I don't know if you gonna like it or not but give it a try. And English isn't my first language .
Images used are not mine; they were sourced from Google. All credit goes to the original creators and copyright holders.
The hushed stillness of the room after Mr. Walton's abrupt departure hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the preceding tension. Brian, his face etched with a mixture of regret and resolve, turned to Kevin, his voice softened with genuine remorse.
"Kevin, I... I apologize for my alpha's harsh words. He speaks from a place of... concern, though his methods are often misguided."
Before Kevin could formulate a response, Brian was already reaching for his comm-device, his fingers swiftly dialing a familiar number.
"Luna," he began, his tone respectful and urgent, "I believe Kevin requires medical attention. His back... it's quite severe." He listened intently for a moment, nodding occasionally. "Yes, I will ensure he's comfortable until you arrive. Thank you, Luna."
A wave of anticipation, tinged with a nervous flutter, washed over Kevin. His mother. It had been months, perhaps years, since he'd seen her, truly seen her, without the carefully constructed walls of polite indifference she had erected between them. The thought of her seeing him in such a vulnerable state, wounded and hurting, stirred a complex mix of emotions within him.
The wait felt like an eternity, each tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway amplifying the silence.
Finally, the soft whoosh of the automated door announced her arrival. Mrs. Walton , Luna of Black Moon pack entered the room, her usual composed demeanor immediately dissolving into a mask of shock and distress as her eyes fell upon her son.
Brian stepped aside, allowing her to approach Kevin, who lay propped up on the cushions.
A gasp escaped her lips as she gently peeled away the remnants of his torn shirt, revealing the angry welts and bruises that crisscrossed his back.
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Her breath hitched, and a tremor ran through her hands as she reached out, her touch feather-light and hesitant at first. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the harsh reality of his injuries. She traced the swollen lines with a delicate finger, her face a canvas of pain and regret.
Kevin watched her, a strange sense of vindication blooming in his chest. The tears, the visible anguish on her face - it was a stark contrast to the cool detachment she had maintained for so long. In that moment, he felt a flicker of the connection they once shared, a fragile thread that had seemed irrevocably severed. She still cares, he thought, a bittersweet warmth spreading through him.
She just... hides it.
With a choked sob, Mrs. Walton retrieved a medical kit Brian had thoughtfully prepared. Her movements were swift and efficient, honed by years of caring for her family. As she carefully cleansed and treated his wounds, her silence was heavy with unspoken words. Kevin didn't winced , as the physical pain was overshadowed by the emotional weight of her presence, her touch.
Suddenly, as she applied a soothing balm to a particularly raw patch of skin, Mrs. Walton spoke, her voice thick with emotion. "Kevin," she said softly, her gaze meeting his, "I... I was so proud of you. For standing by David's decision. It took courage, real courage, to defy your dad like that. Even when you knew there would be consequences."
Her words resonated deeply within him. It was the first time she had acknowledged his actions, not with disapproval or disappointment, but with pride. A genuine smile touched his lips, a small, fragile thing that held a universe of meaning.
After tending to his injuries, Mrs. Walton didn't immediately retreat behind her usual wall of polite distance.
Instead, she settled beside him, her presence a comforting weight. She spoke to him in soft tones, asking about his well-being, about David, about things that felt real and important, not the superficial pleasantries they had exchanged in recent times. It was like stepping back into a forgotten past, a time when her presence was a source of solace and security.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Kevin felt truly seen by his mother. He allowed himself to bask in the warmth of her attention, the gentle concern in her eyes. The physical pain in his back seemed to recede into the background, replaced by a quiet sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time.
Hours passed in this tender space, the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. Mrs. Walton stayed by his side, offering sips of water, adjusting his pillows, her touch a silent reassurance. It was the first time she had stayed with him like this since he was a child, a stark reminder of the love that still existed beneath the surface of their strained relationship.
As the night deepened, Kevin's eyelids grew heavy. The exhaustion from the day's events, coupled with the soothing presence of his mother, lulled him towards sleep. Mrs. Walton watched him, her expression a mixture of tenderness and sorrow.
Just before he drifted off completely, he felt a soft touch on his forehead. He instinctively leaned into it, a primal longing for her affection surfacing from the depths of his being. A whisper, barely audible, brushed against his ear. "I'm sorry, Kevin," she murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I cannot protect you."
Then, as silently as she had come, she was gone. Kevin remained in the quiet room, the echo of her words and the lingering warmth of her touch the last vestiges of her presence. He drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, the weight of her unspoken apology and the poignant reality of her powerlessness settling upon his heart.
The brief respite of their reconnection, though precious, served as a stark reminder of the challenges that lay ahead, and the limitations even a mother's love faced in the complex web of their lives.
