❝Mother thinks so.❞ He smiles ruefully, a shade of worry in his eyes. ❝Sh— she thinks you’ve overstayed your welcome. But— but I don’t think that! Oh, no, I think you’ve been wonderful to have around.❞
❝—- By receiving the chance to.❞ She swallowed hard, her throat painfully dry. Marion clenched her hands at her sides, balling the fabric of her skirt into her fists and wrinkling the fabric. ❝Does she expect you to stay here, tending to her and to this unfortunately dying motel until one or both of you are driven into the ground?
It’s not fair.❞
❝It is fair. It is.❞ Furiously, his mind worked, piecing together the words that had kept him going these long ten years. ❝Mother took care of me, now I do the same for her. She needs that – me – because she has no one else.❞ Abruptly, Norman stood, his knees pushing painfully against the coffee table between them. It moved away from him, scratching against the floor and groaning. ❝I– I think I was wrong. I th– think it’s time for you to go now, miss.❞ High above her, he could look down and glare, angry and confused.
❝Mother thinks so.❞ He smiles ruefully, a shade of worry in his eyes. ❝Sh— she thinks you’ve overstayed your welcome. But— but I don’t think that! Oh, no, I think you’ve been wonderful to have around.❞
The colour drained from Marion’s face, save for splotches of red against rounded cheeks. She swallowed thickly, a difficult knot in her throat and a tightness to her lips. ❝I’m sorry if upset you. I’m trying to understand.❞
——– ❝No one ever does.❞ His upper-lip twitched, penetrating eyes never leaving the very much b r e a k a b l e woman in front of him. ❝How could someone like you possibly start?❞
❝Mother thinks so.❞ He smiles ruefully, a shade of worry in his eyes. ❝Sh— she thinks you’ve overstayed your welcome. But— but I don’t think that! Oh, no, I think you’ve been wonderful to have around.❞
She wanted to point out that this was a motel, and his mother had no real say in how long a stay would be deemed too long. She wasn’t the manager, and Norman was. It was entirely up to him, and whenever Marion herself felt it was time to move on.
❝Ifeel like your mother enjoys keeping you alone.❞ she kept her tone light, but her gaze was probing, careful. White hands clasped themselves over a skirted lap, and Marion pursed her lips. ❝Or at least to herself.❞
Norman stiffened. ❝My Mother has always done her best to look after me, to keep me safe. She does what she does out of love.❞ A look of contempt washed over his features, and focused solely on her. ❝Someone like you wouldn’t understand. No one ever understands. But that’s not our fault – it’s theirs.❞
Send me “ஜ” to see my muses reaction to yours asking for sex
Shock nearly t o p p l e s him over. Norman stares and stares, teeth working the inside of his cheek like it was a piece of candy corn. Fingers fiddle with the edges of his coat.
❝Oh no, it’s not the motel. Everything is perfectly lovely here.❞ Marion paused, chewing anxiously upon her lower lip until she realized just what her words were implying. ❝It’s not you either. It’s just… well, it’s me.❞
She sighed, her hands working for a few moments before she forced them to rest at her sides. They balled into tight fists, her knuckles white and jagged as nails dug into the tender flesh of her palms. Her eyes darted around, taking in the walls, and the carpeting, the single long crack in the plastered ceiling before falling onto Norman.
❝I’m not good for this place. Especially with your ailing mother.❞
—- His hands twitched, before tightening together. Her. Something wrong with her. It almost made him want to giggle, to laugh hysterically. She looked far too pretty to have anything wrong with her, and pretty girls always had everything so easy, so simple for them. That’s what people said, especially in the books he managed to sneak past Mother.
❝She’s not really as bad as this. It’s only been… a very bad week for her, that’s all. She– she can be very calm, very docile, especially when she wants to be.❞
XQ