Work Text:
The studio was cold as a 9 year old Cheng Xiaoshi sat on the floor near the door waiting for his parents to come home.
He knew the chances of them opening the door tonight was slim to nothing, but he just couldn't give up that easily.
He wore his father's jacket and wrapped himself with his mother's favorite blanket.
The windows rattled as the wind got stronger and the sound of rain grew louder.
Cheng Xiaoshi couldn't understand why they left. His whole life they always said that they loved him, that they would always be there when he had nightmares and would always hug him when he got hurt, and yet they left.
They left him all alone in the empty studio. No note, not even a goodbye.
“Liars” Xiaoshi whispered under his breath, secretly hoping his mom would show up and smack on the back of his head, lecturing how immature it was to mumble rude comments under his breath.
The lecture never came.
No matter how bundled up he was, he remained cold. Curled up, face buried within the jacket and blanket to at least remember their warmth before leaving him alone and cold.
Tears prickled his eyes, he missed them so much.
He was grateful that Qiao Long and her family took him under their wing, but that would never replace the comfort of his own parents.
He knew that the other adults would bad mouth his mom and dad, and even urged the Qiao family to take him to an orphanage, insisting that taking care of an abandoned child was too much work.
There was no sugar coating it.
Because that's what he is
Abandoned.
An orphan.
Cheng Xiaoshi cried. He hugged himself as he cried. The feeling of abandonment hurts so much. Knowing that his very own flesh and blood left without a second thought despite their empty promises of staying with him.
The relentless mocking and bullying of other kids, claiming he was so annoying and that was the reason why they left.
He blamed himself, promising to behave and to stay quiet and to never complain when his mom put veggies on his plate.
He just wanted them back.
.
.
30 minutes passed, the storm hadn't blown over, and Cheng Xiaoshi was still waiting by the door.
He knew that if Qiao Ling opened that door in the morning and found him asleep on the floor again, he would never hear the end of it.
Reluctantly, he got up. Back and legs sore from the position he was at for so long.
He went up the stairs slowly, still peeping at the door hoping it would open to reveal his parents.
Of course that door wouldn't open tonight.
Walking down the hall, his bare feet feeling the cold floor as he headed to his room when a sudden bang of thunder startled him.
Xiaoshi ran to his parents room instead, jumping on the bed and burying himself within the comforters.
He was glad Mrs. Qiao took time out of her day to come by and help dust off and clean the studio because without her, Xiaoshi was sure the place would have been rotting away.
Nothing was ever moved or thrown, so the room stayed exactly how his parents left it.
Cheng Xiaoshi stayed under the covers, covering his ears and shutting his eyes tight. He has always hated thunder, especially during the night when it was all dark.
.
.
Emerging from the covers, Xiaoshi looked around the dark room, with the painful feeling of loneliness.
Surrounded by pillows, an idea hit.
He propped up the pillows against the head board, one on his left and the other one his right, then took the circular decorative pillow; placing it on top of the other pillows.
Then, he got off the bed, careful as to not tumble the tower of pillows down. He grabbed his father's jacket that had fallen to the floor as well as a pair of spare glasses from his nightstand. After he went looking for his mom's favorite shawl and the hat he last remembered her wearing.
He decorated the pillows, almost like a snowman. Wrapping the jacket around the right tower and putting on the glasses, adjusting them so it wouldn't fall. Next he covered the left pillows with his mom's shawl and gently placed the hat on the circular pillow.
“Perfect. Just one more thing.” Cheng Xiaoshi whispered to himself as he rushed to his own room.
He went straight to his own nightstand and unplugged a nightlight projector his dad got him for his last birthday.
Running back to his parents room, he connected the nightlight and turned it on. Showcasing a starry night on the ceiling.
Climbing up the bed, Xiaoshi positioned himself between his pillow parents, bringing the blanket all the way up to his chin.
“Goodnight Mom, goodnight Dad.”
He said snuggling deeper.
But no matter how comfortable he felt.
He cried.
He cried, he sobbed and he wailed.
Until there were no more tears to cry.
Finally sleeping as he tired himself out.