When he really had to, Metody was capable of getting out of bed at the first sound of the alarm. He'd done it today, scrambling first to his brief shower and then out the door, bound for his own world with gifts of fruit and trinkets in tow
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He padded out out into the living room, and smiled somewhat shyly as he offered the package over. "Happy Mother's Day, uncle Met. I got a present for you."
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"Oh - you did?"
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He fidgets. "I know I got you flowers last year, but um-- I saw this and I thought it was really something you'd like. So... sorry there's no flowers."
He wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, but uncle Met didn't look happy about the present - it must have been the lack of flowers.
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He'd gotten pretty good at accepting his role in the family and Val's life, he'd thought. Not perfect - he'd fled to his home as much to hide as to see his Mom - but good. The aching disappointment and the torn attachment had scabbed over.
Getting a present was like ripping off the scab. It hurt, and he felt an edge of contempt towards himself for that hurt that made it all the worse. He looked down at the package, turning it around and around as if he was searching for where to open it.
"I just- just didn't expect this. Thankyou. It's very nice of you. Thankyou."
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