(A/N: For those of you still reading this, I thank you so much for supporting this story! It's so fun to write, and I'm glad that you who are still reading this stick with the insane amount of chapters! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!)
I open my eyes, blinking the sleep that eludes me from perceiving accurately. Yawning, I sit up, stretching my arms again, and swaying my legs over the front of the bed after I cast the quilts off my body. Floundering out of my room and down the stairs, I fix myself some cereal, peeping over my shoulder when the door to mom's boudoir opens to a very fatigued mom.
"Good morning, mom. Did you...sleep well?" I gulp down the rest of my cereal, rinsing out the bowl, drying it, and then placing it back in the cupboard.
"I slept well, sweetheart." Her voice slurs, stimulating a signal to me that something is amiss.
"You don't look it or sound it, mom. Did something happen?" I suspect, stepping over to her, seeming wide awake at her tiredness. I hold my wrist to her forehead, but she feels fine. I take one sniff of her breath and shrivel when I smell beer, very powerful beer. "Were you drinking?"
"Noooo. I would neever." She simpers shrewdly, her actions fluid. I shake my head, not craving to know precisely how much brew she had and how sober she truly is.
"Well, as long as you don't drive you should be fine." I sigh, leaning away, half of me feeling like the mom in this condition.
Mom doesn't usually drink, and almost never gets drunk. Something must have happened, and she went to get drunk so she could feel good.
"As looong as I doon't drive." She titters, her voice shaking and garbling at the same time, making it arduous to render what she's stating. Sighing, I turn away, glancing over my shoulder. Mom is gone, but the front door is open, and the car keys are off the latch. Goggling at her, I bustle outside, watching helplessly as drunk mom backs out of the driveway, almost banging into our mailbox.
"Great. Just great. Mom's drunk, and now she's driving. I don't know how drunk, but I know really drunk. What should I do?" I mutter, gently biting on my fingertip, alarm replacing the frustration.
Note to self: When mom is drunk, she is a four-year-old. One who doesn't know how to drive... Cheeseweasles! Why can't four-year-olds learn how to drive!
Frowning, I choose to slip on a jacket since the temperature has plummeted since yesterday. Dashing as I pursue mom, I try to decipher where she's going before she gets there. Skidding to a standstill in front of Klein's house, I hesitate, but then turn and start sprinting again.
Klein doesn't need to get involved i---
"Skylar! Hey!"
(Klein's Perspective)
Inside my house, I pull on my coat, readying myself for an errand, I glance out the window, noticing Skylar sprinting at full throttle skid to a stop in front of my house. She stares for a moment, an eloquence of sheer dread sparking her gaze as she starts jogging again. I swing the door open, shouting out to her.
"Skylar! Hey! What's going on? Why are you running?" I meet her as she slides to another stop, her shifting to face me, gasping for breath.
"O-oh, um, my mom is...d-drunk and driving. I'm trying to catch her before the police can." She explains, conveying uncertainty and astonishment through me.
Skylar's mom? Drunk? Driving? I didn't expect that!
"I can help. Where's she going?" I let a serious frown creep on my face, and Skylar smiles gratefully.
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Klein(SAO)x Reader
FanfictionFighting isn't new for you since you're the youngest looking officer at your Police station. You never would have imagined being forced to put the many years of officer training and self-defense classes to use in a world so different from the one we...
