Desire C.B

37

TW: Talk of losing a parent, drug addiction, self harm, sexual content

Um.. 2k words of smut, sorry.

A/N: Leighton cries a lot in this chapter, just a warning. Don't view her as a cry baby. Please remember how stressful life is, and how hard news like this can be. You're not allowed to bully my character who is hurting lol

*Leighton's POV*

I felt run down. My body felt like if I took one wrong step, I would collapse. My eyes could barely stay open from how much I cried, and I felt like I was inches away from reaching the end of my rope. I don't know how much one person could take, but I had a feeling if I had anything else thrown at me, I wouldn't make it. It seemed like with every blow, my rope was getting shorter and shorter, and I could barely hang on. I was tired mentally, emotionally, and physically. I mean honestly, how much can one person take?

I slowly made my way to my parents room, knocking on the closed door before hesitantly opening it, my mom still in her bed, my dad nowhere to be found.

"Mom?" I whimpered, walking over towards her, my heart starting to race as my breathing became shallow.

I felt the familiar tightening in my chest, wanting so desperately to run out of there, go home, and restart. Maybe this would all have been a bad dream, but that thought was quickly crushed the moment she answered; "Hey sunshine" her voice soft, a very small smile on her face, an oxygen tube hooked up to her nose. 

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Imagery of Gemma as a newborn with an oxygen tank came to mind, making this visual even worse, knowing any moment I'd close my eyes, I'd remember seeing her like this, and not as the mom I used to know. The mom who was big smiles and laughs, letting me help her in the kitchen, or go grocery shopping with her... I carefully bent down to hug her, afraid that I'd break her if I squeezed too tight. 

I had so many questions, but I was afraid of the answers, so I stayed quiet, just holding her. Terrified that the minute I let go she'd disappear. 

Every movement felt like déjà vu; horrific memories flashing through my head, forcing my eyes to pop open, no longer wanting to visualize her in a hospital bed from before what we thought would be her lifelong successful surgery.

I wish I could go back to that day, and tell myself to bask in that feeling of hope. I was so scared that she was going to die in surgery... that I didn't appreciate that there was at least an option to hopefully cure her. 

"Leighton, it's okay" Mom reassured me, her hand rubbing my back, but it only made my tears fall at the feel of her touch.

"It's not okay! This isn't okay!" I exclaimed, wanting to push myself away from her, my eyes stinging from how much I've cried lately.

How could she say this was okay? She's dying! My mother is dying, and she's trying to tell me that it's okay?!

I didn't want to say goodbye. We had so much more life to live, together. Hell, my daughter doesn't even know her own grandmother, her namesake! She can't just leave us.

"Leighton" She sighed, but I shook my head, "You're dying mom" I squeaked, my voice starting to give out on me. "And you didn't tell me" I exhaled, not wanting to whine to my dying mother, yet hating how nonchalant she was being.

How in the world was any of this okay?!

"It's not that we didn't want to tell you" She started, tears starting to roll down my bright red puffy cheeks. "We just — I didn't want to worry you honey" She frowned, her hand rubbing my back, but I pulled away, my face scrunched up.