Chapter 19- Clear The Air

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I've decided to continue with the story but I'm experiencing serious writer's block ATM. Afterwards, I'm considering writing:

> More Thorki

> Wincest

> Bennoda

> Tony and Loki

> Bruce and Tony

> Or no ships, and just general drama (like age regression, kidnapping etc)

You're opinions or preferences mean the world to meeeee:

Leaning against her suitcase with a frown, her sunken blue eyes seek me from beneath lank brown hair.

I recognize her, faintly, but she's a lot thinner and weak-looking than I remember. Her jeans are too baggy, her shirt is fraying and her sneakers are faded and scuffed at the soles.

Guilt pierces my heart for ever leaving her. It's my fault she looks so... jaded.

So emotionless.

"Mum," Cate greets warmly, sashaying over to the ghastly woman at the terminal. Mother's cold eyes warm at the sight of her oldest child and only daughter. "It's so nice to see you. How has life been?"

"Wonderful," her voice is cracked and grating, which makes sense, as she's been smoking since we were children. I have the burn scars to prove it. "Your dad sends his love to you and your kids, Cate."

Her eyes flicker to mine with a nasty sneer and I feel my legs wobble.

Chris is beside me in a flash, a protective arm wound around my waist.

Her hateful sneer quickly dissolves into one of disgust as she stalks her way towards me.

"Who is this?" she barks and I flinch away. I don't want her to shout, I want her to hug me. I want her to have missed me. I want her to have changed.

"My director, mum," I whisper, slipping from his grasp, and I can feel the hurt radiating from my boyfriend. "He drove me here this morning, and he'll be staying with us, to drive me back again."

She eyes him critically and he takes a step back.

I hate that he takes warmth and safety with him.

"Fair enough," she sighs, clapping her hands impatiently. "Chop, chop servant boy. I wish to hold my grandson."

Chris balks immediately, his soft features twisting in horror. His eyes meet mine but there's nothing I can do about it. I don't want her near Jack either, but I'm certain she won't hurt him. And if she does, well...

"Are you retarded, you big lummox? Give me my bloody grandchild!" she squeaks. People crane their necks to see what all of the fuss is about. Chris rolls his eyes at her and holds his arms out. Jack tenses. He's never seen his grandmother before, and he doesn't like the way she speaks to Uncle Tom and Chris. "Thank you, servant boy. Take my bags." She all but throws her suitcase at my boyfriend and he stumbles under the weight.

He doesn't even glance at me before he's storming out of the airport and towards our car. I chase after him like the pathetic child I am.

"Chris? Chris, wait!"

I race ahead of him and spin around, my highlighted curls bouncing on my head. Chris is furious. His cheeks are ruddy with embarrassment and his long blonde hair is loose from its plait. He doesn't look into my eyes and I feel so hopeless. I'm a horrible, horrible person.

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