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💌
I hope you don’t mind
ft. mommy issues club
” 왜 자꾸만 널 가두려 하는 건지 “
–
“Hello, Riverdale mental health treatment centre. How can we help you?”
“Good evening. This is M/n L/n’s registered family.”
“Ah, ms. Y/n— good evening.”
“Yes… I was wondering if she was released last week as I got the email.”
“Let me check…. Ah, there’s her file. Mrs. L/n was released last Tuesday, yes. Are there any concerns?”
“..Would it be possible to know where she is currently located?”
“I apologize. Patients who are no longer connected with family or relatives are not permitted to be given more than approved information of each other. But she is currently under supervision of the hospital, so please don’t worry.”
“I see. Thank you then.”
“Have a nice day.”
The call was ended as Y/n stared at her screen until it turned dark and eventually off due to inactivity. Her unfocused gaze snapped out by a soft purr by her feet.
“sigh.. You’re the best, Kabuki.” She whispered and picked the feline up, as Kabuki purred loudly and shoved his face into hers. Y/n raised a brow and almost experimentally raised him up and down. “When did you get this fat?? I only feed you twice a day and like three treats.” The teacher raised a brow while scratching his chin. Kabuki only mrphed in response, white tipped tail flickering lazily from side to side.
“Scaramouche fed you, didn’t he.. I should make a calendar to show whether you were already fed or not before you turn into an obese kitty.” Her eyes softened slightly at the mention of her roommate, placing the cat on her lap. Kabuki looked up at her with glimmering navy blue eyes as though he noticed the slight drop in her demeanour. “Maybe you should talk some sense into him at night when the two of you are alone. Will you?” He purred, smearing his tiny forehead against her outstretched palm.
Y/n heaved a heavy breath as though there was a rock in her stomach, weighing down her entire being until it would melt into the ground. She peered emptily into the TV that was playing a random show she wasn’t actually paying attention to.
She couldn’t find any muses or inspiration to paint anymore. And objects she wanted to draw either looked too colourless or too bold in personality. If that was even how to describe things..
The teacher huffed in irritation before carefully standing up after placing Kabuki down on the couch. Her companion was too lazy to move out of his spot, but meowed in protest when she disappeared from his sight. Y/n soon came back outside with a light padded jacket, inattentively slinging a plain scarf over her neck. She snatched her phone resting on the edge of the couch and checked the battery. She looked down over at Kabuki. “I’m going off to the store to get some stuff. Be back soon~”
Almost slipping from the icy porch, Y/n pretended her stumble never happened and quickly got down to touch the ground. The neighborhood kids were outside exploring the snowy streets. She greeted Baizhu who was following the group that included Qiqi around since it was snowy and somewhat icy outside so nothing would happen with the kids. It would only take around five minutes by car, but she wanted to clear her mind a little.
As the frigid air entered her lungs, a warm breath was exhaled in return in a fleeting misty cloud that faded within seconds. A small shiver went down Y/n’s spine, causing her to shove her bare hands into her pocket. The snow made mushy crunching noises beneath her feet since most of the snow had already mostly been flattened by other people that had previously walked the sidewalks. A few centimetres of newer snow piled on cars by the streets, some people scraping the thin layer of icy snow off their windshields with a card. The familiar and ordinary sight helped ease her mind.
Y/n’s eyes lidded in half, hazed by thought. She trusted her body to find the store and left it on what she liked to call autopilot.
☆
The stinging, bittersweet smell of alcohol hit her senses. With a shirt that was stained in unknown things and plain sweatpants, she slung over the small dining table with a cigarette in hand. A thin trail of grayish smoke arose from the end, leaving behind a musky smell. The only light in the house was the spec of amberish glow that came from the cigarette that was agonizingly burning away.
It smelled like yellow. Not the warm yellow of bloomed flowers or the refreshing warmth of the sun that wisped through the window. But a sick, sticky kind of yellow that hangs around the back of your nose forever. Acrid and dead. The molten stench clung to her hair, pulling and tugging at her clothes.
Dark rings tugged at her eyes from the bottom of her skin, as if the entire world was trying to drag her body down into the ground to suck her up. Ghostly fingers barely hung onto the thin body of the cigarette, lifting it to her mouth to take a light exhale. Its smoke travelled through her lungs, burning up the insides. The coughs of her body calling out to her no longer stiffed on the smoke— smoothly letting it pass down her throat instead. The smell eventually climbed up to her nose, leaving a taste of burnt ashiness behind her tongue that was already bitter from the tang of cheap alcohol.
Letting a puff of fog exhale back out, Y/n sighed for the millionth time that day and slumped down even more if that was even possible.
The apartment was cluttered with trash bags and translucent dark green glass bottles, labels crinkled with age and threatening to fade off any day. A flying insect landed on a laid down beer can by the counter and flailed around, finding itself trapped in the small puddle of spilt liquid around it. Its tiny legs desperately wriggled around, the substance slowly soaking up its wings. The movements soon ceased.
The calendar on the wall hadn’t been flipped since.. She didn’t even know what day it was today. December? November? February? But it was night, she could tell that from the darkness outside. Or maybe it was still evening, the days had became shortened ever since it had begun to become colder. Dull h/c locks fell around her hair, unruly and disheveled from lack of care. There was a clock on the wall that had been showing the same time since around two weeks ago. 6 : 42 pm. Maybe it would’ve been better if time just froze like that.
Her head spun and thrummed with waves of agonizing pounds from lack of sleep. Eyelids begging to be shut down even for a moment, she blinked tiredly and forced them opened once more, her lashes fluttering like a sputtering moth taking its last flight towards the nonexistent light in the distance.
But once the world went completely blank, it would be filled with red and blue lights, ringing with ear splitting sirens and shouting instead. Her mind felt hazy with alcohol, unable to think properly. Without realizing, she managed to lift herself from her seat and dragged her feet towards the door.
For some reason, she didn’t bump into anyone in the elevator that hummed softly. Fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, the numbers kept changing on the panel above the buttons. Finally, the twelfth and final story. The door beeped open. Her legs led her towards the direction of the stairs. There was a man in a business suit, likely back from a late overtime flinched upon seeing her walking sluggishly down the halls. In his eyes, he saw a wobbling woman with disheveled and skin as if she was the dead and dazed eyes heading towards the stairs that led to the rooftop of the complex. The man quickly speedwalked to the other side of the hall.
Y/n pushed the door open as it clicked shut behind her figure. Her bare feet with mismatched slippers echoed in the empty concrete staircase as she slowly made her way upstairs. After what seemed like forever, another door stood in her path.
A puff of cold wind slapped her face the moment she opened the door. The woman stood there for a moment, unfocused. Closing the door again, she walked straight on.
White flakes nestled themselves in her hair, soon melting upon contact with her. Cold fragments gently kissed her face, peppering her freezing skin with even colder touches. But it didn’t feel that uncomfortable.
A hand filled with halfway closed glass cuts shakily reached out, reaching her palm out to cup the snow that soon melted on her touch.
☆
Her hand reached upwards, as a small flake of snow landed on her fingertip. It melted as soon as it was there. What a shame. Such beauty, gone the moment it touches anything slightly warmer than itself. Born to be eternally cold, only to have a taste of the welcoming warmth that would momentarily kill it.
Y/n shook her head and clasped her rosy cheeks between her hands to wake up from the daydream. Stepping into the store, she didn’t bother grabbing a basket and began to stroll around. It wasn’t as crowded as she had expected considering it was after school, but there were still handfuls of people around. Let’s see.. Bananas so green they could cast as Shrek’s children, suspicious looking Buelle fruits on an even more suspicious discount, and a teenage part time awkwardly stocking the lady’s undergarment section. He was a boy who looked to be around sixteen, and looked like he wanted to evaporate into the air. Poor guy.
The bananas were too of the same colour to paint. The flowers, which she usually loved, looked particularly colourless today. How strange. There was no one interesting enough to use as inspiration.
Art block can burn in hell until it became a crispy black ash that she would put into a urn and throw into a river.
Y/n wandered around the supermarket, occasionally looking through the clothing racks and trying out free samples of crackers that tasted like air and flour. Lemon squeezes, cutting boards, a package of purple glitter, a water bottle with a missing cap, and someone’s drink that they left on an isle. Everything looked so… Uninteresting. This was getting increasingly frustrating.
While munching on some kind of cereal sample she took from a sample station, the teacher aimlessly walked around the book section. Cooking for beginners, a romance book with a cringey cover of a werewolf man that had an eight pack and some petite looking ginger lady… A children’s storybook and
A guide on how to get along your teen! Ft. Psychiatrist _______
She snorted softly while picking the cover up. Maybe she could really use a guidance on how to talk to a certain teenager in her own home who wouldn’t come down from his room.
Oh right. The list Miko gave her a few weeks ago now…
….All the lists were checked off. And Y/n still hadn’t figured it out. What did him knowing all of her schedule or his very noticeable glances towards her direction when talking with Cyno have to do with his depression phase??
Men are frustrating.
In the end, the teacher grabbed another pink trash bag for her and her coworkers classroom and headed to the self checkout. Waiting in line, she whipped her phone out and saw a single text from a familiar contact.
Scar à moo cheese 🧀
–
Scar à moo cheese 🧀
where are you.
read 4 : 23 pm
You
oh em jesus look at who
finally decided to talk to
his beautiful roommate
after weeks ⁉️⁉️
read 4 : 23 pm
Scar à moo cheese 🧀
stfu
where are you
read 4 : 24 pm
You
@ the grocery store to
buy some stuff
do you need anything
delivered
–
Honestly, what did she expect from him. Y/n closed her phone and placed the device in her pocket, noticing an empty checkout machine available now. Since she was at the front of the line, she headed over to the area.
There was only one item that needed to be checked out, so it wasn’t that much of a hassle. The beep sounded as she scanned it, and the receipt rolled out from the printout machine. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the lady next to her squinting her eyes as she stared at the checkout screen.
“Excuse me miss.” Y/n hummed and turned around. “Could you please show me how to make my payment? I haven’t used a self checkout in a while, so I’m a bit lost.” She smiled and nodded. “Of course. Are you using cash or card?” “Cash.”
Y/n pointed to the arrow button at the bottom of the screen and explained her to choose her payment method after clicking on the button, and the lady nodded on. She didn’t know what, but the woman seemed… Familiar? Brushing it off as a coincidence since the two of them both seemed to be of the same ethnicity, Y/n watched as the woman placed her bill onto the machine.
“Thank you miss. I was about to stand there for a good ten minutes.” The lady thanked. “No problem!” Somehow, they both hadn’t met eye to eye through their entire interaction. Well, there wasn’t really much requirement to do so since they were both staring at the self checkout screen. But for the first time in their interaction, their eyes contacted.
Simultaneously, both eyes widened to the point they may just pop out. Two e/c irises met one another, terrifyingly familiar yet stranger-like. The items the woman was holding in her hand dropped from her hand going weak.
“Y… Y/n..?”
Her feet froze in place. In fact, the entire world froze. Vision blurring, flashes of scenes buzzed her mind like a broken record tape sputtering out bits and clips of a movie. Her h/c hair draped over her face, covering her panicked gaze that was flickering from one floor tile to another. A hand reached out to her. She was close to throwing up.
Y/n took a stumbled step backwards, then another. As if reality finally hit her, she whipped back and dashed out of the store in a speed she didn’t even know she could run in. A slight shout came from behind her, which was ignored desperately. The wind slapped against her face and ran through her hair, yet she felt nothing except for the void punched through her stomach.
Despite being alone now, her mind kept imagining footsteps behind her— just at her ankles, threatening to catch up anytime soon.
☆
Scaramouche fixed his gaze on the unagi being grilled on the pan before grabbing his chopsticks and picking the pieces of meat off, placing it on the plate next to the stove. He felt two paws massaging his leg from below, another pitiful meow soon following. “No, you fatass. You get fed by two different people and snacks all day along, don’t act like we starved you for days.” An even louder meow came as his response. His indigo eyes rolled to the back of his head before he ripped a tiny piece.
“….Just this once.” He crouched down and offered the piece of unagi in his hand. Kabuki devoured the piece happily, almost biting his hand in the process. Scaramouche stood back up and grabbed the oil-covered pan and placed it in the sink, watching as white steam arose once he turned on the tap to pour water into the once burning surface. He blinked back to consciousness upon seeing the water in the pan overflowing in the sink.
Just as he was about to cut up strips of dried seaweed to top off the Shimi Chazuke, something thumped against the front floor. Kabuki eagerly meowed and trotted over to the door, pawing at the entrance. Scaramouche raised a brow. Did Y/n order something online? It sounded pretty heavy for it to be a packaging. He headed over to where the feline was scratching at the door, unlocking the metal nub and opening it. His eyes widened at the unexpected sight.
The first thing he saw beneath him was the top of a h/c haired head instead of the square brown box he was expecting. Y/n was crouched so low to the ground she was practically lying face first on the porch. Kunikuzushi hurriedly picked her up and brought her inside, assuming she got hurt somewhere. But strangely, he didn’t see or smell any blood on her, nor did she looked scathed anywhere. “The hell happened to you..?”
He reached his hand out to check her face, which was replied by a flinch and his roommate scooting away from him until she hit the wall. Upon figuring there was nowhere else to back into, she sat and buried her face into her hands that clawed at her head. Kabuki tilted his head and stood at Scaramouche’s ankle, staring curiously at his other owner.
“Y/n.” Scaramouche sat down on his knees, facing her but making no moves towards where she was. She was shivering like a leaf, fingers twitching every few seconds. He opened his mouth to say something, but he held his breath to keep the words from leaving.
She covered it well. But he always noticed the particular way her eyes lidded ever so slightly with well-masked sorrow from the corner of his eyes after casting out another set of spikes— his words, to separated himself further. How she would stand in silence for a microscopic moment whenever she was actually hurt before smiling cheekily as if it had never happened. In conclusion, his words would help as much as offering a cup of water to a drowning person.
Kunikuzushi was stumped on what to do. His mind did jumps back and forth between his options, neither of them having his full agreement.
Tight lipped, Scaramouche swallowed down a thick breath along with his pride.
Y/n froze on spot once more. Something was covering her. At first, she attempted to flail out— feeling suffocated by the grasp. But her body had gone limp, and didn’t have a choice other than to accept it. It felt like… A blanket. With arms?
“If you say a single word I’m going to feed you rat poison in your sleep.”
A voice hissed nearby her ear. Not that it sounded serious. It took the teacher a moment to realize that it was none other than her roommate who was the blanket she felt. His arms wrapped loosely around her back, burying her face in the crook of his neck so their eyes wouldn’t awkwardly meet. She tried to keep her eyes open, but they soon closed after feeling puffy with tears.
Translation of his words : what happened? Are you okay?
Kabuki joined in on the hug, managing to squeeze through the small space between them by their legs. A soft purr of came from him, content with warmth coming from both sides.
“Tch. Such high maintenance.” He muttered under his breath before standing up with her still in his arms.
☆
It had been almost an hour since Y/n came back home out of breath and looking like she came straight out from a horror movie filming set. Scaramouche had been sitting in silence beside her for the past hour, staring at the steam that arose from the coffee in the mugs that ceased a few minutes ago as the drinks cooled down. No words were shared between them, both for different reasons.
Kunikuzushi kept his mouth shut in the meantime until she felt the need to talk, knowing he wasn’t one for encouraging nor gentle words like she could. He didn’t ask questions or commented. Unable to tell if the silence was choking or calming, he simply sat there— devoid of movement other than the faint rise and falling of his chest from breathing and blinking.
“…Sorry about that—”
“Fuck you.”
Y/n blinked, taken aback by the quick reply that cut her off. When she looked up from her hands, a pair of navy eyes peered into hers with an unimpressed look.
“Hah….” He sighed. “The first thing you have to say to me is that you’re sorry?” “I mean.. Considering I kind of broke down on the front door without saying anything and just crying on the ground.” She shrugged with a thoughtless expression. Scaramouche nearly slapped his forehead. Hundreds of words he wanted to slap even harder into her mind.
She should be the one flipping him off. He had done nothing but ignore and leech off of her when she tried so hard to figure out what she did wrong. Soaking in the drops of attention like a crispy and dry sponge that didn’t have any left to squeeze out. It wouldn’t have been unreasonable for her to just kick him out at this point.
Scaramouche tapped his index on his thigh for a moment, and scoffed frustratedly. The words bubbled in his head, but wouldn’t come out his mouth.
“You’re hopeless.” He muttered like a tired parent. “But seriously. What happened?” Maybe he should’ve waited a little longer judging from Y/n’s eyes that darkened at his question. The indigo haired male raised a brow. “Whatever. You don’t have to tell me—”
“I met my.. Mother.”
“…Hah?”
“At the store.”
Scaramouche didn’t respond, cogs turning in his head to connect to all the scattered pieces of information. Her antsy behaviour, down mood, to the paranoid look in her eyes the past few days— everything connected to one another now.
To be fair, if he wasn’t cooped up in his thoughts and bothered to dig around he could’ve easily found out what was wrong within less than a day. He remembered vaguely when she first came to the highschool, Yae— or was it Ei? Either way, one of them invited her for dinner after she helped her new neighbours move in. After going upstairs, he eavesdropped from above of their conversation. Back then, he didn’t think much of it and kept minding his own business.
Nonetheless, why did he feel different now? The indefinite burning in his stomach that was slowly growing like a spec of glowing ash being fed fuel didn’t feel all that foreign. But it was an alien feeling to feel this for anyone other than himself.
“Did she do anything.” That sounded more like a demand. Y/n shook her head, finally reaching over to the cooled mug of caffeine awkwardly. During that short moment, her eyes drifted to his knuckles that was somehow even whiter than they normally were. His hand was fisted into a tight ball as it was trying to dig into itself, the joints of his slender fingers whitened due to lack of circulation. Now thinking of it, he was as pale as whitewashed pictures of kpop idols.. The world was unfair when it came to packaging people in their faces.
“Did you two speak?” At the second question, she nodded. Scaramouche debated on what to say, filtering through his words before speaking. “..Think for once in your life, L/n. Who has the upper hand— a psych ward patient that just got released, or a person with a well respected occupation and a stable job?” He inquired. His company went dumbstruck at those words.
Was he….. Trying to comfort her?
“Before you go smiles and rainbows again.” He dismissed the opening of her mouth before she could utter anything. Both of their irises faced one another, left vulnerable and exposed.
“It’s not a crime to like— not be okay. No one has the right to say anything just because you’re not jumping up and down every single fucking day.” Kunikuzushi crossed his arms. “Just… Don’t be happy every once in a while if you don’t feel like it.” There. He said it. Was it in the most grandest and descriptive, or comforting way of saying it? Absolutely not. But he said it. The words he meant to say ever since he had begun to see her up from close.
Y/n dumbfoundedly stared at him as if he just spoke a foreign language. He averted his gaze, realizing what he said with his own words. Her eyes vibrated back and forth for a few seconds, the sentences slowly sinking in. Words no one bothered to tell her until now.
She had wanted to hear these words from someone, anyone. It was a shame people hated change in anything. Including the familiar behaviour from the people around themselves. If someone was acting not like themselves, everyone immediately assumes that something is off.
But what is acting like yourself, really?
It’s easier to imagine people like a many faced dice. Except, some faces are larger than the other and more likely to roll onto. But doesn’t mean the dice doesn’t have any other sides it could possibly show that day. Even should it land on a side that didn’t often roll onto, it was still the same dice at the end of the day. However, the problem is that many people are immature and simply can’t accept it when the dice rolls onto an unfamiliar face.
Something slid down her cheek. Scaramouche’s eyes widened, quickly rethinking back to the words to check if he said something useless again. Closing her eyes, she smiled despite the salty liquids finally being released from the prison of her eyes.
“Then.. I hope you don’t mind.”
This time, she could mean the smile towards someone else— from the bottom of her heart.
——
A/n
Btw this isn’t the angst i was talking about if anyone was wondering (im not that nice) 🙄 this is fluff in its greenest form
Its mid nov and still not snowing in canada this is unbelievable ‼️ also I hope this chap wasn’t that cringe bc i debated for like a three days before publishing it
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