Chapter Text
Your mother always told you that you had your father’s intense blue eyes and thick sharp eyebrows. You didn’t know how to feel about that. But everytime you’d see an interview about him or him walking the red carpet at an event, you could see it. It felt strange yet… comforting.
You sat in between your mother’s legs as the TV played the high society event as you felt your mother’s fingers intertwine the braids of your hair. You flinched a couple times when she braided too tightly but then quickly recovered.
As your mother braided your hair, you looked down as what you were working on.
“What do you have there, Y/N?” Your mother’s honey voice broke into your concentration.
Your blue eyes remained focused on your lap. The device you held was long and bulky—with wheels on both sides. “Oh, I’m trying to upgrade my skateboard.”
“Really?” Your mother also remained focus braiding your hair.
“Yeah, I wanna see if I can add rockets to my baby—so I can go anywhere. Maybe even the skies??”
Your mother stopped braiding as you felt her eyes on her. “Honestly I believe it’s a grand idea but… is this about failing your driver’s test?”
“…” you didn’t say anything and continued with your work.
“Oh (Y/N).. I understand you feel a certain type of way but—“
“It’s okay mom, I’ll figure something out. Driving.. it’s not for me. So that’s why I’ll try to get around some type of way. Maybe a rocket skateboard”
Your mother sighed and smiled, “or maybe some rocket shoes?”
“Yeah! That too!”
And with that, you two simply laughed.
—-
When she was finished with your hair, you had long braids that stopped to your lower back. Something that could last a good while.
You looked in the mirror and saw your reflection with your mother standing behind you. Her hands grasping your shoulders and staring in the mirror with you. Her long kinky starlight hair tied back in a puffball with a warm smile.
“You look so beautiful, my dear Y/N. I just know this new life will be great!”
—-
It rained a lot in Gotham. You could barely see the stars at night too. Because it was always hidden by dark stormy grey clouds.
Everything smelt bad—even on the rich side.
It rained a lot.
Even at her funeral.
You disassociated when the pastor read Psalms as a few others bowed their heads in respect.
Despite you being the only blood relative, everybody else was from Gotham Publication—the company that had you and your mother move all the way out here.
Your gaze was intense and your fists were balled up in anger and sadness.
She.. looked so peaceful. She looked as if she was sleeping. As if she could wake up any moment.
But she didn’t.