Just prompts: Song
You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you
Dia really loved waking up next to him. She wasn't quite sure why. Max should be everything that a good little girl runs away from, but she found herself irresistibly drawn to him. To his charming grin and his snarky comments and the absolute lovely way he made her body sing. He was exactly the type of boy that her mother would hate. She could hear the lecture now.
"Claudia Susan Gates-Jones, how dare you do this to me, to your father and the family...how dare you shame us so?"
She rubbed a hand across her face tiredly. There was a reason that she communicated mostly with Sam these days. The fight with her mother had reached epic proportions and they'd stopped speaking to each other.
Her mother had been against her going to school, living on her own, not being the perfect little socialite and making a brilliant match and having two children and being an excellent member of society. Her almost -marriage to Barry had been the only thing she'd done right according to her, and look how that turned out, Dia mused. She looked back down at the sleeping man beside her. So different from Barry, Max was a million times over the man Barry hadn't been. Not that her mother would ever see that.
She'd never see how happy Max made her daughter or how they kinda completed each other in a weird way. How the day just seemed better when he was with her.
Sam would get it. He'd grumble and he'd growl, but he'd get it. Simon...her biological Dad would get it. He'd also grumble and growl and posture, but he wanted her to be happy. Most of all that's what he wanted, no matter who with. Carolina...Mom got it more than Dad did (being the more persceptive one sometimes). All of them understood and were willing to let her be herself, willing to give Max a chance.
Mother...would never get it. And that hurt most days. Dia laid back down, curling herself around Max's body. Maybe one day, Mother'd come around.
Maybe.
Dia really loved waking up next to him. She wasn't quite sure why. Max should be everything that a good little girl runs away from, but she found herself irresistibly drawn to him. To his charming grin and his snarky comments and the absolute lovely way he made her body sing. He was exactly the type of boy that her mother would hate. She could hear the lecture now.
"Claudia Susan Gates-Jones, how dare you do this to me, to your father and the family...how dare you shame us so?"
She rubbed a hand across her face tiredly. There was a reason that she communicated mostly with Sam these days. The fight with her mother had reached epic proportions and they'd stopped speaking to each other.
Her mother had been against her going to school, living on her own, not being the perfect little socialite and making a brilliant match and having two children and being an excellent member of society. Her almost -marriage to Barry had been the only thing she'd done right according to her, and look how that turned out, Dia mused. She looked back down at the sleeping man beside her. So different from Barry, Max was a million times over the man Barry hadn't been. Not that her mother would ever see that.
She'd never see how happy Max made her daughter or how they kinda completed each other in a weird way. How the day just seemed better when he was with her.
Sam would get it. He'd grumble and he'd growl, but he'd get it. Simon...her biological Dad would get it. He'd also grumble and growl and posture, but he wanted her to be happy. Most of all that's what he wanted, no matter who with. Carolina...Mom got it more than Dad did (being the more persceptive one sometimes). All of them understood and were willing to let her be herself, willing to give Max a chance.
Mother...would never get it. And that hurt most days. Dia laid back down, curling herself around Max's body. Maybe one day, Mother'd come around.
Maybe.