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〖 chapter twelve ⋆look in the mirror 〗
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He liked it better when his father was out of the house before he came down for breakfast. He was usually ready to go before Laurel, who got up earlier to shower and get ready, which meant he would go downstairs to eat what his mom made or get a banana to fill his appetite a bit.
He liked it better when it was his mother who went in a little after they left for school, giving him time to spend with her and his sister – if Laurel actually had time to eat breakfast with them and wasn't rushing to finish in the car. But that day, his mom was the first to leave and his dad was sitting at the kitchen counter drinking his coffee and looking at the news on his phone. Peacefully.
His parents didn't like leaving them at the house alone in the morning, right before school, due to the one time where he decided to skip and bring Laurel to see the Empire State Building. Really, it had only been once and it was because he had a Chemistry test that he hadn't studied for at all, so why not take a day off and spend time with his little sister? Apparently, his parents didn't see it in the same light as him, but whatever. It's fine.
But even though his father sat in the kitchen, he never actually ate breakfast. He had never seen his dad eat anything in the morning unless it was on the weekends while he peeled the banana and took a bite, looking down at his phone. It was uncomfortable and he wanted to go back to his room to kill the time until Laurel was ready, but he didn't budge from his place.
Moving would be a sign of weakness, he had already let himself have that last night as he stood in front of his mirror.
It had happened as it always did; he was tired of pretending – more than usual now – and he felt that pressure building again. He finished his shower, drying his hair a little with his towel as he stopped in front of his mirror and looked at himself. Usually, he avoided mirrors like the plague.
Because when he saw himself, he knew who he really was. He saw the person hiding beneath the mask who was clawing to get out but unable to do so. The emotions in his eyes that he tried to hide from everyone (they couldn't know the truth) and he crumbled slightly. It was a terrible thing to do, his heart tried to ruin everything that his brain had built up. The walls, the image...
But it was different last night. Because while most times he would see himself and be overcome with the overwhelming guilt of hiding and hatred for himself and everything around him, recalling every lie and everything he hid – all his guilt, all his pretending – and then he would walk away, ashamed of himself and trying to forget and play into his image more (maybe then he wouldn't hate himself), last night he didn't let himself be overrun by his sins.
