The Nanny // Faye Yoko AU

Chapter 30 Angles

Faye exhaled slowly, her fingers drumming lightly on the glass she was holding, the soft rhythm betraying the weight of her thoughts. "Mikey..." Faye began, her voice quieter, more vulnerable than Yoko had ever heard before. "I have many plans, but when it comes to Mikey..." She paused, something fragile slipping into her usually unshakable tone. "Perhaps it's better to call it a wish." Her eyes flickered up, meeting Yoko's with an intensity that made Yoko's breath hitch. "A hope, even," Faye admitted, placing her drink down on the counter with deliberate care, as if the weight of her confession had made it too heavy to hold.

There was a brief silence, but the air between them buzzed with unspoken emotions. Faye stepped closer, her movements measured, controlled. Yoko felt the heat of her presence before she even registered how close Faye had come. "I'll tell you," Faye murmured, her voice low and intimate, "and only you."

Yoko's heart pounded in her chest as Faye leaned in, her breath brushing against Yoko's ear, sending a shiver down her spine. Faye's voice was softer now, tinged with a rawness Yoko hadn't expected. "I want my daughter to be free."

Free. The word lingered in the air between them, echoing with an ache that Yoko could almost taste. She inhaled sharply, the proximity of Faye's body making it difficult to think straight. Her mind raced, but she managed to ask, "In what sense?"

Faye hesitated for a moment, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to say it aloud. But then, with a quiet exhale, she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "A goal that isn't this. A role model that isn't me." Her words hung heavy in the air, their faces just inches apart, the tension between them palpable. Yoko could feel the depth of Faye's inner turmoil, the battle between her love for Mikey and the legacy she carried.

Suddenly, as if the weight of the moment had become too much, Faye pulled away, the absence of her warmth almost jarring. She moved to the window, her gaze distant, looking out at the city below. "I don't want her to grow up with no choices," Faye said, her voice stronger now but still layered with emotion. "No other opportunities." Her shoulders tensed as if the very thought of it made her feel trapped.

Yoko watched her carefully, her own emotions swirling. Like you did? she thought, the unspoken question sitting heavily in her chest. But she didn't dare voice it. Instead, she observed the way Faye stood—so strong, yet so burdened by the weight of her past, of her choices.

Faye turned back to Yoko, her eyes glinting with something between determination and sadness. "Trouble is," Faye said, a small, rueful smile playing on her lips, "if I gave her the choice right now, she'd follow in my footsteps." She let out a breath, the faintest hint of a chuckle escaping her lips, though it was laced with melancholy. "She idolizes me," Faye added, her eyes softening when she spoke of Mikey, the fierce love she had for her daughter shining through her otherwise guarded expression.

"I also want her safe," Faye continued, her voice hardening with resolve as she returned to herself. But it was clear to Yoko now—beneath all the power and control, Faye was a mother who wanted more for her daughter than she ever had for herself.

As Yoko looked at Faye, standing there with a mixture of pride and quiet desperation, she couldn't help but feel her own heart tighten. She knew, now more than ever, how much was at stake for both of them.

Faye stood by the window, her silhouette bathed in the soft light spilling in from the city. "It's a conundrum," she murmured, her voice heavy with the weight of her dilemma. "How can I keep her close enough to protect but far enough to be free?"

Yoko, standing a few feet behind her, clenched her fists at the realization. Now who wants it both ways? she thought bitterly, recognizing the irony of Faye's words. "You can't," Yoko said, her tone firm but not unkind.