Work Text:
Monday 06:00 a.m.
Peter wakes up to a contrast of noises.
One, of birds chirping, two, of his inexplicably annoying alarm clock, and three, of a collection of parents yelling at their children to get ready for school.
He rolled on his bed with a groan and covered his ears with pillows and layers of blankets. just as his eyes were about to roll back to the darkness of his skull, a knock was heard, a faint sound of a woman calling him, and the click of his door opening.
“Peter”
He recognized it as his mother’s voice. she came into his room, and clicked a button on the alarm. The room was silent for a split second, something he missed dearly in the past couple of months.
“Peter, i know it’s hard, but couldn’t you at least try to feel better? you can’t stay home forever you know, you’re going to need to come out of the house eventually”. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of his room, why would he? It’s not like there’s anything that he wants to do for the rest of the day “Just let me stay in today, please? i promise I’ll come to school tomorrow” he pleaded. “You stayed home last week, you can’t just skip school like it doesn’t matter”. It doesn’t, he thought, at least not anymore.
Peter curled even further into the depths of his bed, he didn’t feel like putting on an act today.
“Peter”
He can hear his mother sighing. She touched her son’s arm, but felt his muscles tense, and took it as a sign that he doesn’t want to interact.
“I guess i got my answer, but make sure to catch up with your studies okay?”
“Yes, mom” he replied lazily from underneath his layer of blankets.
Just as she was about to close the door, she stopped and opened it.
“Hey, peter? maybe you should try writing to her again, it might help”
she then left with a sound of a click from Peter’s door and her footsteps getting further away from his room.
Peter sat up on his bed and kicked his covers down “Maybe i should write to her today” he said to himself. Peter walked to his desk and took out a pen and paper “but what would i write?” he stopped midways and thought about what he should write. “Maybe about what happened to her favorite author? Or about chris? Or maybe, me?”
“Well, here goes nothing”
Monday, September 17th, 2018
To Lara Jean Song-Covey
I miss you