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THE AROMA OF FOOD TRAVELED FROM THE DINNING ROOM TO EVERY ROOM OF THE HOUSE. Turkey, potatoes, gravy, rolls, green beans, casseroles, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and much more lined the grand oak table sat at by three people. The white plates and gold silverware shined against the light illuminating off the chandelier and soft music echoed through out the (L/N) household.
Brining her fork up placing the scoop of potatoes in her mouth, (Y/N) listened to her father talk about his memories with her mother. Next to her was her boyfriend ,Corbyn, who sat in silence. Though it was Thanksgiving and a time of thanks, the household had a cloud of sadness on it. Just the year before on this day of holiday, (Y/N) wasn't sitting at home eating turkey and watching the game, instead, she was at the hospital holding her mothers cold hand.
(Y/N) said goodbye to her mother that day and since then she's never looked at Thanksgiving the same. It's supposed to be a day of thanks, but to her it was a day of death. Her father, (F/N), found a way to see the bright side of the day but she couldn't.
"The game should be starting in a about an hour, I'm looking quite forward to it!"
"It's gonna be a killer game." Corbyn commented with a wide toothy grin.
"I hope so, son." (F/N) nodded with a small smile. "I'm gonna go start on the dishes, please enjoy the rest of the food." He motioned to the large amount of food left before pushing his chair back and standing up. Picking up his plate and silverware, he turned and made his way to the kitchen.
Once out of sight, (Y/N) visibly let out a large breath placing her fork down. Corbyn noticed this and grabbed her hand in his. "It'll get better, I'm sure of it." He encouraged.
"You can't be sure about that." She responded looking up to meet his eyes.
"I'm just trying to help..." he mumbled.
"Please don't help me by giving me false hope and worthless promises." (Y/N) stated pulling her hand away and standing up.
The clothes she wore seems to tighten and her face flushed as she looked up at the picture of her mother smiling on the wall. Her hair matched (Y/N)'s and her brown eyes were full of hope with a precious smile on her rosey lips. (Y/N) always wondered how her mother could stay so positive, even when she laid sick in her hospital bed dying.
"She didn't deserve it."
Corbyn ran a hand through his hair and stood up leaving his plate of food. Adjusting his shirt walking to his girlfriend, he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist which she ignored. "I'm glad I got to know her before she left, she was an amazing woman." He mumbled pulling her body closer to his.
Leaning the side of her face against his chest, (Y/N) stared at the picture frowning. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed trying to push it away, but all it did was grow. Tears blurred her vision and she sniffled wrapping her arms around Corbyn's middle looking away not baring to see anymore.
"I miss her so much Corbs..." She sniffled letting out a cry not caring anymore.
"I know," He whispered rubbing his thumb over her arm and kissing the crown of her head. "And that's okay. It's a good thing."
All the (H/C) girl did was nod slightly at his words and snuggle further into his chest savoring his comfort. Even though her mother was gone, Corbyn was still there and he reminded her of that everyday. If (Y/N) had anything to be thankful for that Thanksgiving, it was getting the chance to meet him and have him be by her side.
