three step plan - fillie

12. what he hoped would end

finn

millie's fast asleep, propped on the pillows with her arms curled around her knees, clinging onto them. she looks in peace, not like how usually stressed and haggard she is. the purple bags under her eyes are still visible - sleepness nights care of romeo, i assume - but she still looks pretty. millie is undeniably pretty. no point in hiding that.

her head is awkwardly leaning on the pillow, which im sure will give her a stiff neck when she wakes up. i sigh before i scoot over to her and carry her up. her weight surprises me. she's very light. i didnt notice her thin frame because of her usual attire - ugly sweaters and overalls.

she stirs from sleep, making me stop abruptly from setting her down. for a moment, she stops stirring, making me set her down completely. but then her eyes flutter open as i slither my arms away from her, making my eyes go wide. "finn?" she says softly, her vpice deep from sleep. "what time is it? when did i fall asleep?" she asks as she sits up, craning her neck.

"its 3:53 am," i answer back. "we were talking but then you fell asleep." i point to the lays bag thats folded beside her. "you didnt even finish your chips."

she chuckles. "well," she huffs. "probably wouldnt cost a life?"

i laugh. "no, probably not."

"im sorry for sleeping on you," millie said, her eyes downcast. "i didnt mean to. im just.. tired - i dont even know why.." she trails on.

"we were talking about london," i say all of a sudden.

"oh?" she says, smiling. "yeah, i loved it there."

"sounds like a good place. wanna talk about it more on the way home?"

"what, now?" she says, her eyes wide.

"yup," i say before taking a pillow and a blanket, hugging it close to my chest before opening the side door and stuffing the things on the backseat.

she picks up the rest and does the same. as she shuts the door, she brings her nails to her lip before chewing on them. "wont your parents get mad?"

at the name of my parents i slow down from walking to the front seat.

i've been avoiding the topic all night.

"nah," i say nonchalantly. "also please stop biting on your nails. they'll get ugly, trust me."

she rolls her eyes but obeys and straps the seatbelt on. "i know they will. but its a mannerism."

"well, another thing to add in the list of things to know about millie," i snicker.

the sides of her mouth tug up.

;

as i drop her home, i drive back to my house. i park my moms suv in the garage, slowly and carefully so she doesnt hear. she wasnt aware that i borrowed it. probably even consider it as stealing.

i take my house keys from my pocket and on my toes twist the door open, praying silently that i wouldnt be heard by the terror that is my mom. that is, if she is a terror tonight.

"finn wolfhard," a cold voice says from behind me. i freeze, closing my eyes in frustration. well. so much for not getting caught.

"hi, mom."

"its fucking 4 am, you moron," she spits. "and did you take my car?!"

"mine had a flat tire," i say before i exhale.

she shakes her head before breathing out a sarcastic chuckle. "you really think youre living up to your father, huh," she says before snorting. "trying to look rebellious when youre not even close."

"im not trying to look rebellious."

"dont even get me started on a list proving so, boy." she barks before setting the empty cup of coffee down on the counter. "high school dropout," she says viciously. "stealing his mother's car coming back home at dawn," she continues. "and the cause of his own fathers death."

my fists clench, and my nails are digging into my palms. crescent moons that i know will appear on my skin again later.

"please, not today mom," my voice sounds hard, probably because my teeth are pressed hardly together, but theres this desperate plea which is impossible to hear.

"you do not tell me when i can point out the truth or when i cant!" she shouts.

"i didnt mean it like that - "

"such a scum for a boy," she seethes.

"im sorry -"

"an excuse for a human being - !"

"mom, did you take your pills.."

"a stupid boy who trails in the shadow of romeo beckham!"

i stop. just like that i stop. the care in my eyes stop, the concern i have in my heart yields.

"better have that beckham boy as my son," she grits.

"well he'd be lucky."

she scowls at my snatty response.

"take your medicine mom." i sound weary. "im not in the mood."

i dont even glance anymore back at her as i carry on my back all of the things she said, caused by her disorder or not, like a burden on my shoulders. its heavy, unrealistic. like weighing me down as i climb up the staircase up to my room, to spend another night thinking for when the day comes that all this - would end.

im sorry for the slow updates. school has been eating us up and i had to squeeze this between my homeworks. im sorry if its kinda crappy. leave some feedback, it would help :-)