Blinding Lights

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"Finn! Honey!"

Mary's thrilling voice can't be contained as she sees her son standing at their entrance door. She swears he never stops growing up; he is about 6'1 tall now and with more defined muscles, thanks to his usual jogging routine and some basic training.

His parents haven't seen him for a few months, and they're just glad he is back for a few days before he starts to film his new movie: Stranger Things.

"Hi, mama." He smiles shyly, hugging her and giving her a light peck on her forehead, "You look beautiful."

"Look at my baby." She grins, cupping his freckles face, "Oh my, your cheeks, Finn. You seem perished."

"Stop treating me like a child." He chuckles, as his dad approaches both of them, "I am fine."

"Oh, would you look at that! A stranger!" Eric says in amusement, going in for a fast embrace that Finn accepted right away.

"Hi, dad." He smiles.

Finn feels comfortable in his parents' arms; he knows they are the only few people who are always's going to be there for him and that accept him for who he is. With them, there was no need of drugs to feel better. It was just easy and simple staying around them.

"How was the traveling? Are you hungry?" Mary asks, as she helps him remove his long green parka.

"Everything went fine. I just feel a little bit tired!" He looks around, trying to spot the person he needed to see the most."

"And is Nick already here?" This is the first thing he questions, as his father is holding his traveling bag for him.

"Yes, he is upstairs! Go on, greet him. Dinner will be here in thirty minutes." Eric points at the first floor, as he closes the door behind them.

Finn looks around; it has been quite some time since he has stepped a foot into his childhood house. Probably, for his mom's birthday or some festivities he doesn't even remember.

But the fine smell of sandal, and the cozy feeling of being home is what he needs to feel happy. He finally finds his old pieces of himself in there; there are the same framed pictures of his family hanging in and there on the wooden furniture and walls, and the usual mess on the kitchen's table.

They have never been that tidy, in all honesty. Bags from groceries stores were spread across the kitchen, and packs of clothes were on the sofas too.

A mess that just screams: "Welcome back home, Finn!"

He is walking upstairs now, as he is removing his gloves from his long, crooked fingers. His head pops out from the doorframe, as he looks at Nick unpacking his stuff in his own bedroom.

"Nicholas!"

"Flingus! How are you doing, man?" Nick walks to him, wiping back his crazy black curls, so, so similar to Finn's ones.

"Fine, actually." He lies easily, as he hugs his brother with all the affection he has, "What about you?"

"Heh, busy with the move. But once my flat is ready, I'll invite you there for some days of quality bro time." He pats his shoulder, as Finn's eyes travels around the room.

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