A/N: ooh I can use this for something
Alexander made sure to check his eyes still weren't red and puffy before knocking on his parent's house. The Washingtons had always lived there, and Alexander liked that. It was always a familiar sight. The same feeling of warmth, and while the kitchen always smelled different from the food Martha was cooking, it somehow managed to feel the same as well. Whatever she cooked was made with love and anyone who ate a bite could taste it. Martha let him in, and today, the kitchen smelled like freshly baked cookies.
"Come, sit. Your father should be home soon. He said something about a meeting with one of his employees," Martha said, leading him and Philip to the couch. "Now, how are my favorite boys doing?" Philip climbed into her lap, giggling when she tickled his stomach.
"We're doing alright," Alexander lied, biting his lip. He always hated lying to Martha, but he didn't need pity right now.
Martha stared at him for a moment. "Well, that great. You sounded really stressed over the phone." He just nodded slowly. "Are you sure you're okay?" He nodded again.
"Yeah, yeah, why-why do you ask?"
"Your breathing kinda, um, like you're starting to hyperventilate and your eyes are all glossy." Alexander stayed silent, rubbing his knuckles. "Okay, if you don't want to talk about what happened, just say so. Please don't lie and say you're fine."
Slowly, he shifted towards her. "Can I have a hug?" he mumbled.
She gave him a sad smile, holding her son in her arms. "Of course you can, my handsome boy."
YOU ARE READING
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