platonic, 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞

twenty-five

mother kunis

mother
hey my darling
i cant express how sorry i am
ive been terrible
just know that i dont care about
anything that appears in the news
i saw the article and im actually so
happy you left without your father
dont feel that you need to reply to this
but please call me whenever you want to
im so sorry

cleopatra hassan

cleopatra
Y/N,I believe I told you to stay out of trouble and avoid a public stir, so why am I seeing a Hollywood Fix article about your constant relocation and about how you RAN through Heathrow and away from your father.

y/n
oops

cleopatra
OOPS?
You are ruining your reputation along with your families

y/n
life isn't all about reputation

cleopatra
It is when my name is getting dragged through the mud!

y/n
how

cleopatra
It just is.
Your mother is highly upset by this

y/n
i disagree

cleopatra
Oh yes? And why's that?

y/n
because she messaged me and said that she doesn't care about the article or about the fact i didn't go home with sam u dinlo. in fact she said that she's happy im not staying with him

cleopatra
Is that so? Well I'm not happy.

y/n
ok?

cleopatra
Don't be rude

y/n
i'm the rude one? k

cleopatra
I will attempt to flatten out this stir
but you have to stay out of the public eye

y/n
cool

cleopatra
I'm very disappointed

y/n
👍

It was pitch black outside as Y/N sat in one of only three chairs around the simply, circular table, complete with scratches and patches of worn wood from years of dinners, lunches and breakfasts. Fiona had not changed the table since her and Y/N's grandfather had moved in, freshly turned 20 and fully of excitement for their long future together. It had soldiered through birthdays, Christmases, anniversaries, the addition of a rampaging baby, the terrors of a toddler, the moodiness of a teenager, and finally, the incorporation of a grandchild. It had had drinks spilled on it, food splattered on it, crockery broken on it, and tears wept on it.

The kitchen seen it all: love and arguments, celebrations and sadness, happiness and anger. There were still faint lines on the walls where both a younger Y/N and her father had drawn along them; Fiona had never had the heart to fully paint over the endearing scribbles. There were terrible paintings by 3-10 year old Y/N, and endless pictures of herself and her father adorning the walls and kitchen counter. There was a picture of Y/N alongside a happily married Sam and Mila, which Y/N had to flatten on its front as her heart gave a lurch every time she looked at it. Freshly picked, seasonal flowers were placed in careful arrangements, which brightened up the small kitchen space considerably, and unlit, half-burnt candles were dotted around the room.