I then sighed, deciding to let my mother's smug victory slide for now and instead asked her,
"Fine, whatever...But seriously, Mom, why'd you come all the way here in the middle of a cyclone? You could've just called if you wanted to know how I was doing."
The question seemed to catch her off guard. Her confident expression faltered for a split second, and she glanced to the side, her fingers lightly tapping against her arm.
It was subtle, but I could tell she was scrambling for a response, almost like she couldn't or didn't want to reveal the real reason she'd come.
That only made me more suspicious.
"Mom, I asked you a question." I pressed, narrowing my eyes at her.
"You weren't responding to my messages, Luca." She suddenly straightened up as if struck by inspiration. She then continued saying, her voice a little too casual as she avoided my gaze. "And with the cyclone and all, I was worried that something might've happened to you...You know if you're house had been flooded or if you had been swept away or something."
"Really? That's it?" I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.
For a moment, she looked at me with the confidence of someone who thought they'd just pulled off a flawless excuse.
But then I continued, crossing my arms as I said,
"Mom, I know I didn't message you directly, but I did send a message in the family group chat saying I was fine and prepared. You saw it, didn't you?...Or are you telling me you somehow missed it when have a special notification alert set just for me, just so that you can leap on your phone whenever I send a message even when you're live on TV?"
Her confident facade cracked like thin ice. She blinked, her lips parting as if to counter, but no words came out immediately.
"I—" She started, then paused, her eyes shifting slightly to the side, her obvious sign of being caught off guard.
"Yeah." I said, smirking as I saw her flap around the place. "I sent that message because I knew you'd freak out otherwise. Figured it would save us all from this exact situation...But here you are anyway, braving the storm and for what again?"
Her expression tightened as she gave me a glare that wasn't nearly as intimidating as it usually was. It was clear she was flustered, and for a brief moment, she almost looked...sheepish.
But in true mom fashion, she quickly recovered, straightening her posture and putting on a dignified air.
"Well..." She said, lifting her chin slightly, "Maybe I did see the message. But you know how texts can be—just words on a screen! For all I knew, you could've been typing it with a broken arm or from under a pile of rubble!"
"Oh, come on, Mom. That's too much even for you." I rolled my eyes.
"Look Luca, I wasn't going to sit around wondering, okay? I needed to see for myself that you were alive and well...So excuse me for being a concerned mother." She waved her hand dismissively.
Then, as if she felt boosted by her own justification, she straightened her posture and pointed an accusatory finger at me.
"In fact, I shouldn't even have to explain myself! I'm your mother. If I want to come over to see my son, I shouldn't need a reason. And if you ask me something like that one more time..." Her voice dropped a pitch as she raised an eyebrow"...I'll really twist your ears off, cyclone or not."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. She could be so overbearing sometimes, always bulldozing her way into my life with zero regard for boundaries. But even as I let out that exasperated breath, I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips.
That was just her way...Her relentless, unwavering love wrapped in a tough, no-nonsense exterior. And honestly, it warmed my heart, even as it drove me crazy.
How could it not? Her fierce love, her constant concern, her refusal to ever give up on me—those were the very things that made her so irresistible. It wasn't just her beauty or her charm that captivated me; it was the way she loved so unapologetically, so completely.
"Alright, Mom," I said, giving in with a resigned smile. "You win."
"Of course I'll win." She smirked, crossing her arms confidently. "You're a million years too early to think you can outsmart your mother, who raised you your whole life."
I chuckled softly and nodded...She wasn't wrong.
As much as I hated to admit defeat, she truly had me beat in this arena. She was the one who out of all my mothers who took most care of me after all.
But I wasn't saying that my other mothers weren't present—they absolutely were, each playing an important role in my life. But while they worked tirelessly outside to provide for the family, she was the one who stayed home. She was the mother who was there day in and day out.
From walking me to school every morning, to packing my lunches with little handwritten notes tucked inside, to cleaning up after me when I was too messy or too lazy—she did it all. She was there when I got home, waiting with a smile and a warm meal. She was the one who taught me to tie my shoes, helped me with my homework, and listened to my endless stories about my day.
She was always there...Just for me. And no matter how overbearing or dramatic she could be, I couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude and love for her.
I was too into the conversation that we were having after not meeting each for a while, that I only noticed that my mother was still wet from the rain.
Even though she hadn't been fully drenched by the rain, a few places on her clothes were still damp, and her luscious brown hair clung to her face in places, darkened and slightly frizzed from the moisture...She didn't seem to care, but I did.
"Mom." I called out, my tone firm but soft. "You're still wet. Go dry yourself off and change into something dry before you catch a cold...I don't want to carry you all the way to the hospital in this rain."
"That can wait, Luca...First, I need to see how my son looks after all this time. You think you can hide behind that door all day and not let me get a good look at you?" She waved me off without missing a beat, not even caring about herself whenever I was involved in the picture.
Before I could protest, she stepped closer, her eyes narrowing with intent. Her hands gently cupped my face, tilting it slightly as she studied me with that familiar motherly gaze.
I stiffened...She was too close...Way too close.
Her beautiful face, framed by the damp strands of her chestnut-brown hair, seemed to radiate a soft, natural glow despite the rain outside. Her purple eyes, warm and sharp, held the kind of depth that could simultaneously soothe and pierce through me. Her lips, curved ever so slightly into a thoughtful pout, were captivating in their simplicity. Even the faint droplets clinging to her hair added an ethereal charm, like a goddess stepped out of a summer storm.
My heart skipped a beat, and I felt heat creeping up my neck. I fought hard to keep my cool, swallowing the urge to blush like a lovesick fool. She didn't seem to notice my internal battle, but that only made her beauty more disarming.
"Hmm." She murmured thoughtfully, tilting my head gently to the side. Her gaze swept over me with surprising intensity, lingering just long enough to make me feel as if she could see right through me.
Then, as if speaking more to herself than to me, she said,
"I wanted to say you look thin, or that your skin looks bad from skipping meals and not sleeping enough, Luca, so I could use it as an excuse to drag you back home."
She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scrutinized me further.
And to my surprise and hers, her expression softened, a hint of amazement slipping into her tone as she continued saying, "But you don't. You look...good. No, more than that, you look handsome. Even more charming than the last time I saw you." Her brows furrowed slightly, as though she couldn't quite reconcile this revelation. "It's like you're growing handsomer by the day."
Her words hung in the air, and a quiet satisfaction settled over me. 'Of course, I'm handsome.' I thought. The reflection of her admiration gleamed in my mind as I silently cataloged the details.
My dark hair, tousled and layered, fell just right over my forehead, framing my face in a way that balanced sharpness with a bit of softness. My eyes—striking red—held a subtle intensity, like smoldering embers, giving me an edge that often caught people off guard. My jawline was clean and defined, leading down to the curve of my neck. Even my slightly tanned complexion, smooth and unmarred, seemed to play its part.
'Practically a masterpiece.' I narscisticaly thought with a silent, self-satisfied grin.
My mother's gaze gaze lingered, her hand still resting on my cheek as she looked like she was wondering how that chubby, wide-eyed little baby of hers grew into such a fine young man? The thought tugged at her heart as she studied me.
She also couldn't help but think how I could steal a dozen girls' hearts without even trying, looking at how she was gazing at me with pride and awe.
The warmth in her eyes deepened, and I could tell she was lost in memories. It was a rare look, one I wasn't used to seeing, and it left me momentarily flustered...