The life of an emotionally unstable gay who's married to milk a

A Place Called Home

Tobio felt numb, his head was empty, expression emotionless, lighter feeling cold in one hand as he looked at the photo that he held between his finger tips. His gaze was dull, lips pressed in a thin line as his brows furrowed, bangs casting a shadow over his eyes from where he stood.

He looked at the photo that he hadn't seen since that day.

It had been his third birthday, his first time having a cake, his first time feeling that endless love emitting from her, the first time she'd smiled at him so much, her words kind and voice soft.

It had been the first time that she hadn't scorned at him as she scowled, her face contorted as she frowned, glaring at him as he trembled where he stood, bottom lip quivering as he desperately tried to keep his head down, shaking slightly as he willed himself not to cry.

It had been the first time she hadn't yelled, the first time nothing was broken, the first time she hadn't thrown anything at her as she screamed, her mascara running down her face as sweat shone on her skin.

The first time her hair wasn't messy from her grabbing it as she let out ear-deafening screeches, ruthlessly calling Tobio names, spitting out venomous words at him, blaming him for her shortcomings. She acted like he was the reason. Tobio almost thought he was too.

But he wasn't, she just wasn't wanted. Wasn't loved. He didn't want her and she took to holding a child no older than 3 accountable, making him feel he wasn't wanted nor loved either.

Maybe it made her feel better, especially with how much he looked like the man who rejected her before she confessed. In the process she seemed to forget that Tobio was also her child.

Was. He wasn't anymore. He didn't want her either.

Still, it had been the first time he felt happy around her, felt as though he could smile and act as though he were a child for once. He felt safe for the first time, though it quickly changed.

So many firsts that also became lasts, the ones which involved her at least.

....

The wind was cold, brushing against Tobio's cheek, causing his pale cheeks to be adorned in a blushing pink as his rose turned red. Tobio sniffled, holding back a sneeze as he looked almost.

The snow was falling, dancing along with the wind as it coated streets and landed on rooftops. Chatter was bustling around them as they walked, venturing through the crowds, lights illuminated the streets. Despite it being midway, it was dark, the lights hanging from stores bringing brightness.

Still, despite the cold, Tobio felt warm. Warmer than he'd ever been as he glanced up, gaze travelling up from where his small hands were enveloped by slim fingers. He looked up at his mama's face, finding her already looking at him with an expression he'd become much too familiar with.

Alarm shot through Tobio, did he do something wrong?

Was it him giggling whenever they passed the cute doggies?

Was it him sending bright smiles to passersby who cooed over his cheeks?

Maybe it was him skipping as he walked, speeding his normal space up slightly to keep up with her.

Or could it have been him swinging their hands where they were joined.

Fear filled his being, running through his small body as he looked up at her afraid. Was he bad?

Though, as quickly as it came, the feeling of alarm also vanished when she sent him a soft smile, similar to the ones she'd been giving him so far. He wasn't bad. Tobio felt himself unconsciously relaxing, the dread quickly leaving his body as he sent her a smile of his own.