UNEDITED

•••

LEO

"You good, bro?" Jean asked, words heavy with a French accent, watching as I glared at the biology textbook in front of me. We were sitting in homeroom– the teacher had taken our attendance, and we just had to wait for twenty more minutes until we were let out of school. I never questioned why the school took our attendance at the start and end of school, but it gave me enough time to relax after six hour-long, lesson-packed classes.

"Yeah, I am," I replied, averting my gaze from the textbook that has shown me the truth and to my best friend of eleven years. We met at kindergarten and have been inseperable since– well Jean, Noel and me, but he was in a different homeroom. 

He scoffed, "If you stare any longer at that textbook, you'll burn a hole through it," He informed me, cocking an eyebrow when I gave him a deadpan look. I stared at the lightskin in front of me and thought about his parents– it made sense that he was their child; he shared a blend of both his parent's skin tones; he had his mother's hair and his father's eyes and lips.

But was I mom's and Isaac's kid?

"I'm just thinking about the biology homework Madame Abrielle gave us," I returned. That was a half-lie– I was just trying to figure out how to get mama to admit that papa wasn't my... well, dad. If there was one lesson mama made sure to teach me, it was how to be sly and I was going to use that to my advantage. Would I use her as the encyclopedia that she was and ask her to help me with my genetics homework?

"Ah," Jean sighed, leaning into his seat, tipping it back so it only stood on its hind legs. "C'est très facile. I can help you if you want." [It's very easy.]

"I don't need your help," I snapped almost defensively, but then I remembered the manners mama and papa made sure to instill within me. If there's one thing my mom cared the most about, it was how I treated people. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."

He waved his hand dismissively, used to my brash behaviour, "I know how you are about your intellegence, Einstein," He taunted, rolling his eyes. "You'd think the smartest student in our grade wouldn't be so easily affected by somebody offering help academically."

I ran my hand through my hair and tugged it, glancing at the watch that hung above the interactive board, "I just want to fucking see my mom," I told him honestly.

And it was true. Mama had been in New York for the past two weeks, doing some work that she didn't bother explaining. I hadn't been away from her for this long, not even when I was a kid, according to papa, and I just missed her. I wanted her to give me her hugs and I wanted papa to stop sulking, telling me how much he missed his wife.

Our home felt empty without mama's presence.

"Madame Amity is back today, non?" He questioned, making me nod. He grinned at the news– mama always treated Jean and Noel like they were her own, and they loved her like a second mother. "Sweet. Maybe she can–"

"Non," I told him, narrowing my eyes. "You better stop using my mom for food."

"But her brownies," He groaned, eyes brightening up when the bell rang. "Damn, I can't wait to go home. I just want to sleep for the rest of the day."

"You've got homework," I said, slapping him upside the head as I slung my open backpack over my shoulder. He whined and rubbed his head while I checked my phone for messages. There was one from papa saying he was outside waiting, and that I should 'hurry the fuck up' because he has yet to see 'his love'.

"You've got homework," He mimicked in a high-pitch. I kissed my teeth and spun around to leave the class, leaving him scrambling behind me. "Attends!" [Wait!]

I ignored his words and glanced down at the biology textbook in me, a strand of DNA spanning from the spine to the bottom right corner. Jean caught up to me and shoved me to the side as we walked out the back entrance and into the parking. I saw mama's Mercedes Benz and grinned when I saw papa in the driver's seat– he must've really missed mama if he was driving her car rather than his.

I waved goodbye at Jean, sticking my middle finger up when he stuck his tongue out. I opened the door to the passenger's seat and tossed my bag onto the floor before jumping into the leather chair. Papa looked up from his phone and smiled at me, ruffling my hair as a form of greeting.

"Hey, Leo," He said, setting his phone down before pulling out of the parking lot. I put my seat belt on.

"Hi, papa," I replied setting the textbook on my lap. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and assessed his side profile, "Is mama home, yet?"

His smile widened, "Yes!" He chirped, doing a little shimmy with his shoulders. "It's about fucking time."

I breathed out at the news, both excited to see mama again and anxious as to how I was going to approach this topic. When it came to mama, I was no doubt her child. I had her nose, her lips, and even her mess of curly hair. I was smart like mama and even had her ability to integrate any curse words into my sentences. But when it came to papa, I realized, we had nothing in common– well, physically that was. I was athletic like him, made jokes at inappropriate times like him. But I didn't have his height (yet, hopefully), or hair color, or face shape.

My eyes were grey while both of theirs were brown. 

My skin tone was way tanner than theirs.

And according to what we learned this week in biology, somebody had to be an anomaly, and it could only be papa.

•••

As soon as we walked through our front door, we were hit with the smell of mama's food. Papa, not even bothering to close the door, tossed his duffel bag at my feet and ran into our home. I huffed and closed the door behind me, activating the security system like mama always had me do– something I never understood.

Why do I have to do this?– Because I fucking told you to do it.

I picked up papa's stinky duffel bag and threw it into the closet. I walked into the house, placing my bag on some random chair before I made my way to our kitchen. Papa had his arms wrapped around mama's waist, her back pressed into his chest, as he repeatedly kissed the side of her face. She just smiled at the action and continued cutting  up the vegetables for a salad.

I stared at the two. Sure, maybe I had been blessed with the world's best parents, and yeah, maybe I'd gotten used to their public displays of affection. But was I the product of both of their love? I just wanted to know the truth.

Mama ripped herself out of her husband's hold when she caught sight of me. Papa whined at the action, but she dismissed him with the wave of a hand. She ran towards me, wrapping me up in her motherly hug. I rested my chin on her shoulder and inhaled her scent– mama always smelled good, even when she occasionally joined papa and I for our morning runs.

"I missed you, mama," I muttered into her ear. 

She squeezed me tight before taking a step back, cupping my face in her hands, "Did you grow taller? Did your dad feed you three meals a day?" She asked, moving my head from side to side. "Isaac I gave you one fucking job–"

"Actually, you gave me multiple," Papa cut her off, his smile not wavering when she gave him a deadly glare. "Most of which I already do on a daily basis, my love."

"Mama," I cut her off, wrapping my fingers around her wrist to pry her hands off me. "I'm the same Leo you left behind."

"Okay," She breathed out before narrowing her eyes into thin slits. She slapped my arm. Hard.

"Ow!" I yelped, jumping away from her. I rubbed my shoulder, my eyes wide as I stared at her. "The fuck was that for?"

"I gave you one job," She repeated the words she told papa. "What was it?"

"To call you everyday," I mumbled sheepishly, checking my shoulder for blood. Nope, it was just cherry red. "That fucking hurt, 'ma."

"Good," She said with a nod, twirling around to continue making dinner. "Next time, you'll remember to fucking call me– not just text me three words every day."

"Alright," Papa piped up, eyes following my mom as she walked to the fridge to pull something out. I thought Uncle Nick was kidding when he said papa was whipped. "Leo, go do your homework."

I perked up– this was it.

"Actually," I started, making both adults look at me. "I kind of need mama's help."

"Why not mine?" Papa asked, offended that he wasn't my first pick.

"Because you're not as smart as I am," Mama said casually, making papa's jaw drop open.

"I take it back," He said, crossing his arms as he lifted his chin. "I didn't miss you."

"Okay," Mama shrugged, ignoring the way his eyes bugged out of his head at her nonchalance. She looked at me, "Show me what you need help with."

I nodded and scurried off to rummage through my bag. How was I supposed to go about doing this? I opened my notebook and retrieved the packet I had to hand in tomorrow. Mama was smart– she could see right through anybody's bullshit, just like my tonton, except she was way better than him.

Cody would know what to do.

I should've fucking texted him instead of throwing myself to the wolves.

When I walked back into the kitchen, I was met with the ungodly sight of my dad trapping mama against a counter, his arms on either side of her. He was saying some things to her and I thanked fuck that I wasn't able to hear him.

"Cut that out," I gagged. "It's disgusting."

Papa's head snapped up to face me and his face fell at the sight of the piece of paper I was clutching. He muttered something under his breath which I could've sworn sounded like 'cockblock'. Mama kissed his cheek before spinning around to face me. She rounded the island and took a seat on the stool, patting the one next to her.

She read through the question a good three time before she shot me a look I couldn't decipher. I gave her an innocent smile and she nodded before jumping in to explain how punnet squares and genetics worked. I already knew all this, so I pretended to nod along, making a few 'oohs' and 'ahhs' to make it sound like I understood what she was saying.

She sat back and watched as I worked through the different punnet squares. I'd occasionally feign making a mistake, and she'd help me understand why I was wrong. Once I finished working through the packet, I caught her stifling a yawn as I flipped it to a blank page.

Here it goes.

"Madame Abrielle also wants us to make a personal one," I informed her drawing a two parallel lines before drawing anohter two perpedicular to the first one. "Something about blood groups."

She smiled and nodded, "Okay," She said, nodding as she rubbed her eyes. "Both Isaac and I's blood type is A positive."

I faltered as I wrote down the alleles. Mama pulled out her phone and started scrolling through it as I filled in the square. I set my pen down and stared at the results. So I was right? I glanced at my mom and pursed my lips. Was she not going to say anything about this?

"Mama," I started, eyes flitting from her to the paper. "This says that my bloodtype should be A, but it's O."

She glanced at the piece of paper, "You chose the wrong alleles," She told me. She picked up my pen and corrected it. "There, do it again."

I huffed and fixed it. I stared at the result again– what the fuck?

"This doesn't make any sense," I voiced out my thoughts, effectively grasping my mom's attention.

"Yes it does," She argued poiting at the paper. "Look, if–"

"Not that," I cut her off, making her eyebrows raise. "My eyes are gray."

"And mine are brown," She deadpanned.

"Exactly!" I exclaimed just as papa walked back into the kitchen, an empty bowl in his hands. "Papa's eyes are brown too. Why are mine gray?"

She shrugged, "You're learning genetics, aren't you?" She asked rhetorically. "I'm sure you've heard of mutations."

Papa snickered when my face fell. She glanced at the piece of paper before giving me the same look she gave me at the start. Then she sighed and shook her head, "I thought I taught you better, Leo."

"W-what?" I questioned, baffled. What the fuck was happening? Did mama call me a mutation– what was she disappointed with? "I'm so fucking confused." I mumbled, massaging my temples.

"I mean, I'm glad you figured it out on your own," Mama said, getting up to stir whatever was in the pot. "I just wish you weren't so fucking obvious about it. What happened to everything I taught you?"

"What's happening?" I sounded.

"Leo, you're smart enough to understand how to solve that entire packet yourself," She said, her back facing me. "You could've gone about asking me a different way. Maybe a way that didn't waste twenty minutes of my time."

My eyes flickered between her and papa, who was leaning against the counter next to the stove. He was watching me with a small smile on his face. I stared at him and then looked at mama, who turned around to continue chopping the vegetables that were probably going into a salad for papa.

"Wait..." I trailed off, trying to make sense of everything my mom said in the span of two minutes. "So you admit that papa isn't my biological father?"

She shrugged, and glanced over at papa, who winked at her, "No, Leo," He shook his head. "I'm not your biological father."

"Oh," I muttered.

What now? They didn't bother hiding it from me– all I had to do was ask. That's how mama and papa always were with me. The spoke to me like an adult and treated me with respect unless I stepped out of line. If I wanted to know something, they didn't push me away and tell me I was 'too young to know', they just flat-out told me.

It was why Jean and Noel loved them so much– because they got a break from being treated like babies. Sure, I had some restricitons. Like whenever I went out with my friends, I had to have my location on. I never questioned it, though, because it was the one thing they asked of me, and I wasn't going to say no. They never invaded my privacy, but mama liked to know where I was all the time.

She said it gave her some peace of mind.

"Well, who is, then?" I asked.

Mama slid the vegetables into a bowl before wiping the cutting board down. She exchanged it with a different one and slid a steak onto it, "Adam," She said vaguely.

I didn't know an Adam.

"Adam who?"

"None of your business," She replied almost instantly. My dad shot me a nervous look which made me furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

"Does he live in paris?" I questioned, leaning forward. "Can I meet him?"

Mama slid a knife through the meat, "No and no."

I blinked and clenched my jaw, "Why not?"

"Because I fucking said so," She snapped, lifting her head to give me a look that usually had me clamp my mouth shut if I wasn't so angry and confused.

I had the right to know who my birth father was. It was bad enough I had to find out on my own, but now I wasn't allowed to know whose DNA I shared? My eyes flickered to papa whose face had lost the smile he had a few minutes ago. Now he was just staring at mama with a worried look.

"That's so unfair," I argued heatedly. "I–"

"Leo, look at my face," She said, looking up at me. I stared at her and shook my head in confusion. "Does it look like I give a shit? I told you that you can't meet him and you won't."

A muscle in my jaw ticked, "But–"

"Leo," She grit out, setting the knife down loudly. "I might be laid back most of the time, but when I tell you that I'm not going to let you do something, I'm not going to change my mind. I said no, and that's exactly what I mean. You can't meet Adam."

"Okay, my love," Papa intervened, wrapping his arm around her waist. "How about you go rest, yeah?" Then, he looked at me and gave me a pointed look. "Can you please go up to your room, Leo?"

I grit my teeth against each other and snatched the packet off the counter. Mama stared at me with cold eyes, something she'd never done before, while Isaac grimaced at the action, "Fuck this," I muttered, stalking out of the kitchen.

•••

I'd worked through my homework quickly. It wasn't that hard since the textbooks had most of the answers. Now, I was staring at a picture of mama, papa and I at one of his games. Mama and I were decked out in his team's merch while papa was sweaty in his uniform that was dirty with grass stains and dirt. His hair stuck to his forehead because of the sweat.

Papa was still my dad, through and through. He was the one who raised me. According to mama, he was there since the day I was born, even before that when she was pregnant with me. That wouldn't change– nothing could stop me from regarding Isaac Jacobs as my father.

Still, that doesn't mean that I didn't want to know who my biological father was. I hated not knowing things. All questions had to have an answer, and when I couldn't figure the answer out, it drove me up the wall with madness. Who was my biological father? Had mama been previously married to someone else? Why wasn't he in the picture anymore?

Mama always answered my questions. She explained what sex was to me when some kid had brought it up in fifth grade. When I asked why she didn't have any parents, she told me all about how tonton Dyl had to raise her for the second half of her childhood since her dad died. All I had to do was ask, and she'd tell me.

But why wouldn't she tell me why I couldn't meet Adam?

It wasn't like I was going to run away with him or anything.

I glanced at the door when a knock sounded. Papa peeked his head in through the gap, "Can we talk, little man?"

"Sure," I shrugged half-heartedly. If mama wasn't going to give me any answers, papa surely would. He smiled and walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He took a seat on the foot of my bed while I rolled my chair towards him. "Where's mama?"

"She just fell asleep," He told me. "She's super jet-lagged, and the fight you both just had made her even more exhausted. Let's just hope she doesn't get any nightmares."

I reeled back at his statement, "Nightmares?" I questioned in disbelief. "Why would mama get a nightmare?"

"Amber was diagnosed with PTSD a few years ago," He explained. "It doesn't affect her like it used to, but there are some things that trigger her nightmares– like Adam."

"W-what?" I stammered, eyes wide. PTSD? Nightmares? That didn't sound like mama. "Can you tell me what happened?"

He nodded and intertwined his fingers together, "Your mom used to date Adam for a good two years. But one day, when he came home from work, five men burst into your mom's apartment. One man held a gun up to her head while everyone else– including Adam– robbed her. They took everything– from her jewelry to her couch."

"Gun?" I breathed out.

"Yeah. One wrong move from her and..." He pursed his lips, eyes darkening at the thought. "Adam was only with her so they could plan the perfect heist. Long story short, Dylan had installed some secuirty cameras without Amber's knowledge which helped the police catch them." 

Mama could've died?

"So... Adam's in jail?" I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat.

He shook his head, making me do a double take, "He was let out on good beaviour a few years ago," Papa informed me. "Your mom, though, fell into a depressive state for a bit. She found out she was pregnant with you, and she didn't know what to do– she didn't have a mom, so she didn't know how to be one. For a good year, Amber only got a maximum of four hours of sleep because she couldn't close her eyes without seeing someone point a gun at her head."

"And as if that wasn't bad enough," He continued, making my eyes widen even more. It could get worse? "Amber had been diagnosed with pre-eclampsia."

"What's that?"

"Her blood pressure was way too high during her pregnancy. Remember when Amber was really sick a few years ago?"

I thought back to what he was referring to. I was only seven, but I could faintly remember mama being bound to her bed for two weeks before she had to go to the hospital. I nodded hesitantly, "I don't remember it that well."

"We found out Amber was pregnant," He informed me, voice unusually low, almost like the memory itself brought him pain. "She tried to carry the baby, but it was too much strain on her body since she almost died giving birth to you."

My breath caught in my throat, "What?" I whispered.

"Pre-eclampsia means that you have a high blood pressure during pregnancy. That could lead to a lot of complications. When she was only six months pregnant with you, you mother passed out. Antoine had to call the ambulance and everything, and we found out that all her organs started shutting down. She was in a coma for a week or two so her body could recover."

Mama could've died twice?

"If she tried to carry our baby a few years back, both her and the baby would have died," He cleared his throat, averting his gaze from me to his lap. "Amber got really sick, and they said her liver was starting to give out again and the baby wasn't developping properly which meant the chances of it surviving was super low. At that point, Amber was only putting her life at risk, and the only way to save her life was by terminating her pregnancy."

"Mama could have died seven years ago?" I questioned, voice breaking as tears welled up in my eyes.

Papa cleared his throat again but nodded, "The stress from the robbery and her PTSD manifested themselves into physical illnesses," He said. "That's why your mom doesn't want you meeting Adam– she's scared he could psychologically hurt you the way he did her. She's only trying to protect you."

I wiped my tears away and swallowed the lump in my throat, "Is... is that why we have a security system?" I asked, everything suddenly making sense. "And why tonton Dylan had all our blood types tested? And why mama asks me to have my location on wherever I go?"

"Exactly," He said. "Amber is always worried about her safety and yours. She doesn't want anything happening to you and if something did, she'd know where you were and everything."

"I feel like such a fucking asshole," I breathed out. Mama was only trying to protect me. She'd just come back from two weeks away at New York where I'm sure she did nothing but work, and the first thing I did when I saw her was trigger her nightmares.

I deserved the 'son of the year' award.

"Great," Papa said, patting me on the back. "That's exactly what I was aiming for with this whole speech-slash-explanation. If you make your mom feel as shitty as you did just now, you're sleeping outside the house for a week."

"Okay," I agreed. I would have deserved it. My mom carried me for six months, almost died when I was born, and raised me for fourteen years. The least I could do was make sure not to act like a brat. "Is mama still asleep?"

He glanced at the time displayed on my laptop's screen saver, "Probably," He shrugged before he perked up. "How about we bring her dinner up to her bed?"

I grinned at the idea, "Can we pick some flowers from the garden in the backyard?"

I stood up, grin widening when papa draped his arm over my shoulder. He placed a kiss on my hair and nodded, "I'll get a small vase," He said. "Expanding a company to a whole other country isn't easy work."

I tilted my head, "Is that what she was doing?" Papa nodded. "That's so cool."

"Your mother's fucking cool," He said, a fond smile on his lips. "Come on, the lasagna she made is calling her name. I also want to eat that steak salad she made me."

She made ur our favorite meals.

"I don't think some flowers are going to cut it," I stated with a shake of my head. "Mama deserves those large bouquets. You know, the ones celebrities post on their instagram?"

Papa grinned, "How about you order one online and pay for it while I plate up her dinner?"

I nodded and pulled out my phone. Mama would get nothing but the brightest, most beautiful and aromatic flowers Paris could offer because she deserved nothing but the best.

•••

Mama's bouquet of flowers arrive thirty minutes after I placed in the order. In the meantime, papa took it upon himself to finish half of the week-worth of salad she'd prepared for him. I, on the other hand, rehearsed my apology that I'd give her. She didn't wake up from her nap and papa had checked up on her to make sure she wasn't having a nightmare.

I adjusted my grip on the large ass bouquet, wondering where the fuck mama would keep it, and followed papa up the stairs to their bedroom. He pushed open the door and walked in. We were met with the sight of mama hugging papa's pillow close as she mumbled things under her breath. Her eyebrows were puckered up into a frown and she seemed distressed.

"Ah, shit," Papa muttered, placing the tray down on mama's vanity before hurrying over to her side of the bed.

Was mama having a nightmare?

"Hey, my love," He whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. "If you open your eyes, everything will disappear."

I tightened my grip on her bouquet, deciding that I didn't like the sight of mama in pain because of me. Because of Adam. I was suddenly hit with a wave of guilt– I should've just let the topic go when she said I wasn't allowed to meet him. Mama never asked for much from me and it was unfair of me to act like a brat because I wasn't getting my way.

I watched as mama's eyes fluttered open. She stared blankly at the wall in front of her as papa continued stroking her hair. I swallowed the lump in my throat and waited for her to snap out of her shock. Papa looked at me and cocked his head towards her, giving me a pointed look. I nodded in understanding and stepped into her line of sight. Her eyes flickered towards me, and her expression softened.

"Je suis désolée, mama," I told her as she sat up on her bed. Papa placed a kiss on the side of her head and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I should have just listened to you when you said that I couldn't meet... him. Papa– he explained everything to me and I understand everything–" [I'm sorry, mama.]

"Come here, mon cher," She interrupted my rant, patting the spot on the bed by her. I didn't even hesitate to climb onto her bed. 

I sat on my knees and glanced down at the bouquet, "Oh! I got you these," I said, pushing the flowers in her direction. "And papa brought your dinner up here so you can eat it in bed."

"It was all my idea," He boasted proudly.

"Nuh-uh!" I retorted, shaking my head wildly. "The flowers were my idea."

"You wouldn't have thought of getting Amber flowers if I didn't suggest dinner in bed." He replied, sticking his tongue out, thinking he won the argument.

Mama rolled her eyes at him and he gave her a cheeky grin in response. She stared at the flowers for a while before she looked at me, "Merci, Leo. I love them."

"Yeah?" I asked, biting my lip nervously. "Do you forgive me? If I knew about– I wouldn't have brought it up, I swear!"

She pushed the flowers into her husbands chest, resulting in him getting a mouthful of the paper they wrapped the bouqet up in, and outstreched her arms for me. I instantly wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her into a hug.

I'll take that as a yes.

"I love you, mama," I whispered.

"I love you too, baby," She replied, hugging me close. Then she pulled back and hit me upside the head, "If you try and argue with me again, you're sleeping outside the house for a week."

"That's what I said!" Papa exclaimed excitedly. "It's like we can read each other's minds, babe."

She smiled widely at his words and looked around the room, "I was promised food. The airplane food was fucking atrocious."

"Oh, yeah!" I jumped off the bed and ran towards the vanity. I grabbed the tray and carefully spun around to set it on the mattress in front of her. "Bon appetit."

She picked up the plate and a spoon, "Do you guys want to watch a movie with me?" She asked, picking up the remote from her bedside table to turn on the TV. "I think I saw–"

"Mulan!" Papa cut her off, ripping the remote out of her grasp to buy it. He knocked his shoulder with hers, "Move over, my love."

Mama blinked but moved over none the less. She propped up papa's pillow behind her to get comfortable and crossed her legs over each other. When the movie started, papa's arms snaked around mama and he pulled her close to him. He's acting as if he hadn't seen her in a year.

While mama was in New York, papa had made an alarm so that he would video call mama and talk to her for hours. He'd go to sleep then wake up to call her at one o'clock in the morning since that was when she got home from work there, and I'd be asleep by then so I couldn't join him. They'd stay on the call until mama managed to convince papa to go the fuck to sleep.

I laid down on the mattress and placed my head on mama's lap, like I always did when we watched a movie together at home. She smiled at the action and took a bite of the lasagna we brought up for her. She'd occasionally lift a fork up to papa's mouth so he could eat some too.

I, however, drew the line, when dad started poking my sides.

"Can I help you?" I snapped, shoving his hand away.

"Yes you can. Here," He shoved mama's empty plate into my hands. "Go wash this. I want to talk to my love about something."

I screwed up my face, my nose crinkling with disgust, "Is that code for–"

"Glad you're not as dense as you seem," He interrupted. Mama pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something under her breath. "Leave!"

"She's my mom!" I defended. "I haven't seen her in two weeks either. Stop hogging her."

"Well she's my wife," He emphasised. "Go away. Let me hang out with Amber."

"Since when did 'hang out' mean–"

Suddenly, the room was plunged into darkness. The lit TV allowed me to see mama pull the blanket over her shoulder as she rested her head on papa's pillow. She closed her eyes and a second later, I could swear she was fast asleep.

"Did she just?" I questioned, baffled by how quickly she went to sleep. I thought tonton was kidding when he said my mom could sleep through anything.

"She always fucking does this," He muttered, rolling his eyes. That didn't stop him from placing a kiss on her temple before picking up the tray. "Come on, we've got dishes to wash."

"Do I have to?" I whined when he shoved me out their bedroom.

"If you don't," He started. "I'm eating all the lasagna–"

"Am I loading or rinsing?" I cut him off, knowing damn well my dad was capable of eating an entire lasagna by himself.

He grinned at my words and draped an arm over my shoulders. I returned his smile, equally as genuine and wide, and looked behind me at the closed bedroom door.

Yeah, I probably had the world's best parents. Even when one of them wasn't biologically related to me.

•••

– 12/08/20

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Might make a one shot book filled with scenes including cece, cody, tony and leo!! What do you think??