In the silence of his room, Miles sat. He simply listened to the static of his Bluetooth headphones as he stared down at his masterpiece. He observed every stroke he had made, from the colors of the background to the most minute highlights that no one, besides himself, would recognize. He was a perfectionist, just as his uncle taught him to be, which came in handy with projects such as this.
And yet, amidst the perfection of his work of art, he could feel the weight of the imperfection in his life that he couldn't control weighing on his chest. Well, suppose it shouldn't be called "imperfection", rather it should be called frustrations, or more plainly, obstacles.
Take Y/n's father for example. He was one of the major obstacles in his life. Strange concept, it would seem, for another person's father to be an "imperfection". But it wasn't her father himself, but the way that he fear mongered and ruled over his family members as if he were a dictator and they were nothing more than peasants to be crushed under his heel. Or perhaps he was just upset that her father somehow came home at the perfect time to cut his and Y/n's call short.
In this moment, it was most definitely the latter.
Fucking asshole... he thought as he glared down at his creation. Always getting in the damn way, making her life miserable...
He leaned back in his chair and sighed, closing his eyes as he listened to the white noise of his headphones. A sudden wave of tiredness washed over him as he relaxed, becoming aware of the aches in his back and hands and wrists.
That was one of the worst parts about taking a break when it came to art. Just as you start getting comfortable, the pain starts to surface, and you remember why its better to not stop, or to just not start the project at all.
He slid his headphones off his head and stood up with a groan, walking out of his room and into the main space of his home. He didn't expect anyone to be home, so he decided to wander to the kitchen and make himself a some food. After all, due to being consumed by his artwork, he hadn't eaten all day, so he was definitely hungry. Much to his surprise, however, he found his mom in the kitchen, cooking over the stove and humming to herself.
"I didn't know you were home," Miles said bluntly, standing in the middle of the kitchen with a blank stare.
Rio turned around at the sound of her son's voice, a bit stunned at the fact that he was suddenly there. However, the look on her face soon morphed to that of sweetness, a warm smile lightening her features.
"My shift finished early," she explained, looking over her shoulder as she spoke. "And they told me that they didn't need me at the hospital tonight. So I thought it would be nice to make us dinner. You know, like the good times!"
Miles nodded, but his expression remained the same as he sat down at the table and watched his mom as she cooked.
"Cool," was all he mumbled before he allowed himself to get lost in his exhaustion, closing his eyes with a huff.
Rio glanced back at her son. Even after all these years, she didn't know how to respond to Miles when he was cold and calloused as he was in this moment. But she didn't blame him for being this way. After all he'd been through, it was completely understandable for him to be like this. Still, she couldn't help but hope that that happy little boy would eventually come back.
"Ay, hijo, who was that you were talking to earlier?" Rio asked in an attempt to get the conversation rolling, raising her eyebrow with a smirk.
Miles opened his eyes and looked at his mom with a chuckle. "Just Y/n, ma, no need to worry," he reassured, his voice hinted with humor, but still mostly dead.
"Wait, isn't she grounded?" Rio questioned as she turned around and turned off the stove, splitting her attention between her son and her cooking.
"Yeah," Miles nodded, smirking to himself as his voice filled with a certain fondness. "But you know her. She's a little troublemaker."
Rio laughed, sitting down at the table next to her son.
Usually, she wouldn't condone such behavior, much less laugh it off as a joke. After all, in her own household, if she had ever caught Miles doing such a thing, he would instantly regret it. But, as it would turn out, Rio was also not a fan of Y/n's father and the way he allegedly treated her and her mother. So to her, this was more of a "stick it to the man" situation than a disobeying a parent's orders.
"Ah, sí, qué alborotador. Sin embargo, tienes que amar el espíritu," Rio spoke softly, speaking as though Y/n were her own child. "Es un poco impresionante, si lo piensas."
"Definitivamente," Miles chuckled, his smile broadening the more he thought about her. "Ella siempre ha sido muy impresionante."
Rio glanced at her son with a raised eyebrow, her lips twitching into a teasing smirk.
"Solo dices eso porque crees que es bonita," Rio lowered her voice, nudging him lightly as she chuckled.
Miles tensed up immediately, his face burning with embarrassment at the truth of his mom's words. For a moment, he was left speechless, too flustered to come up with a response.
It was true, his mom was aware of his feelings toward Y/n. In fact, she was aware of them before he was. Still, he never liked when she pointed it out so bluntly.
"¡Mamá!" was all he managed to mumble, unable to face his mother's gaze as he attempted to hide in his hoodie.
"What, you know I'm right!" she grinned at him, tilting her head and mumbling something in Spanish under her breath.
"Whatever," he rolled his eyes as he muttered into his palm, his face and neck burning as he internally screamed, silently cursing his mom and her ability to always make him embarrassed.
At his response, his mother softened, chuckling to herself as she watched her child's expression. In that moment, as she observed her flustered child, she couldn't help but see her husband hidden behind his hazel eyes. From the way his eyes lit up when he talked about Y/n to the way he flushed at his mother's teasing, the similarities were undeniable. It was almost as if she were looking into the past.
In fact, everything about this situation reminded her about her and Jefferson when they first met. The way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her every time they saw each other, she couldn't help but see Miles looking at Y/n the same way. And while it did make her sad at times, reminiscing on when the love of her life was by her side, the happiness she felt for her son overpowered it every single time.
"Oh, how's the painting going?" Rio shifted the subject as she stood up from the table, walking back over to the pot on the counter and stirring its contents.
Miles perked up at his mom's question, a grin creeping back up onto his face as he began speaking. He began to describe all the details he had added and little adjustments he had made to make it more realistic, and the entire time he had the goofiest grin on his face. He spoke so fast at times that it was hard to keep up with his words, but even if Rio wasn't able to tell what he was saying, she simply nodded along. She just enjoyed the sound of her son blabbing about something he was passionate and joyous about. And she would do anything to keep him talking like this.
It was very rare that she heard him so excited, so emotional and passionate about anything. Ever since his dad died, he had been more closed off. He became stoic and emotionless, his eyes losing the gleam of childhood innocence as he became aware of the brutality and injustices of life. He had been forced to grow up so fast, and Rio wasn't able to stop it, no matter how much she prayed that her little boy would be okay. She simply had to stand to the side and watch him as he slowly faded from her giddy little boy to a serious and responsible man within a matter of a year.
So it warmed her heart, seeing that childlike glint in his eyes and hearing the emotion in his tone. It made her feel comfort knowing that there was at least one person that could bring this side out of him despite all his hardships. And it brought her more comfort that that was the person he decided to fall for.
"Ma, have I lost ya?" Miles spoke a little louder, looking over his shoulder with a smirk.
Rio snapped out of her daze and nodded, taking a deep breath before turning around and facing her child with a smile.
"No, mijo, you haven't lost me," she chuckled, walking over to the table and cupping her son's face in her hands. "You know I'm so glad you're happy, right?"
Miles tilted his head at his mother's sudden affection, raising his brow as he observed her words. He tried to search her gaze for any alternate meaning, but in the end, he found none. All he could see was a motherly warmth and kindness that radiated off her.
"Yeah, I know..." Miles said hesitantly, glancing to the side for a single moment.
For a few seconds, they shared a silence. As his mother's hands held his face, her eyes radiating the trust and comfort that could warm the coldest of hearts, he felt a certain confidence. A confidence that allowed him to feel as though he could confide in her.
He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it, his insecurities overpowering his newfound confidence. He looked away, hoping that Rio didn't notice, but just as mother's intuition always does, she picked up on this subtle signal.
"Miles, you know you can talk me," she tilted her head, lowering her voice to a calm and soft whisper. She lifted one of her hands to graze the top of his braided hair, the other hand still holding his face. "Whatever it is, I will listen. I will always listen."
Forcing his gaze back to his mom's, he sighed. He motioned to the chair at the kitchen table, and Rio sat. Rio moved her hands to hold both of his, and he allowed her to. Even though he would never admit it, he always enjoyed the comfort his mother's touch brought him, though he seldom sought it out.
"I..." he started, unable to meet his mother's gaze as he searched for the words in his frustrated mind. "Do you think... she'll like the painting?"
While that wasn't what he really wanted to say, he didn't know how to ask what he really wanted to know. But, Rio was able to see what he meant through his words, tilting her head with a smile.
"Of course I do, Miles," she reassured him, giving his hands a comforting squeeze. "But if she doesn't like... your painting, then she is not worth it, because anyone who doesn't like it is stupid."
Miles laughed, a sweet sound that Rio hadn't heard in a long time. And as if the laugh were contagious, it spread to Rio, her own voice echoing in the halls of their shared home.
"Gracias, mami," Miles chuckled, kissing Rio's cheek, pulling her into a tight hug and nuzzling his head into her shoulder.
Rio stiffened for a moment, her son's movements unexpected, but inevitably welcomed as she tightened her arms around him and enveloped him in her warm embrace.
"Cualquier cosa por ti, mijo," she whispered in his ear with a gentle voice, giving his cheek a small kiss.
Just as the Morales was filled with the warmth of familial love, Y/n's household was filled with a suffocating coldness, the kind that was known by everyone except the person who caused it.
As the three members ate dinner at the table, not a word was uttered. The only sounds that filled the air were the scraping of silverware against glass dishes and the soft hum of TV's voice in the background. None of them dared to look at each other. Not even the two who vowed to spend the rest of their lives together.
Y/n glanced at her father before looking at the beer in front of him with a sigh. He was already on his third one and it hadn't even been a full hour. She could already picture how the rest of the night was going to go, drunken yelling keeping her up until godly hours of the night, and most likely an unwarranted aggressive argument.
"What the hell are you looking at?" Y/n's father growled at her, following her gaze to his drink of choice. "Oh, you think you get to judge me? Is that what it is?"
And there it was. The unwarranted aggressive argument. It was a little early for it to be happening, according to her. It usually didn't happen until he to his sixth or seventh beer.
"No sir," she mumbled, keeping her eyes on her food as she picked at it with her fork.
"Oh, so now you have an attitude?" her father scoffed, picking up his beer and taking a rather large swig. "Little miss thinks she's so much better than me. Well go on... say it!"
"F/n..." Y/n's mother chimed in, lifting her glare so that it was pointed at her husband. "Don't start stuff, okay? Let's just have one civil family dinner for God's sake!"
The room quieted once again, leaving the broken family to eat their food as the tension thickened. The scrapes of the silverware against the glass became so much more overbearing, like nails grinding against a chalkboard, the voice from the TV a spokesperson watching the three of them fall to the brink of insanity. They all waited for the inevitable break, the break that would cause the argument to rage into a full on war. The only question was who would be the one to break it.
"It's bullshit," Y/n's mother muttered under her breath, angrily cutting her food before shoving it into her mouth.
Y/n froze at her mother's words, feeling her father's hot gaze burning holes into her mom's head.
"What was that?" he challenged, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes as his grip tightened around his bottle.
She wouldn't dare challenge him... or so he thought.
"I said it's bullshit!" she yelled, slamming her fists into the table, gritting her teeth. "Everything! The fact that you act like you're the head of the house when you know your job doesn't make shit. The fact that you think that you can walk all over our daughter because she's scared of you. It's all bullshit!"
Y/n sat perfectly still, glancing between her two fuming parents as they fought for dominance in the silence. At this moment, her mother was winning, and her father hated it, his breathing heavy as he gritted his teeth.
"You don't want to start with me," he said in a low voice. "Acting like you're better than me-"
"For Christ's sake, I am better!" her mother laughed, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. "The only reason we can afford this damn place is because of my job at Alchemax. I am the only one who genuinely gives a fuck about our daughter's wellbeing. I am the reason you are able to buy all this shitty beer and drink yourself into a stupor. It's all because of me!"
"Ah yes, you care about Y/n's wellbeing," he tutted, shaking his head as he laughed. "Meanwhile you don't care that she's probably opening her legs for that Miles like a slut-"
"I'm opening my legs for anyone!" Y/n screeched, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "And I'm not a slut! Why do you think of me like that, dad? What have I done to make you think of me like that?"
The sound of her deep and strained breaths filled the air, quietly sobbing as her emotions overtook her. Her mother looked across from her with wide eyes. She reached across to grab her daughter's hand, muttering comforts under her breath to try and calm her down.
Her heart ached for her daughter, knowing how much her father's view of her affected her. It sickened her knowing that her daughter was in pain due to the man that she decided to call her husband.
And yet that bastard didn't give a shit about how he made his daughter feel, looking down at her with indignance as she cried before him. If he had a heart, his daughter would never know of it, for his empathy was reserved for those who he respected, or even pitied. And for her, he felt neither.
"Please," he scoffed, rolling his eyes as trails of his harmful words made their way down her face. "Do you really believe this act, M/n?"
Her mother looked him in the eyes, searching his face until she realized he meant his words, that this wasn't just a joke. Even if it was, she would have ripped him apart, but knowing that he wasn't meant he would be a dead man.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shook her head as she growled, standing up from her chair, now towering over her husband. "Our child is crying because of you... and you don't even give a shit. You know you're pathetic, the way you watch over her like she's a fucking object that someone is going to take from you and then don't even care when you break her."
She took a second to laugh, taking another step closer, placing her hands on the table as she looked him in the eyes. Her fiery gaze was enough make the average man crumble, yet her husband remained emotionless, but she would make sure her next set of words would change that.
"You know what, I'm just going to go ahead and say it," she whispered, leaning her face close to his, talking down to him as though to demonstrate how he treated his child. "I honestly don't care if she is fucking Miles. I do not care a single bit because she's human and she's growing up. So if she wants to fuck anyone, guy, girl, whatever, so be it, and I'm not going to treat her like some whore because of it. You and I both know you were pumping and dumping into girls like there was no tomorrow when you were in high school, so you would be a hypocrite to even think about looking down on her. Yet you're acting all high and mighty like God himself. So I'm going to tell you what to do. Apologize to her, now!"
And just as she knew her words would, they seeped into his brain more than any liquor ever could, adding fuel to the unquenchable flame growing within him. He visibly shook, gripping the table as he looked up at her, feeling relatively smaller than he expected to.
But to think he would apologize would be a daydream. So, he did what he did best, directing his anger to the person who he knew it would hurt the most.
"Now I see where you get your attitude from," he spat out at Y/n, finishing the bottle of his beer before standing up, copying his wife's method of intimidation, only he knew it would work so much better. "But I'm going to tell you right now, if I ever see you with that boy again-"
"Don't you dare!" her mother growled, grabbing his shoulder to pull him back, but despite her powerful attitude, she knew her strength was nothing compared to her husband's.
"Shut up!" he barked, using one hand to shove her back. Then he appointed his attention to his daughter, barking, "If I ever see you with that boy again, I'm sending you away. No more New York for you! You're going straight to that all girls school in Oregon!"
Y/n's heart dropped to her stomach as he spoke, shrinking into her seat as tears blinded her. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. The only thing that made its way out was a choked cry. Bowing her head, she nodded, hiding her face in her hands as she muffled her cries.
Her parents began to argue once again, but she didn't hear a word of it, lost in the grief of her own thoughts. She couldn't bear the thought of being so broken in front of them, so she took the chance and ran off to her room, slamming the door behind her as she collapsed on her bed.
She quickly clasped her comfort stuffed animal, crying into it as she gripped its soft flesh with a strength that would pierce human flesh. Her lungs burned as she continued, taking short gasping breaths as her heart pounded in her skull the same way her father's words did.
Oregon. All girls school. No Miles ever again. The fact stabbed her heart the same way a wife hearing her husband died in war would, trembling in her weakness of the situation. Whatever power she felt she had when she liberated herself by sneaking her phone earlier that day was gone. She was simply a shell, morphing into the small girl on the playground that Miles found, sobbing in the darkness because of a bully.
She didn't know how long she cried before she ran out of tears, simply gasping for air in the darkness of her room. Eventually, even that came to a stop, calming herself down with the warmth of happy memories, mostly comprised of her and Miles hanging out. All that she knew is she heard a slam a while ago, along with the screeching of tires disappearing into the night, and shortly after came a knock on her door.
"Honey..." her mother's soft voice spoke from the other side, contrasting the rage that she displayed to Y/n's father. "I'm... I'm sorry. For your father, for putting you through this, for everything, really. Can I come in? And it is okay if you say no, there will be no hard feelings."
For a moment, Y/n remained silent, keeping her puffy face nuzzled into her stuffed animal as she considered her mother's words. Then, with a strained voice, she told her to come in, looking over her shoulder as her mom opened the door.
"Is dad gone?" was the first thing she asked, hope hinting in her voice as she flipped her body over.
Her mother paused as she made her way over to the bed, sitting on the ground next to it. She started playing with her daughter's hair with a slight smile, the warmth in her eyes gentle as she answered in a whisper.
"For now he is, but who knows how long he'll be gone. Maybe a couple hours, maybe a couple days. God knows which one I hope it is."
Both of them chuckled at the last remark. Y/n sniffled as she leaned into her mother's touch, letting out a soft sigh. It had been a long time since there was peace like there was in this specific moment, just a mother and daughter sitting together, displaying the familial love that Y/n craved but rarely got.
Still, there was a heaviness in the air. A question that they both knew would be asked was just before them, eating away at Y/n as she looked at her mother.
"Am I really going to get sent away if I hang out with Miles?" it spilled out of her, hiding her mouth in her stuffed animal as she feared the answer.
"Oh baby," her mother's voice was soft as she tilted her head, shaking her head. "Not as long as I'm here, okay? I won't let him do that to you, kiddo. Not as long as I have say in things. Besides, I'm the one who's making the money, so I get a say where it goes. And I'm definitely not spending it on sending you to an overpriced boarding school."
Y/n laughed at her mother's response, looking at her with a fondness that warmed her mother's spirit.
"Okay," was all Y/n mumbled, closing her eyes as focused on the feeling of her mother playing with her hair. "Finally, there's a good reason that you're working at that problematic shit hole."
Her mother rolled her eyes at the comment, chuckling as she relaxed against the side of the bed, observing her daughter's relaxed and tired expression.
"Hey, don't talk about Alchemax like that," she teased. "And that's not the only good reason for me to be working at Alchemax."
"Yeah, what's that?" Y/n questioned, murmuring softly as she started to drift off.
"They finally switched me to the night shift, so I'll be able to spend all day with you now."
Immediately her daughter's eyes shot open, looking at her mother with a mix of disbelief and joy.
"Are you serious?"
"Yep."
"When does it start?"
"This Monday."
At this news, she hugged her mother, wrapping her arms around her neck and nuzzling her face into her shoulder. Her mother laughed as she hugged her back and encompassed her in her warmth. The previous events from the night slipped from their minds as they held each other, enjoying the simple yet rare moments such as this.
Even though her father was still somewhere out there, drinking himself blind as he spat obscenities to strangers about his tragic family, they didn't have to worry about him. Instead, they simply stayed like this, in each other's arms, indulging in the comfort that as long as they had each other, they would be alright.
And Y/n was able to go to sleep knowing that as long as her mother lived she would be okay. And she slept peacefully.
A/N: Here we are, everybody. Another day, another chapter that I hope is good. I know this one is a rollercoaster of emotions, but I was trying to contrast the family settings of Miles and the reader while still going back to the importance of a mother's love and how much it really matters, so I hope that you guys liked this chapter. Sorry this chapter came out late as well. I was going to post it on the 19th, but that was my birthday and I ended up not having the time to finish it, so here I am. Without further ado, I hope you guys liked this chapter, and the next one will be out soon. Adios, mis queridas.