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This is your son on the telly, James Dean glasses perched on his nose laughter big on his face. Eyes twinkling like blue opals behind the glassy covers that hide traces of tears from the nights before. Dimples on his chin prominent, telling you that he's biting the inside of his cheeks; that the smile is anything but natural.
Your son in a nice clean cut black suit, spotless and impeccable just as you raised him to be. Hands fluttering as he watches his band mate talk, Liam you know, showing the telltale signs of a fast pacing beating heart that the tux hides. You know if you were to place your hand over his heart you'd feel his heart crying - no, sobbing.
This is your son standing tall on both legs, more of a metaphor than you'd like. His left leg never really having recovered from his falls as you know all too well that neither has he. Shoulders back yet looking so broken. Maybe no one but you can tell. Can't see the faint lines covering his delicate wrists.
This is your son and you saw him fall in love with a boy with long hair who really just doesn't care.
YOU ARE READING
put your lips close to mine | n.s
Fanfiction"Las Vegas?" "You wouldn't know, would you?"
