shocked how easy it was to get them to agree to your plans.

Now you kind of regret going your own way but you wouldn't want to admit it and you also find it positive to have your own space and stuff.

Yet you don't like your present home, but you are very content with what you have. You alsways were, never expecting big things and materialism wasn't a thing to you, as much as  sumptuousness.

The flat you live in is small, but you have furnished it comfortably and are always happy to get there after a hard day and put your feet up. It is that small because otherwise you wouldn't be able to pay off the rent since you have a part-time job at the supermarket and go to school.

However, you find it a little strange that you don't lead the life that would be typical for your age and that you would rather be with your family than have to manage everything on your own, because, to be honest, you do like to make contact.

You like to meet friends whenever it is possible for you but then again you aren't that type of people person. You are the anti-social-social type of person. You wouldn't mind being alone but also hated when being too lonely, so you tried to get somewhere in the middle.

The car slows down and you see the yard where the car is now heading.

'We're already there'
are your thoughts and once again a strange feeling runs through you.

A feeling you can't describe, but you know that this time you don't want to go home, but you also don't know what you want to happen.

The car stops and so does your flow of thoughts. You look around, once through the entire vehicle, to the driver, over the expensive equipment, to Barron, who you only now notice is no longer sitting in his seat, but has apparently already left the car and you ask yourself why, before you hear the door on your side open.

You turn your body towards the door, which is now open, Barron having opened it for you.

You slowly get out of the car, confused by his action. The thought crosses your mind that you find it a little funny how he had opened the door for you, but you find it extremely polite.

He was brought up to be polite, is what you think to yourself, and suddenly this moment no longer feels so special to you and so you exhale in disappointment.

'Thank you'

Barron watches you get out of the car and you walk slowly away from the car.

Just enough to stand a few steps away from it to give you room.

'Not for this, it was really nice for me to have someone to talk to'.

Barron seems relieved, but you are confused.

'But-'
you stop your sentence, realising that it wouldn't really make sense to finish it, otherwise it would destroy this atmosphere, knowing full well that you've barely spoken to each other.

'Maybe he was just being polite? Or he doesn't really talk much in general and that was already a lot for him to talk about?'
Your thoughts circle, but you then decide to leave it at that, that you have put this statement in the room.

'Thank you for getting me home safely, after all it was a bit far and it's already dark'.

You find the current mood a little awkward, not knowing quite how to say goodbye, and so you stand there for a little while before turning slightly to walk towards the building.

Barron looking after you.