supernova

28

I put the letters down.

Apparently crying was my new thing.

I sat in my mom's bed hugging the folder full of envelopes to my chest.

"Hey, Turner, oh." I wiped my face and took a deep breathe.

"Yea, what's up."

"A lawyer is coming to see you next week for something. Let's go to bed," he said and I followed him into my room.

I put the folder in a drawer.

"Is it because my dad's parents want custody?" I was shit scared of that happening.

"No, but if you're worried about that we can talk to my dad. He's a lawyer."

"We'll see, what's the lawyer tomorrow for?"

"Your mom's will basically states everything goes to you. As a minor, this means it will go to me for now, and then you will reclaim it in September. Also, since it's so much, they need to know who gets it if you die young. You don't have kids or anyone else you could leave it too."

"Amukta." The answer was a no brainer.

"As I expected. Go get changed, let's go to bed."

He had already seen me naked, so I changed into a sports bra and a pair of shorts and got in bed.

"What were you looking at in your mom's room?" he asked.

"She left me letters for basically the rest of my life. I was reading the note she added with it." I explained and he threw his arm around me, pulling me into him. "She signed her name and my dad's name at the end. I think that's when I started crying."

"You think?"

"I don't know," I playfully slapped his shoulder. "Go to sleep, douchebag." I turned the other way.

"Does the lawyer tomorrow also have to do with my medical needs? Like if I couldn't make a decision, who would?"

"That's for when you turn eighteen, for now, it's me."

"Well, in the case that something happens, I don't want to be on life support for more than one week."

"Alright. Anything else?"

"No."
~~

I woke up the next morning to an empty bed. I felt like I was hungover. Not like the pain from the alcohol, but the aftermath of the events yesterday.

I felt exhausted and mentally blurred and emotionally suffocated.

I was never good at dealing with things, so when I open up, as a reflex, I close back up tighter than before.

I barely opened up though, which is concerning, but I like to ignore that.

My day was quiet. Atlas wasn't home all day. All I did was watch Netflix.

I got through an entire season of Grey's. Cristina leaves in the next season, and Derek dies in the one after.

Around ten thirty, Atlas came home and he was fuming.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked and he came up to me, his hand going around my throat and pulled me in, kissing me.

I kissed him back on impulse. My hands went to his waist and pulled him closer.

He began walking to my room, with his hand still on my throat, meaning I was walking backwards.

He locked the door, began kissing me again. His hands left to lift me up, but I stopped them. I began kissing down his neck, and took off his shirt.