It was his first time seeing his mother in a long while—or it seemed like it, she had been absent for what seemed like forever. Cherche had the nerve to show up now of all times; Gerome was finally old enough to drive and here she came bearing gifts. A motorcycle helmet rested in one hand, the bike to her side, and the same smile she had every time they encountered present.
"Happy birthday!" she chirped, honeyed in his opinion, acting as if there was no bad blood between them. "I hope I'm not interrupting any plans you may have."
"Nothing of your concern," he responded quietly, hand flying up to adjust his shades. It wasn't like it was anything important, just Inigo and all that nonsense he went on about. Your birthday is the best time to get laid, he remembered vaguely. That...wasn't exactly in his best interests.
A frown flickered across her face, the disappointed was evident. What had she expected? To waltz right back home, and everything would be alright? Perhaps when he was younger it would have worked, but he had been disappointed far too many times for that now. "Come now, you mustn't keep secrets."
He ignored that, instead deciding to question her. "Does father know that you're here?"
Cherche shrugged, flipping a bit of her hair back. Such a bold pink it was, but he couldn't see her with everything else. "I called him but he never picked up. Hopefully he heard one of his voicemails, he isn't the type to ignore them." Another smile tugged at her lips as she continued, "Frederick moved the spare key, didn't he? Always so wary, that man never stops to relax…"
"And for good reasons," Gerome snapped, it coming out harsher than intended. He was so frustrated, why did she always ruin everything? "He wouldn't want strangers such as yourself wandering into the house."
"Am I at the wrong address? Surely this can't be the same Gerome I once knew."
She had the nerve to make a joke of everything too! How could she, how dare she, act like this. A part of him wished that she was at the wrong address, that this was all some big mistake. He didn't think any of it was funny, not one bit. "Once, Cherche."
"Cherche," she repeated, as if the word was foreign to her. "You used to call me Mommy you know. Your first words were 'Mama' , what happened to that?"
"I outgrew it," he told her, fishing his house key out of his pocket. It was just like how he outgrew the habit of waiting at the window for her to pull up in the driveway. Or how he outgrew that overall feeling of wanting her to come back. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have important work to attend to."
"Schoolwork, I assume?" If she was hurt by his brusqueness, she certainly didn't show it. "I wouldn't want you to slack off on that. Education is important."
He ignored her, stopping at the front door as she shouted towards him, "This is for you, Gerome. I figured I could teach you how to ride her." Gerome scoffed, her? "Minerva, darling. I know how much you loved that name."
He blushed at that, after all, he used to name everything Minerva. His pets, his bicycle, you name it, she was Minerva. "You as well," he added, since she was the reason he loved it to this day. Gods, how he wished she wasn't the reason. His feet resting on the carpet he was fully prepared to close the—wait. "Y-Your stuff?" he stuttered. No. No, this couldn't be happening. She wanted to stay here?
In the blink of an eye she was inside, shutting the door for him. "I said your dad moved the key, and he put it in a clever place too. I have to admit, burying a box in the garden with the key was an excellent choice." The smile was on her face again. "This place looks a lot different than I remember it."
Of course it is, he thought bitterly. The presence of a third person felt suffocating, he wanted her to leave. Still, he was unable to tell her that as she wandered towards the mantle. That little part of him (very, very small) was happy she was here, maybe it was the little kid inside of him glad to see his mother again. It disgusted him.
"You've grown to be quite handsome," she noted, looking at the various pictures that rested atop it. She laughed, oh how it filled the room with joy and he hated it, before adding, "Your cheeks used to be so chubby, and you were so short. Why, you must be as tall as your father now."
"Not yet," he managed to say, a strange feeling resting in his stomach. Just her being there brought up bad memories, like all those years he was the only one to not make a mother's day present. The only one to say his mother wasn't the around to go to school events. The only one to feel so alone in all of it.
Cherche hummed in acknowledgement, even being bold as to pick one of them up.
"Kindergarten graduation," she pointed out. "Frederick cried, if I recall. He wanted to frame your little diploma, he was that proud. Not to say I wasn't… That seems like so long ago."
"Because it was," he grunted, turning his back to her. The thought of his father crying over something as frivolous as that was amusing, after all, this was the man who offered to stitch 'Papa's Pride and Joy' on the back of one of his jackets. Right now he didn't exactly feel like laughing. "I'm going up to my room," he mumbled, making his way to the stairs. He had to get out of there before he said something he would regret.
"Alright, dear." He didn't like her calling him that, or he did. Gerome didn't like all the confusion she brought with her, that much was certain. "I'll get started with dinner. You still like pasta, don't you? Oh, and don't forget to take off those sunglasses!"
But he was already gone.
alright alright alright I'm back with another fic/one shot maybe! All my chaptered stories have ended badly and been deleted, but I actually read care about this and Gerome is absolutely my favorite child so? who knows I've got a bit of the next chapter ready
but aaanyway, Cherche/Freddy is like. otp level and u can't have an otp without destroying them & their family first hehehe. Feel free to share thoughts, point out spelling errors, or just talk about gerome and how he is best child 5ever
names this after a years & years song tbh