Intertwined

Chapter 54: You Feel Like Home Part 1:

A/N: a friend got me thinking recently about the people that feel like home and I thought how much that is like the characters n this book. Writing this story is like one of my homes.

And you may have noticed that from the beginning of Intertwined until now, that my writing has changed. Aside, from the obvious change of first person (Char's perspective) to third person, which became necessary as more characters were added, my writing has changed the more I write.

Writing Intertwined has been a bit of a creative experiment for me, seeing what I could write, how I can create emotional situations, a whole world, develop characters and figure out how I like to interpret situations, emotions and reactions. It has given me more confidence in my writing to start working in some original stories and poetry.

thank you, as always, for being here.

TW: there are situations and descriptions of homophobia, panic attack, dissociation and domestic violence. If any of these topics distress you, you don't have to read. I don't want to harm anyone, and no great details have been given. Please take care and reach out to myself or local services if needed.

April 23rd 2025

Char arrived at work this morning with a smile. Mia had been spoiling her with extra attention over the last week and as much as she was still desperate to find out if they would be having a baby, she just couldn't help seeing the world a little brighter as she got ready and went to work. Not to mention, it was spring and the air was that little bit warmer, so you didn't need to protect you face from the stinging chill hiding in a gentle breeze.

The first parent arrived a few minutes after the brunette and Sorcha had finished setting up. The Irish woman had noticed her friend's cheerful manner. It wasn't hard to miss Charlotte singing softly as she tiptoed and bounced around the room.

'The girls at their dad's this week then, Charlie?' The brunette looked up to see Sorscha giving her a knowing smile and she couldn't help but blush, 'I'll take that as a yes then,' and the Irish woman laughed, just as a parent cleared her throat. 'Oh hello, Alison,' Charlotte scowled in Sorscha's direction, but she just shrugged as she got the first little boy his bowl of cereal.

'How is Dillon this morning?' Normally the brunette would have noticed the frown on the parents face and asked the question differently, maybe even let the Alison speak first but her chirpy demeanour had meant Charlotte missed all the cues for caution.

'Well, obviously you have not been paying attention to Dillon at all this week,' the brunette's eyes went wide and Sorscha attempted to make herself as small as possible, while listening intently, 'His father picked him up yesterday and said he had been playing with dolls. DOLLS!' Charlotte frowned and the parent continued, 'He can't be playing with dolls! He's four! That could lead to all kinds of things! He... He,' the parent stuttered and anger rose in Charlotte fearing what might come next. Dillon was a sweet boy. He had started at the nursery at the beginning of the year, and he was kind to the other students, always checking on another child if they were upset, playing kindly and gently. He was very smart and already starting to recognise letters and numbers, the brunette couldn't have imagined this was the way a conversation with the sweet little boys' mother was going to go. Alison finally found her words, 'He could turn out gay,' the mother whispered and covered her mouth as though divulging state secrets, 'Do you know how terrible that would be?'

Charlotte glanced at Sorscha who's lip looked as though it might be about to bleed from her biting it and then back at the mother, whose face was purple from anger. The brunette thought about her own girls and the baby that her and Mia were trying to have, a fierce, consuming protectiveness rose in her. Charlotte looked at the children now coming into the room, all different, all developing their own personalities that would change and grow thousands more times before they had figured out much about who they were. How these children were looking to the adults in their lives to give them cues and signs and guidance as to how to behave, 'Maybe you should ask my mother what it's like to have a gay child,' the woman looked confused for a moment and then scoffed.