𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 - 𝙝. 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙪

𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙮

"y/n!" came the first call of my name.

groaning, i replied back. "what?"

...

a few seconds passed and no response.

"ugh," i threw my blankets off and made for the door, but not before noticing the ache in my legs, closer to my hips.

"mom?" i walked to my door, eyes still closed.

"y/n, come eat!"

"oh my god," i muttered quietly to myself.

"what did you say?"

how the hell did she not hear me yelling but she heard that.

"nothing!" i pulled on a sweater, hoping that the collar would cover the hickies on my neck.

padding softly, i went downstairs, with the slightest limp. the smell of breakfast wafted through the air, freshly cut up fruits sitting in a bowl and warm fluffy pancakes piled on a plate.

"morning," i mumbled and my words were followed by a yawn.

"morning," my mom placed a kiss on my forehead, "are you limping?"

i stopped in my tracks, "um, no? i mean, yes?"

"what happened?" my mom asked and sent me into a flurry to try to think up an excuse.

"i was..." i started, "i ran into my dresser. wait, i slept wrong and then ran into my dresser."

the excuse had too many holes in it and i knew my mom wouldn't believe it. but instead, she sighed.

"you're a dancer, you'd think you'd know better." my mom said, turning back around to pour her batter on the pan.

absentmindedly, i nodded in agreement.

then it struck me, hard, and nearly blew all the wind out of me.

she turned around, only slightly, to see my reaction.

"i was waiting for you to tell me, but it didn't seem like you would anytime soon." she said, sadness laced in her words, and i could only feel the guilt from when the lie first started resurface.

"mom, i-"

"no, don't apologize, y/n. i was the one who made it hard for you to come to me about this, i should've been more open and i should've considered that this is what you wanted to do."

the tears pricked at my eyes. what a great way to start the day.

"now, don't go cry on me," my mom pointed her spatula at me.

i got up and gave her a hug. "thank you so much. for everything."

she rubbed at my back with her unoccupied hand, "just promise to invite me to your next performance."

i pulled away, nodding vigorously.

"also, there's something for you in the entryway. it was dropped off this morning."

curious to see what it was, i headed over. sure enough, like my mom had said, there was a small basket of flowers on the entryway table.

they were gorgeous. red and pink roses arranged among red tulips and violets, small forget-me-nots sprinkled here and there. i don't know how i missed them when i walked by to get to the kitchen.

there was also a card resting against the basket. i picked it up to read it and noticed the small orange blossom flower pinched to the letter.