Can you Feel my heart?

Crooked Young {Oliver}

It was cold outside. The wind was bitter, slapping at any skin it could reach with its icy hands. I pulled my jacket together around me, my teeth chattering. The wind cut straight through my jeans, laughing at the thin fabric. It was Thursday. Austin would be coming home tomorrow. He had told about the party, how he met the woman who juxtaposed his parents marriage. This world was a cruel place. An Ironic place. The universe seemed to be unraveling within it's self. I hadn't seen both of my parents at the same time. I always came home to a quiet house, a bottle of wine on the table. My mum was reclusive, always seeming to appear from thin air around dinner time, then she would disappear again. My father was there more, sulking through the house. It had been raining all week, the air grey and sullen. I opened the front door. My mum was sitting on her love seat, reading a book. She peered up at me. She seemed sunken. Her skin was dull, and her eyes were watery. I sat beside her. 

"How was school?" 

Her voice was still butter soft. 

"Nice. It would help if the school would turn their heaters on. I swear it was 30 degrees in there all day." 

She smiled. 

"I guess this cold is different than ours." 

The smile dropped. I grabbed her hand. 

"Mum, what's badgering you?" 

She folded her book closed, sighing. 

"Your father and I, just aren't what we used to be."

I looked at her. 

"Where do you go? Like when I get home?" 

"His study. Just to recollect myself." 

I squeezed her hand. 

"Mum, are you and dad divorcing?" 

She looked at me. 

"Oliver no. We would never do that to you." 

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I gave her a smile. I stood walking up to my room. The phone rang in the kitchen. My mom answered. 

"Oliver. Phone for you." 

I walked back down, grabbing it from her. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, I tried your cell, but I guess it's dead?" 

I smiled. 

"Yeah I'm sorry." 

"Oli." 

He sounded concerned. 

"Yes?" 

I was hesitant. He sighed. 

"My flight got cancelled. I'm not coming home until Monday." 

My smiled dropped. 

"Oh." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Not your fault." 

He said goodbye to me, and when he hung up, I stood there with the phone in my hand.