#anne oc

Dragon's Favorite💕

ᴀɴɴᴇ ɪs @wantshimsorely68's ᴏᴄ ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴀɴɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇsᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ sᴍɪᴛʜᴇʀs!! ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴏᴛʜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ғᴜɴ ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴏᴄs ᴀʀᴇ sᴏ ғᴜɴ!!

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There was a small knock on the door - a knock familiar to Gustavo as his mother’s knuckle. Three small taps and a turn of the knob, followed by her soft, quiet voice asking the same thing every night - “Are you going to bed, sweetheart?”

What else would he be doing in his room?

Gustavo hugged his knees on his bed - his cheeks red and eyes still blurry with tears from his crying fit moments ago. Barely even nine years old, and the boy was already growing taller than his friends. Too big to cry anymore as his dad would say to him, and then only make it worse with his shouting.

“What’s wrong, mi vida?” Anne Pinheiro sat with her son and held him to her side. She pet his strands of growing brown hair as he leaned against her - sniffing.

“Papi.”

“Oh…I see…” she pet him softly. He didn’t need to tell her more. She knew Jorge was having a rough time since their son turned nine. Their youngest officially one year older than their oldest Eduardo who was lost in the war. When Gustavo laughed and ate his birthday cake, Anne had to do all she could to keep her son from seeing how his father had to step away and be alone out in the yard.

“Why does Papi hate me?” He asked.

“Papa doesn’t hate you, Gustavo.”

“Yes he does. He’s always yelling at me and embarrasses me in front of my friends. I fell down playing football today and he yelled at me when I scraped my knee because it made me cry.”

Anne looked down at her sons bandaged knee on his right leg. A terrible job that he must have done himself.

“You didn’t go see Julieta Madrigal?” She asked. “She makes good bread for scrapes like this”

One year of those kids having gifts, and already the town was depending on those triplets for everything…

“No…” Gustavo pouted and rubbed his face on his mom’s side…

“Well….I’m no Julieta but…”

Gustavo watched as his mom bent down and kissed his bandaged knee. She sang a lullaby to him from her childhood in Spain, and just like when Gustavo was little, he lied down against his pillow and felt tired from her calming demenour..

“Thank you Mami…” he said quietly.

Anne smiled and leaned over to hug her son. “No matter how big you get, you’re my baby. You can always come to me to cry and I’ll make you feel better.” She kissed his forehead. “Okay?”

Gustavo nodded as his mom tucked him into bed and let him drift off to sleep.