t h i r t e e n

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Closest persons I've found to what I imagine Sage to look like 😪😪. He's basically a mash-up of those two persons above.

Remember that he has curly white-blond hair and greenish brown eyes. Aaaand more American looking, but still Asian-like too ✨


* * *

Psychology says, you're not afraid to love;

You're afraid of not being loved back.

* * *


Working 5-8pm shifts every day for the past three days proved to be loads of fun for Sage, as every day was something new with his friends. He was so surprised to see Nyx waltz in with bizarre red contacts the other day, like it was the norm. None of the other workers said anything about it, and the four friends just laughed.

The weekend came too fast. One minute he was at Taste Buds, and the next he was telling Randall goodbye, and at that point in time, he was in the shower. Cecilia had basically jumped him with going to the Love's again, much to his aggravation. Couldn't she just go alone and leave Sage in peace?

No.

Apparently, she was 'shaping him up for the wider world, with a vast range of knowledge in etiquette and yadda yadda yadda'. The last time Sage checked, the world was a 'cold, dark place', so he just couldn't comprehend how visiting the same person every day would help in the equation.

A constant visitor is never welcomed.

At least this time, they — or Cecilia at the matter — were wearing casual clothes. And this time, they were going a lot earlier than the previous day. It was an outdoor function of some sort, or a get-together. Just the thought of being in an area crawling with people made Sage feel crawls of nervousness and other unflattering things, over his skin. But who was he to object? Cecilia said 'let's go', and as per usual, that was precisely what was going to happen.

For about the fifth time that day, Cecilia's head invaded the room, checking on the progress of her son. He was slipping his green hoodie over his head — his prize possession.

Cecilia was having none of it.

"No, no, donut. You will not be wearing that piece of clothing with me," she affirmed, stalking over to her son, whose eyes were wide in bewilderment. "Off."

"But mom!"

Cecilia crossed her arms, squinting at her son, letting out an exasperated sigh when she succeeded in giving him 'the look'. She walked away, but instead of leaving, she merely approached his closet, throwing the doors open, wide. Her fingers danced between various article of clothing, eyes keen on appraisal. Her face lit up when she laid eyes on a pink and white polka-dot sweater, and she turned to her son, whose insides were riveting with embarrassment.

Suppressing a groan, he took it, wordlessly, reluctantly throwing it over his head, hands first through the sleeves. Once upon a time, he used to put his head through first, but when Cecilia found out, she kindly showed him 'the proper way of doing it'. He spun to face her, and a wide smile lit up her face. She closed the distance between them, pulling him into her.

"Thank you, Donut. The Lord couldn't have given Gage and I a better son." she breathed as she held him, and Sage could feel his ears heating up, along with the unfathomable feeling of awkwardness, in all its glory. Tentatively, he looped his hands around her waist, hugging her back. A few seconds later, she pulled away, ensnaring each sides of his rose-coloured cheek between her index finger and thumb.

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