theatrical_muse
#314 - Write about a memorable family meal
Lee was not much older than Zak when he first started noticing the small things he missed when he was younger: a missing figure at the head of the table, the precariously placed bottle of Ambrosia, the slurred syllables of his mother’s angry tirade about a husband’s inability to be home on time and the rapidly cooling meal that neither himself or Zak could eat because their mother had forbidden from touching it until their father was home.
Fat chance, not that Lee voiced that particular opinion, his mother was already straddling the line separating sober from totally wasted - he wasn’t going to be the one who pushed her over it, he’d never hear the end of it.
Unfortunately Zak hadn’t caught on like Lee and he reached out to steal a potato, barely getting it near his mouth when their mother was on him, long fingers curled around his wrist, nails biting into skin. “What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed, eyes narrowed into angry slits, green liquid sloshing free of the glass clasped in her other hand.
Lee moved quicker than he ever thought possible, extracting his mother’s talon-like nails from around his younger brother’s wrist. “He’s just hungry,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t he eat if he’s hungry?”
“Not until your father is home!” She snapped, wrenching her hand free of Lee’s grip. “Wouldn’t want him to come home to an empty table, Gods forbid. None of us would hear the end of it, not from the great Adama.”
“That’s not Zak’s fault,” Lee responded as he could practically feel Zak shrinking in his seat. “He’ll just eat enough for himself, I don’t think dad would begrudge him that.”
This inspired a hyena-like cackle from his mother who took great joy in swallowing a mouthful of alcohol. “Oh, of course not! He has paid for it after all. Spends enough time telling me all about how hard he works for everything we have.” She glanced at the children and snorted. “Fine, eat, but you’ll deal with your father when he comes home.” There was a pause and another swallow of alcohol. “If he comes home that is.”
“Fine,” Lee muttered as he turned back to Zak and started to serve him some food, reassuring him that it was okay and dad wouldn’t mind. It was only when he was sure Zak had enough that Lee allowed his attention to drift to the angry mumbling of his mother and the crashing of cutlery and china as she took out her frustration on the kitchen. Again.
Zak looked in the direction of the kitchen and Lee just offered him a smile. “It’s okay, Zak. Mom’s… She’s just a little- There’s nothing to worry about.” He swept some of Zak’s hair back and ruffled it a moment later, directing his attention back to the food. “Go on, dig in, before it gets cold.”
Once Zak was settled and eating happily, Lee braced his shoulders and entered the proverbial lion’s den otherwise known as the kitchen, in the hopes that he might be able to stop his mother from wrecking everything and drinking herself into oblivion.
Nothing like a good old fashioned family meal to make you feel more grown up than your supposed parents.
Muse : Lee "Apollo" Adama
Fandom : Battlestar Galactica
Word Count : 553
Lee was not much older than Zak when he first started noticing the small things he missed when he was younger: a missing figure at the head of the table, the precariously placed bottle of Ambrosia, the slurred syllables of his mother’s angry tirade about a husband’s inability to be home on time and the rapidly cooling meal that neither himself or Zak could eat because their mother had forbidden from touching it until their father was home.
Fat chance, not that Lee voiced that particular opinion, his mother was already straddling the line separating sober from totally wasted - he wasn’t going to be the one who pushed her over it, he’d never hear the end of it.
Unfortunately Zak hadn’t caught on like Lee and he reached out to steal a potato, barely getting it near his mouth when their mother was on him, long fingers curled around his wrist, nails biting into skin. “What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed, eyes narrowed into angry slits, green liquid sloshing free of the glass clasped in her other hand.
Lee moved quicker than he ever thought possible, extracting his mother’s talon-like nails from around his younger brother’s wrist. “He’s just hungry,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t he eat if he’s hungry?”
“Not until your father is home!” She snapped, wrenching her hand free of Lee’s grip. “Wouldn’t want him to come home to an empty table, Gods forbid. None of us would hear the end of it, not from the great Adama.”
“That’s not Zak’s fault,” Lee responded as he could practically feel Zak shrinking in his seat. “He’ll just eat enough for himself, I don’t think dad would begrudge him that.”
This inspired a hyena-like cackle from his mother who took great joy in swallowing a mouthful of alcohol. “Oh, of course not! He has paid for it after all. Spends enough time telling me all about how hard he works for everything we have.” She glanced at the children and snorted. “Fine, eat, but you’ll deal with your father when he comes home.” There was a pause and another swallow of alcohol. “If he comes home that is.”
“Fine,” Lee muttered as he turned back to Zak and started to serve him some food, reassuring him that it was okay and dad wouldn’t mind. It was only when he was sure Zak had enough that Lee allowed his attention to drift to the angry mumbling of his mother and the crashing of cutlery and china as she took out her frustration on the kitchen. Again.
Zak looked in the direction of the kitchen and Lee just offered him a smile. “It’s okay, Zak. Mom’s… She’s just a little- There’s nothing to worry about.” He swept some of Zak’s hair back and ruffled it a moment later, directing his attention back to the food. “Go on, dig in, before it gets cold.”
Once Zak was settled and eating happily, Lee braced his shoulders and entered the proverbial lion’s den otherwise known as the kitchen, in the hopes that he might be able to stop his mother from wrecking everything and drinking herself into oblivion.
Nothing like a good old fashioned family meal to make you feel more grown up than your supposed parents.
Muse : Lee "Apollo" Adama
Fandom : Battlestar Galactica
Word Count : 553