(Hockey Bxb) Whistle In The Wind -𝐕𝐈-

╔══《”Couldn’t really love you 》══╗
anymore, you’ve become my ceiling.”

       Shit! Lucien cursed, failing for the third time to put his contact in his left eye. At this point, he had climbed on the vanity, pressing his face an inch away from the large mirror. His pointer finger was soaked with contact solution, the contact sliding off the slippery surface.

       “Ugh!” he groaned. Frustrated, he accepted defeat. Huffing, he placed the contact back into the capsule, and moved to grab the one already in his right eye out. Finally, he hopped off the counter and picked up his glasses. The glasses are square shaped, the corners slightly rounded, and made of tortoiseshell patterned translucent plastic.

       He got the same pair every year, since he barely wore them anymore.

       Slowly, he trudged out of the bathroom and downstairs, remembering his mom had woken him up for a reason. “Ma,” he called out over music playing.

       It was Saturday which ultimately meant one thing: cleaning day. Every Saturday Luc’s mom plays shitty music while dancing around the house cleaning. And somehow, every week, she involves her son.

       Whether it’s yard work, scrubbing the toilet, or heavy labor, Lucien always had to contribute. It’s like I’m a worker, except I’m not getting paid. I should ask for a higher allowance. He grinned at the genius idea, finally reaching the bottom of the carpeted steps.

       The music wafted through the house. Like Hansel and Gretel following a trail of breadcrumbs, Luc followed the sound of the music until it led him to the kitchen.

       “Maaa,” he complained. The kitchen was always the worst. She pulled everything out of the fridge and reorganized all the cabinets. Rooms like the kitchen were only cleaned once a month. It’s already been a month? Lucien internally whined.

       “There you are! I was thinking you probably fell back asleep!” his mom exclaimed, standing with her hands on her hips. She was a short woman, with shoulder length, wavy chocolate brown hair. She had knee pads on, indicating she planned on scrubbing the floors. “Ready to help with the kitchen today?” she smirked, patting her son’s shoulder.

       Giving her a look of fake disgust, Lucien knew he had no choice but to agree. He had made the mistake of saying no to his mom before, a mistake he learned to regret. She was a kind woman, but fierce, and scary when she wanted to be.

       “Alright Ma, give me one minute,” he obliged, grabbing his phone out from his pocket. Opening His and Aksel’s messages, he sent his best friend a text.

       Lucien: Wanna come over today i need help cleaning and u know how mom gets on saturdays lmao

       Swiping out of Aksel’s texts, his finger hovered over the next most recent text. Vál hadn’t opened or replied to his text yet. He’s probably still asleep. Lucien decided. He definitely doesn’t have a crazy mom to wake him up early on the weekends. Trying not to dwell on Vál’s parents, Lucien placed his phone back in the pocket of the hoodie he had thrown over his body on the way down the stairs.

       Luc didn’t know much about Váli and Aksel’s parents. He knew they were never around, only having met them less than three times, each time being brief glances when they arrived home. Shaking his head, as if to clear the thought from his mind, Lucien’s attention was brought back to the kitchen.

       His mom was now holding a pair of knee pads out to her son. “Are you kidding me,” he groaned, slouching over.

       “No, I’m not kidding,” she grinned, “Come on, don’t be shy,” she teased while waving the pads in front of Lucien.

       “I almost got a concussion, and I’m still being forced to bend over on the floor,” Lucien whined, while reluctantly sliding the black knee pads over his feet and into position.

       “Who’s your girlfriend,” his mom asked.

       “You know I don’t have one.”

       “Perfect! You seem to have fine memory. That means no concussion, which means you’re fine and need to stop complaining. Come on! Less whining, more scrubbing,” she cheered.

       “Come on, Ma. That was just mean,” Luc pouted.

       “Sorry honey,” his mom said, giving him an apologetic look. “I do need you to move all the furniture off the wall though!” she chattered, switching her mood instantly.

       “Finee.” Luc advanced into the kitchen, beginning to pull the fridge away from the wall. Huffing, he slowly pulled and pushed the large item. Eventually, it was a foot off the wall. Enough for his mom to stick the vacuum behind it.

       Clapping, his mom thanked him with a pat on his back before grabbing the vacuum and skipping over to the fridge. The two continued in silence. An hour later, Lucien had disassembled the inside of the fridge. He cleaned the shelves before sorting out old food. He also scrubbed and waxed the countertops. At some point, he had ran upstairs to exchange his thick gray hoodie for a black tank-top.

       Despite it being the dead of winter, the house was boiling. Not only was the heat cranked up to combat the Pennsylvanian temperatures, but the physical labor had both Luc and his mom sweating.

       Currently, his mom was hidden in the pantry. Occasionally, she would throw expired or unused food into the main kitchen. Then, Lucien would collect it in a trash bag. When he wasn’t collecting the thrown goods, he was mopping.

       He was on his hands and knees, a bucket of water next to him. A rag in his hand as he wiped the floor. With each swipe, a streak of dirt appeared on the towel. The once clear, soapy water had since turned brown.

       He was fully immersed in his job, the early 2,000’s radio station playing softly on a speaker sitting on the counter.

       “You know you can tell me,” his mom spoke, breaking the silence.

       “Tell you what,” Lucien asked, lifting his head.

       “If you have a girlfriend,” his mom responded, poking her head out the pantry to look at her son. “Or a boyfriend…or just someone,” she hesitated sheepishly.

       “Um,” Lucien faltered, not knowing what to say. Why would she include that? Does she think I’m… “Ma, there’s nobody…” he urged. However, as he trailed off he had a thought. Am I trying to convince mom that, or myself?

       “It would be okay if there was,” his mom reassured, now standing completely in the kitchen.

       “I know that! Why wouldn’t it be okay…” he wavered.

       “Okay honey, I’ll get off your back,” she smiled, “Just know I’m here. No judgment.” As she said her last sentence, she made direct eye contact with Lucien. Her eyes were warm, as if they were trying to tell Lucien it was okay. It was okay if…

       “Okay, okay, back to work ma,” Luc urged, suddenly not in the mood to talk. He shuddered. A chill traveling down his spine, causing him to shiver at the sensation. “I gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a sec,” he weakly said before sluggishly trailing to the hallway bathroom.

       Once inside, he turned the sink on. Washing his hands once. Then twice. Then three times. He scrubbed and scrubbed. His hands had turned raw, but he kept scrubbing. It wasn’t until his hands had begun to bleed that he stopped.

       Now realizing his heart rate had quickened, he tried to ground himself. Stop being a baby. You’re overreacting over nothing.

       Over nothing…nothing happened.

       Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened–

…

       Slowly, the world around Lucien became more and more clear. As he blinked, his blurry vision took in the room around him. It was his. He knew from the faint outline of the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. Someone had placed his glasses over his nose, he observed.

       Groaning, he tried to sit up. His body felt heavy, and for a moment he stopped breathing. His breath was sucked back into his lungs a second later when his best friend shouted, “Finally!”

       He was laying down next to Lucien in bed, snuggled under the covers. Luc’s TV across from his bed was on, currently playing an episode of Hell’s Kitchen. Aksel had made himself comfortable in his best friend’s bed, settling in despite Lucien being unconscious.

       “What…what happened,” Luc mumbled, groggily.

       “Your mom said that after she heard the water running in the bathroom for a while she checked on you and you had fainted!” Aksel cheerfully told Luc.

       “Oh…” Lucien mumbled. “I must’ve been tired. Or it was probably a result of the almost-concussion thingy,” he justified.

       “Probably!”

       Lucien knew he had gotten enough sleep. But he went along with the excuse, knowing if he didn’t he would have to accept something he swore to never acknowledge.

       “What’re you watching?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away.

       “Hell’s Kitchen, season ten,” Aksel replied, his attention unwavering from the screen. “Kimmie’s so fucking annoying.”

       Laughing, Lucien glanced around. His curtains had been opened, revealing the sun halfway down the horizon. I must’ve been out for an hour or so.

       Glancing at the time on his phone, his gaze fell to a text notification. His heart hammered in his chest.

       Váli: dw abt it I was asleep and didnt notice lol you’re up early for a saturday

       The text had been sent thirty minutes ago. Meaning that Váli had woken up around 11:30. He got a lot of sleep, jeez.

       Opening the text, Lucien typed a response quickly. He didn’t want to leave him waiting too long.

       Lucien: 9 is not even early you got so much sleep lmao i forget when u fell asleep but it had to have been around 11

       Continuing the conversation came easy to Luc. He was generally social, and loved talking. He also didn’t mind listening, remembering Vál’s rant on facetime the previous night.

       Is it awkward to ask to facetime again? Or do I just call him without saying something first? Sighing, he leaned his head against the wall.

       “What’s got you twisting your panties?” Aksel questioned, a look of amusement on his face as he watched his best friend.

       “Dude, I don’t think you’re using that phrase right,” Luc laughed.

       “I don’t even know what it means, but you get what I’m saying,” he huffed, turning more of his body toward Luc.

       “Nothings got me twisting my panties,” Luc laughed, “Or whatever it means. I’m just thinking, that’s all.”

       “Well maybe you should stop. Ever think of that?” Aksel smirked, acting like he came up with genius advice.

       “What the fuck does that mean,” Luc cackled. Both boys made eye contact before bursting into laughter.

       “You know what I mean!” Aksel said in between huffs. “Like stop–overthinking–” he laughed.

       After five minutes, both boys were sprawled out on top of the covers. Their hair was tousled, and grins had taken over their faces.

       “I don’t overthink that much, come on!” Lucien defended himself. Pausing he thought about it. “Okay well.”

       “You’re doing it right now!” Aksel hollered, another wave of laughter hitting him.

       “Okay maybe I do, but shut up!” Luc wheezed, turning his body to dramatically face away from Aksel.

       “How about this? We can head over to my house for the rest of the day. You can get out of having to clean, which your mom tried to force me to do by the way, and we can play the new video game I got,” Aksel suggested, slowly getting up from the bed.

       “Sounds good!” Luc cheered, standing up to stretch his legs. “Lead the way,” he smiled, aiming his arm toward the open bedroom door. Following Aksel, Lucien grabbed his phone on the way out.

       Once he was sitting next to his friend in the familiar red truck, he pulled his phone out once more. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see if he had gotten any new notifications. It’s okay if he didn’t respond, it hasn’t even been that long. He has a life, too. He could always be busy.

       Mid thought, his phone vibrated in his hand. Tensing, Lucien slowly opened his eyes. His gaze falling to his phone, his heart stopping…

Question of the chapter: What’s your least favorite household chore?

╚══《Word count- 2,049》══╝

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