✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩
｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
ﾟ。 Beck x Lysander
ﾟ･｡･ﾟ
✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩✿ฺᡣ𐭩
“Is that how you introduce all your boyfriends, or am I just special?” he felt like the ground had dropped out from under him. ‘Boyfriend?’ The word echoed in his mind, a thunderous reminder of everything he hadn’t been trying to think about. Shaun’s heart raced as the words escaped Beck’s lips, “Oh, we’re actually going to sit … back there, right … Lysander?”
His legs turned to jelly, threatening to buckle under the weight of the moment. He cleared his throat, trying to muster confidence, but the energy in the air felt charged and electric. The joking tone of the man—Lysander, as Beck had named him—was like a punchline to a joke that only he hadn’t heard. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to be rattled by a simple introduction. “Right,” Shaun managed to say, forcing a smile that felt tighter than it should. “Back there sounds great.” He nodded, his thoughts racing faster than his heart. They were going to sit back there. Away from him. Together.
He could feel embarrassment creeping up his neck as Beck exchanged a subtle glance with Lysander—one that Shaun couldn’t interpret but that made his stomach churn. He thanked whoever had decided to keep the theatres light somewhat low. “I just thought…” His voice faltered, and for a moment, he could see his mother, still sitting in her seat, blissfully unaware of the hot mess he was in. “Well, it’d be nice to catch up whenever you’re free.”
“What did I do in life to deserve a girlfriend that offers me what you just offered me? Hell, I’m not wasting the opportunity.” He felt foolish, standing there, the hopeful words he’d practiced in his mind slipping away like sand through his fingers. As Beck turned back to Lysander, chatter bubbling between them, Shaun realized he might have missed his chance. Had he even had a chance to begin with?
“I already saw the perfect seats back there with zero lighting. It’s very comfortable and cozy! i’ll show you.” Shaun felt an almost physical ache as he watched Beck lead Lysander away, her grip on his arm firm and casual, her smile wide and inviting.
“Enjoy the premiere,” he heard himself say, the words tumbling out as if dictated by someone else. There was no warmth in his tone like he’d intended, it was simply a hollow farewell. Their laughter echoed like a taunt in his ears. It was a stark contrast to the hollow feeling settling in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself as he turned back toward his mother, reminding himself of the importance of this night.
Just as the theater darkened, and the first images began to flicker upon the screen, Shaun felt a pang of uncertainty wash over him. He glanced at her, her face illuminated by the flickering light from the screen, the excitement of the moment written in the crinkles around her eyes. Yet, beneath the surface, there was an unmistakable distance—a disconnection that pulled at his heart.
”Isn’t this just the best?” he said softly, nudging her playfully in an attempt to ignite her attention. She turned to him, her expression brightening, but not fully recognizing the connection.
“Oh, sweetheart, look at that! Such a handsome boy!” she exclaimed, her voice animated with joy as she pointed at the screen where a younger version of him was walking into frame. For a moment, Shaun’s chest tightened. He felt a pang of warmth mixed with sorrow.
He had expected this—understood that the person he had become would remain a mystery to her. The years had taken so much from her, peeling away memories like layers from an onion, leaving behind snippets of the past that often felt like fragile wisps of smoke.
“Yeah, it’s me…Mom,” he replied, forcing a smile that felt genuine. “I’m here.” He reached out, gently squeezing her hand. Her warmth brought a sense of grounding, a reminder that amidst everything, they still had these moments together.
“But, my little boy…,” she said, her brows furrowing slightly. It was one of those moments he had come to recognize—the recurring threads of worry that danced through her mind since her diagnosis. Each fleeting instance of confusion tugged at his heart, a raw reminder of the battles they faced together.
“You don’t need to worry. I’ll always be right here,” he reassured her. Shaun tried to focus, but he felt the weight of what distracted him just moments ago linger in his chest. Each scene on the screen played against a backdrop of his thoughts, swirling between the film’s narrative and the vivid memory of Beck’s smile, her laughter. But whenever his gaze flickered away from the screen, it landed on his mom, her eyes bright with anticipation, and that alone became a tether.
“Look, the lights are dancing,” she said, pointing at the flickering images, her enthusiasm infectious. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It really is,” Shaun agreed, allowing himself to get caught up in her wonder. He watched as she leaned forward, her fingers tapping softly on the armrest, fully engaged in the unfolding story.
“Who’s that?” she asked, squinting at the screen as a character came into focus. There was a slight furrow in her brow, a familiar sign of her trying to connect the dots.
“It’s Shaun. Your son.” The words felt both heavy and light, an anchor in the stormy sea of their lives. She gazed at him for a heartbeat, confusion flickering behind her eyes. “Yes, yes, my little angel,” she replied, her smile unwavering. “You were always so full of life. Look at that little face! You always had to be in front of people,”
✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩 ✿ฺ ᡣ𐭩