(Hockey BxB) Whistle In The Wind

-𝐕𝐈-

╔══《"Couldn't really love you 》══╗
anymore, you've become my ceiling."

       Shit! Lucien cursed, failing for the third time to put his contact in his left eye. At this point, he had climbed on the vanity, pressing his face an inch away from the large mirror. His pointer finger was soaked with contact solution, the contact sliding off the slippery surface.

       "Ugh!" he groaned. Frustrated, he accepted defeat. Huffing, he placed the contact back into the capsule, and moved to grab the one already in his right eye out. Finally, he hopped off the counter and picked up his glasses. The glasses are square shaped, the corners slightly rounded, and made of tortoiseshell patterned translucent plastic.

       He got the same pair every year, since he barely wore them anymore.

       Slowly, he trudged out of the bathroom and downstairs, remembering his mom had woken him up for a reason. "Ma," he called out over music playing.

       It was Saturday which ultimately meant one thing: cleaning day. Every Saturday Luc's mom plays shitty music while dancing around the house cleaning. And somehow, every week, she involves her son.

       Whether it's yard work, scrubbing the toilet, or heavy labor, Lucien always had to contribute. It's like I'm a worker, except I'm not getting paid. I should ask for a higher allowance. He grinned at the genius idea, finally reaching the bottom of the carpeted steps.

       The music wafted through the house. Like Hansel and Gretel following a trail of breadcrumbs, Luc followed the sound of the music until it led him to the kitchen.

       "Maaa," he complained. The kitchen was always the worst. She pulled everything out of the fridge and reorganized all the cabinets. Rooms like the kitchen were only cleaned once a month. It's already been a month? Lucien internally whined.

       "There you are! I was thinking you probably fell back asleep!" his mom exclaimed, standing with her hands on her hips. She was a short woman, with shoulder length, wavy chocolate brown hair. She had knee pads on, indicating she planned on scrubbing the floors. "Ready to help with the kitchen today?" she smirked, patting her son's shoulder.

       Giving her a look of fake disgust, Lucien knew he had no choice but to agree. He had made the mistake of saying no to his mom before, a mistake he learned to regret. She was a kind woman, but fierce, and scary when she wanted to be.

       "Alright Ma, give me one minute," he obliged, grabbing his phone out from his pocket. Opening His and Aksel's messages, he sent his best friend a text.

       Lucien: Wanna come over today i need help cleaning and u know how mom gets on saturdays lmao

       Swiping out of Aksel's texts, his finger hovered over the next most recent text. Vál hadn't opened or replied to his text yet. He's probably still asleep. Lucien decided. He definitely doesn't have a crazy mom to wake him up early on the weekends. Trying not to dwell on Vál's parents, Lucien placed his phone back in the pocket of the hoodie he had thrown over his body on the way down the stairs.

       Luc didn't know much about Váli and Aksel's parents. He knew they were never around, only having met them less than three times, each time being brief glances when they arrived home. Shaking his head, as if to clear the thought from his mind, Lucien's attention was brought back to the kitchen.

       His mom was now holding a pair of knee pads out to her son. "Are you kidding me," he groaned, slouching over.

       "No, I'm not kidding," she grinned, "Come on, don't be shy," she teased while waving the pads in front of Lucien.