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Au: Regular
Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, "my mom sold me to ___" vibes but make it humourous
Word Count: 3.4k+
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Your bedroom was flat. The walls you had eagerly painted a citrus orange at thirteen seemed to have dulled to a warm gray. The stuffed fox toy on the corner of your bed seemed to stare down at the sheet with a morose expression instead of up like when you first got it.
It was quiet, so much so that breathing had turned into entertainment. Breath in, hold one, two, and out. No, too fast. Breath slower. Breath in one, two, three— too long. You could hear your heart in your ears. Blood rushed to the top of your head before falling rapidly. You could see your body sway with every beat; if you focused enough, you'd feel it too.
The room was still, lifeless, leaving you with your body and a mind that would rather escape to a world unknown. If it weren't for your body tethering you down, you were certain that you'd have been gone by now.
Breath in one, two, hold three, fou—
"I'm making chicken for dinner, just for you." Your mother's head peaked through your bedroom door.
You looked over your shoulder to see her eyes smiling at you, excited.
"Oh." Did you even like chicken? "Cool, thanks." What did you even like?
She blinked, quiet, before straining up and, in her happily chirping voice, said. "Okay then." And left.
It was quiet again, and you lost yourself when you returned to your original position. Your train of thought had fallen off track, and its passengers were nowhere to be seen. You sighed, sinking into your chair while staring at the cluttered surface of your desk.
Breathing felt like fighting against the weight of the world on your back.
It didn't take long before your mother called you to eat. She was on the phone, headset over her ears, as she responded to someone on the other end of the line while her hands were busy transferring food onto plates. You shuffled against the opposite side of the kitchen to avoid getting in her way.
She pointed to your plate before responding to the person on the phone. "He's doing that all by himself? I'm impressed. It's good that he's found something he enjoys doing."
Your lips tightened, practically hearing the comments she could make about you doing the opposite.
"How did that come about anyway? Oh, I see... of course, she deserves to rest finally, working for all those years. You know, I have a question that you could pass forward if you don't mind."
The conversation became harder to hear as she grabbed her plate and walked to her room.
While listening in to some of your mother's conversations had become a bit of a habit whenever she was talking a bit too loudly. The one she was having didn't have enough information to catch your interest to pay attention, so it went ignored in favour of eating your dinner and staring into the nothingness of your room.
