[She exhales sharply at that, a small, silent noise of frustration at how headstrong he is being. She catches the little flinch he makes, the bizarre aversion to touch, from his own mother! As if she would ever do a thing to harm him or deliberately make him uncomfortable. She smoothes her hand over his hair, affectionately petting him, but the sugary sweetness in her voice hides an bitter strength. Stubbornness, after all, runs in the blood.]
It's not about what you want, dear. It's about what's best for you.
[She touches him with more intimacy than a parent should touch her child. But doesn't that just show how much love she holds in her heart for him? Her world is nothing without him, and in this state of wrecked despair, he needs her more than ever, even if she must make the decision for him.
She pulls away, at last, still leaning over him but perhaps not so close. Having already closed the conversation in her mind, she reaches down to give his hand a pleased little squeeze, her warm fingers pressing over where it rests on his thigh.]
You're coming to stay with me.
[After all, there is no option for defiance in her perfect world, with her perfect son.]
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It's not about what you want, dear. It's about what's best for you.
[She touches him with more intimacy than a parent should touch her child. But doesn't that just show how much love she holds in her heart for him? Her world is nothing without him, and in this state of wrecked despair, he needs her more than ever, even if she must make the decision for him.
She pulls away, at last, still leaning over him but perhaps not so close. Having already closed the conversation in her mind, she reaches down to give his hand a pleased little squeeze, her warm fingers pressing over where it rests on his thigh.]
You're coming to stay with me.
[After all, there is no option for defiance in her perfect world, with her perfect son.]