Anyas POV
I wake up in the morning, and Timothèes laying diagonally on the bed, and I'm practically falling off.
"Timothèe!" I hiss. He does nothing but groans. I get up and move his legs so that he's laying vertically again, and this time he wakes up.
"What the fuck, Anya?" He yawns.
"You are the worst to sleep with," I chuckle. "Always leaving me on the edge of the bed."
"I'm sorry, baby." He smiles with his eyes close and wraps his arm around me.
I look at his sleeping face, his eyes still closed. I lean up and kiss him on the lips. He smiles and kisses me back.
"Get up." I whisper.
"No."
"Get up." I repeat, and shrug out of his grasp. He groans and opens his eyes. I put on my glasses and and pull on Timothèes sweatpants. He gets up as I walk out as I head to the bathroom.
I take my toothbrush and start brushing my teeth. He walks in behind me and stands behind me, also starting to brush his teeth. We lock eyes in the mirror and I smile with the toothbrush in my mouth.
When I'm done, I spit into the sink and rinse my mouth with mouthwash. I sit on the toilet, waiting for Timothèe.
When he's done, he looks at me.
"I think we should go visit your mom today." He says. I immediately get irritated and cross my arms.
"No, no. Stop. I'm not letting you leave," He holds his hands out. "But we should let her know what happened. Maybe you can have her in your life again."
The prospect of having my mom in my life doesn't scare me as much anymore, with all that happened in the past couple weeks. All I know is, I'm not taking any shit from her.
"Fine." I sigh and move past him to get out to the kitchen. "I should probably talk to my boss and counselor and things too, huh?"
"Yeah." He replies behind me.
I don't want to talk about anything. I'm going to tell these people what happened and that's it. If they try and offer guidance or help, I'm done.
"Avery spent the night, right?" I turn around.
"Yeah, why?"
"We should wake them up." I smirk. He chuckles.
"Let's do it." Timothèe creeps in front of me down the hallway to Adams room. He presses his ear against the door.
"No moaning." He mouths and I giggle. Suddenly, he opens the door fast and suddenly.
"MPD!" He shouts. "Hands where I can fucking see em!"
Adam shouts and gets up violently, pulling a gun out and pointing it at us.
"Holy shit, calm down man." Timothèe holds his hands up. Avery is under the blankets completely. I start laughing my ass off. Adam doesn't think it's that funny.
"Fuck you," Adam drops the gun with a thud and runs his hands through his hair, collapsing back on the bed.
"Get up, Ave." He rubs her shoulders over the blanket. Avery creeps out from under the blankets and looks at us.
"You guys suck." She furrows her eyebrows. Even after being plastered and her make up being fucked up, she still looks decent in the morning.
Timothèe puts his hand on my arms and leads me away from their room, closing the door.
"Let's get ready to go to your moms." He urges.
"Why now?" I snap. Every time he brings up my mom it feels like he's trying to get rid of me, and it pisses me off. He couldn't possibly, not now. Not after what we have been through.
"Because if we get it done early, we can do something today." He gives me a small smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. He walks away from me and starts to fix himself a cup of old coffee, chewing on his cheek in the process. I stand and cross my arms.
"What's wrong?" I ask. He looks up at me like he doesn't understand my question.
"Nothing, I just don't know how I'm going to control myself if your mom starts being disrespectful." He shakes his head.
"I'll be handling it. You don't have to do or say anything." I reply gently. He shrugs.
"Well, we can go when you finish your coffee." I tell him.
"You're not gonna get dressed?"
"No," I pause. "There's literally not need for me too."
He holds his hands up defensively, his cup of coffee almost spilling. I sit down on the couch and start to feel a sense of dread creep over. I take a deep breath and it stifles it, but I know this feeling isn't going away. I sigh.
Once he finishes his coffee, we head out. It's a semi cloudy day outside which seems to match my mood and make it worse.
I don't say anything in the car.
"What's wrong?" Timothèe asks. I shrug. I've already explained it to him. I can't get it out of my head. Nothing makes it better except smoking and drinking and that's not good. I refuse to pick up the nasty fucking habit. I look over at him and he's chewing the inside of his cheek, which is a nervous and stressed habit of his that I know all too well.
I expect to feel nervous or scared as we near my house, but I feel nothing. That woman can put no fear in me anymore. We're going to get in and deal with this like adults, or I will say goodbye.
When we pull up to the house, I start to get out of the car and Timothèe puts his hand on my shoulder.
"You good?" He asks. I shrug him off.
"Yea." I open the car door and tuck my hair behind my ear, walking towards the front door. Timothèe walks behind me and stands beside me at the door. I knock on it loudly, and we wait.
Not long after, my mom opens the door. Her face holds a look of triumph, and I already know this isn't going to go well, but I don't give a fuck.
"Well, come in." She sighs and steps aside. Timothèe and I walk in and sit down on the couch. She closes the door and joins us.
"Look at you, Lilianya!" She exclaims. "You look like a fucking crackhead already."
I clench my jaw and chuckle. "First of all, I didn't come here for you to comment on shit. There's a lot you don't know, and you don't deserve to know. Timothèe said that I should try and get you back into my life," I pause. "If you don't want that, that's fine. I'm moving on with mine with or without you in it."
She looks at me with her eyebrows furrowed, discerning.
"What is it? You pregnant?" She waves her hand in the air. Okay. I've already had enough of this bullshit.
I pull a piece of paper out of the notebook on the table and write down our address.
"Let's go." I tell Timothèe.
"Fuckin ridiculous." He mutters as we leave the house. I get in the car and slam the door. He also gets in.
"Stupid bitch." I say.
"If only she knew." Timothèe replies as he drives off.
