The Book of Imagines: The Mindless Volume

14 | Meeting Mother Dearest (Roc Royal)

Personal imagine for Brooklyn! I apologize for the long wait, but I hope you like this as much as I do.

This imagine is inspired by a true story. 

*Note: YLN = Your Last Name

*

"Baby," your boyfriend whined loudly, sending you one of his irresistable pouting faces. With his pink bottom lip folded into a plump pleat, Roc continually tightened his grip on your now bare waistline; the red tight-fitted tanktop you were once sporting now tossed aside, accompanied by his plain white wife beater. "I really want to meet her!"

"Babe, I told you," you growled, feeling vexation course through your veins. Lightly pushing Roc off of you, you yelled, "We can't see her, and that's final!"

This fine, sun-beat morning of June 24th marked the third week of Roc's nonstop complaining, and you had enough of it. For a full three weeks, your boyfriend, for whatever reason, could not relinquish his desire to meet your mother. Despite the numerous times you've attempted to change the subject, you've realized that you couldn't get out of this particular conversation so easily. For what Roc craved for, he seemingly got. Besides, it wasn't like you could escape from your own home; it was Roc's house, too.

Though you admit, it was quite a charm that for once in your twenty years of living, your boyfriend actually craved to meet the woman who conceived you. However, it wasn't so easy. You haven't seen your mother in months, and you were hoping to keep it that way. In spite of the fact that you could drive over to her home and greet her, you knew that along with a non-existant 'hello,' you'd escort all the memories, emotions, and unfinished conversations. And to be quite frank, you'd rather avoid yourself from those troubles.

Roc groaned, continuing to play with the hem of your satin cheekster panty. He always had a liking for toying with your laced underwear after a romantic session of making out, knowing that the garment would soon come off later in the future. You hope it'd be during your marriage, but considering Roc's early age of losing his virginity, you weren't so sure how far he'd keep his composure.

"Brooklyn," oh no, you thought, he never uses my real name! "I seriously won't leave you alone until you give me a valid reason why I can't meet your mom." As if on cue, Roc cornered you into one of the many free-walled spaces. And though the two of you were surrounded by both unopened and unenclosed boxes, his chocolate eyes were the only thing you seemed to focus on.

You sighed heavily, registering that all the snide jokes, witty comments, and excuses have been concluded. It wasn't that you didn't want to have your boyfriend's wish granted, you just didn't want to bring her up. In fact, you wanted to completely forget about your mother, and Roc's constant complaining wasn't benefiting you at all.

As you attemped to forge yet another lame excuse, your words stumbled upon the tranquil in his eyes. In them, you could see his desire, for all he wanted was to meet the woman responsible for his lover's life. He was also upset; you noticed the small tear drop form, regardless of the fact that Roc made it seem like his eyes were just itchy. It was on a rare occassion that you've seen Roc cry, and you've known your lover for a mere four years. The only time he's cried was when Bullet, his Pitbull  companion since he was a young infant, passed away, and his sorrowful moment lasted for less than three minutes.

Feeling exhausted, you nibbled on your bottom lip, a habit you've came across since you were a toddler. Within seconds, the emotion of guilt began overpowering you, and Roc's softening expression wasn't helping you whatsoever.