Lati’s Delusions ⭐️

His producer's words danced in his foggy brain. Said fog being every minor and major detail of you. Your time with him. When he actually had you. Before you left him to all his darkness.

"What do you mean we're not exclusive?" Your face was etched into his memory from that night.

He pressed his palms into his hollow eye sockets. It wasn't right. Nothing was ever right about the way he treated you. Nothing will ever be right after you left him either.

"It means we're not. We never discussed that, anyway" he recalled the way he justified why he was at a club, kissing some random girl when you were his absolute everything the preceding months.

He clearly remembers how his heart beat for you. Just you. He never ran under the night rain in Boston with anyone, let alone a girl. But he did that with you. And he remembered every micro detail. Your loud laughter, your hand in his, the way you kissed him back when he did as cars honked and angry drivers screamed.

"Go fuck yourself, Morgan" your tone was bitter. Poisonous. Hell, it was lethal even. But he saw through that. Because you weren't any girl. You weren't anyone to him and it was terrifying. So terrifying that he tried to kiss someone else. Tried to convince himself that he wasn’t actually in love with you.

He saw how hurt you were. How broken and used you felt. He felt it too. He did what he thought was right. He thought what he said was the truth. But it wasn’t.

Just as he found out he won't ever be able to kiss or touch anyone else, you were already running out of that club, teary eyed and shoulders shaking. He didn't call after you, too stunned by the realization that you did come along. The love of his life, but you were also running away. As you should.

He never got to tell you. All the ways you made him feel. It was new. All new and unfamiliar and unexpected that he messed it all up. Didn't know your worth and let you leave because you didn't deserve that. Not him. Not his behaviors or immaturity.

But as he sat on that stool, his open, empty notebook waiting to be filled with words about trucks and happy fields, all he could think of was how you were the only one that sat and listened. You hugged him so tight when he cried in front of you the first time, not asking a single question as he let it all out on your shoulder.

You picked him up after that bar fight when he got really drunk. You weren't happy about it, but that wasn't the first thing you said.

"You're okay?" He remembers your wide eyes, looking into his blue ones as your hands cupped his face, turning it both ways to check for any injuries.

All that, just for him to treat you like everybody else. Made you feel like all those girls after his fame and money. The girls that would kiss him and would be gone come morning. The girls that would never be able to tell him what his favorite beer was or how much he loved his mom.

He wiped his face with his trembling hands. He fucked up. He fucked up so bad. His heart was twisting and aching beyond humanely bearable. He let out a shaky breath, shook his head, and finally grabbed the pen and notebook.

"This is what's it all about!" He yelled, windows of his truck down, letting the whirlwind all in. You sat next to him in the passenger's seat, smiling so big that it hurt.

"What are you doing!" He laughed loudly when you suddenly started climbing out the window, sitting on the edge, your cowboy booted feet resting on the seat.

"Hell yeah! This is what's it all about!" You screamed at the top of your lungs. Morgan laughed so hard he almost swerved off the road.

He threw his pen down. There was no way he could write a single happy song to please his label. Not when all he could feel was his heart breaking, twisting, and bruising. Not when he let go of the only girl that has ever known him and stuck around for who he really was. Listened to his worries, laughed at his jokes, and took care of him. Always. Every time.

“Fuck” he groaned, wishing to be able to erase his memories. But that was worse than being in all that pain. His life didn’t actually start until he met you anyway. And now that you left it, it was on pause all over again.

The notebook page stayed empty, all the ones before it full of heart wrenching pain and confessions of love that you never got to hear, but fully deserved. By the time you you get to hear them, he knew that you’d be over him. Over highway speeding in his truck and cleaning his wounds after a stupid bar fight. He knew that. He wanted it.

Someone else you tried to avoid at all costs was his family. Specifically his mother. She never was fond of you. Accusing you of all sorts of things ever since you started dating her son. Calling you a gold digger, someone who only pretended to he in love with her son because of all his fame and money.

But even his mother didn't know Kylian like you did. She didn't know that he loved cooking. She had no idea that dancing under the stars made his eyes sparkle, or that driving was the best way to relieve his stress.

Just like everybody else, she saw him as a guy passionate and extremely talented with football. The brightest star in everyone's world, but no one saw how you were the brightest in his world.

You, Kylian, his brother Eathan, and their parents got in the car to go home. Kylian rode in the passenger seat while his father drove. You, Ethan, and his mother rode in the back. You still kept your eyes on Kylian, not baring to see him this broken.

He was just telling you how important his best friend was to him, just to lose him in a car crash a few weeks later. He wasn't crying, though. He never did. You hated that. You always told him to cry. That it's bad to keep emotions unprocessed. He never listened, though.

Not able to look at his stone face any longer, you looked out the wet car window to the French streets on your way to his family home. Your mind drifted to all the unnecessary drama his mother would stir because of your stay with them for the coming days. You didn't want Kylian to worry about that. You sighed quietly, already earning a glare from her that you managed to ignore.

When his father parked in the drive way, everyone got out of the car and dragged themselves to the front door. The atmosphere was suffocating. You held everything in as much as you could. It was Kylian who lost his best friend after all. You had to be there for him.

While his family walked in, he waited for you, looking back at you from the top of the porch steps with a slightly outstretched hand. You got to him, took his hand, and squeezed it. You glanced in his direction, but he had already looked ahead, guiding you upstairs to his bedroom.

You feel his family's eyes on the two of you as you passed them to the stairs. You didn't care. This wasn't about your relationship or about you. This was about Kylian and his well being. So you just followed him, holding his hand more tightly.

You get to his bedroom and he pushes the door behind the two of you. You stood by it, watching your boyfriend's every move. He sat on his bed, hands intertwined between his spread legs. You watched him closely as you slowly made your way to him. He didn't look at you once and you took it as a sign to keep going.

You finally sat next to him. You didn't say a single thing. You weren't sure if you were even breathing at that point.

"He's gone, y/n" Kylian finally said softly. Your heart shattered into pieces and his eyes flooded.

You uncontrollably pulled him into you, wrapping your arms around his head that he buried into your chest. His sobs slowly got louder and deeper, tearing you into shreds. You quietly held him tight, letting him cry it all out.

Behind the not fully shut door of Kylian's room, his mother stood, watching you hold on to him as he cried into your chest. She never saw his guard this down. She's never seen her own son be this vulnerable with anyone ever. She's never seen anyone hold him the way you did either. Something about the scene softened a part of her cold heart towards you. She started questioning who you really were to him and how you felt towards her son.

A few hours pass and you had managed to convince Kylian to lie down. He rested his head on your lap as you stroked his head to sleep. You allowed yourself to shed a few tears, unable to keep it together anymore.

His mother still watched, checking on the both of you through the slit in the door. Seeing this new scene only made the warmth spread through her heart. However, she quickly walked away when she saw you get up, slowly lifting Kylian's head off your lap to not disturb his sleep. 

You realized that Kylian hadn't eaten anything all day. You headed to the kitchen to make him something for when he wakes up. The bottom floor felt empty, having no one there. You wondered where everybody went, but you didn't give it much thought.

You opened the fridge, assessing the contents to get ideas of what you could make. You quickly looked behind you, though, having heard footsteps. You realize it's Kylian's mother. She had walked into the kitchen and sat on one of the kitchen island stools.

For a second, you stood there, watching her as you waited for her to attack you like she always did. She never wasted a chance to remind you of how she felt towards you. To falsely accuse you of all sorts of things. But when she didn't say anything, you turned back around to open the fridge.

You pulled out some turkey slices to make him a sandwich. You placed the ingredients on the kitchen island, Kylian's mother still watching you from across it. You focused on your task, careful not to trigger your boyfriend's mother who was scrutinizing your every move.

"Making food?" She finally spoke as you spread mayonnaise on one side of the white bread.

"For Kylian. He didn't eat anything since last night" you answered quietly, not looking at her. She still looked at you, though. Your heart picked up its pace, but you still avoided her gaze. You walked to the glasses cabinet, pulled out a glass and filled it with water.

After putting everything on a tray, you walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You got to Kylian's room and placed the tray on his bedside table. You sat on the edge of his bed, looking at his sleeping face.

"Y/n?" He stirred. You stroked his face.

"Yes, my love?" You whispered. He opened his eyes, and pulled you closer to him. You lied down next to him and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, kissing the top of your head.

You lied there. You let him hold you for as long as he wanted. You spent the night like that. None of you said anything. It was enough for him that he got to hold you. And it was enough for you that he did.

His mother watched all of it. How calm he was with you around. How he cried in your chest. The food you made for him because he hadn't eaten since the night before. She couldn't deny it anymore. You loved her son. More than she ever thought you could. And not for all the materialistic things that came with dating someone with a career like his.

She was sure of her son's feelings for you, how much you meant to him, because he never cried. She always thought he hated turkey sandwiches, but there he was eating it because you insisted, which also surprised her because ever since he was little, he never ate when he got sad or upset.

She watched you through the slightly opened door. She looked at the way you were looking at him. She wasn't sure if she, herself, ever looked at him like that.

"What are you smiling at?" She heard her husband whisper behind her. He looked at his son laughing for the first time in a week as you brushed bread crumbs from around his mouth.

Later that night, you walked down to the kitchen to fill a jug of water for the night you were spending. You weren't going to leave Kylian on a night like that.

His mother walked into the kitchen and sat on an island stool like she did earlier. You still ignored her presence and were on your way out of the kitchen when she called your name. You shut your eyes for a second before turning around to face her.

"Yes?" You replied cautiously. Even with the way she treated you, she was still Kylian's mother whom he loved and cherished more than anything. It killed you, but you had to respect her through everything she said and done to you. And it was about time she realized that.

You were taken aback by how soft her eyes were as she patted the seat next to her, inviting you to sit next to her at the kitchen island. You hesitated for a second before slowly making your way to the stool, setting the water jug in front of you.

You watched her closely, anticipating her next move. She just stared at her hands, though, sighing deeply before she turned to look at you.

"I owe you an apology" she broke the deafening silence. She shocked you so hard you almost fell out of your stool. You tried controlling you expressions, but you clearly failed because she quickly elaborated.

"I, I don't know how to start, honestly" she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. You just sat there in utter shock.

"Let's just say you've been absolutely supportive and I can tell that you've been an intangible source of comfort to Kylian ever since his best friend's passing" she went on. You pierced your lips and nodded once, looking at your hands in your lap. Silence took over for a few seconds before she kept going.

"I can tell he loves you a lot and..." she trailed off and you looked back at her.

"I'm actually really grateful to have someone like you in his life, given his career and all that comes with it, and especially during a hard time like this" she confessed and you couldn't help but tear up a little.

You smiled slightly at her and she did the same. You both stayed like that for a little while before she opened her arms. You laughed lightly and jumped off your stool to wrap your arms around her. She hugged you back tighter and you took it all in.

When you pulled away, you looked to your right and saw Kylian at the bottom of the stairs, smiling a little at the scene.

"You can't love her more than I already do, mom" he frowned, walking to you and pulling you to him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head.