Child
He stares into the mirror for a long time, crinkles his eyes and flashes barely visible dimples, imagines finely plucked brows and long dark hair; a smiling face to go with a voice he's never really heard and he mouths the words 'I love you' while watching his reflection do the same.
For a fleeting moment he allows himself to imagine it is true; that once upon a time a woman held the soft swell of her belly and murmured these words with a blessing and warmth unfounded, all crinkled eyes and soft dimples as she would let herself whisper it over and over again. Just as sudden as it comes it also crashes, reality harshly tuning itself back in–
'Mother' ―and the grief is overwhelming.
A/N: Drabble.
Because I rather like that Chuck Basstard.
