Chapter 4
The sun shone through the window of Mango's room as he leaned against the windowsill, and he sighed deeply. Finally, the hardcore labor of decorating his bedroom and putting everything into place had been finished. The heat of the evening sun burnt into his back in a strangely pleasant way, warming up the shirt clinging to his skin. Mango’s mind had been running haywire and he had wanted nothing more than to distract himself. Cleaning and decorating had served him justice, fortunately for him.
Mango let out a bored, unsatisfactory groan and pushed himself off of the edge of the window. It was quiet in his room–too quiet. Usually, he’d be pleased with a silent evening, but something inside him had been gnawing at him. It made him restless, unable to enjoy himself like he usually did. Even the way he was walking didn't feel normal. He felt heavy. Heavy like something had been pressing down on his very being. He was convinced he'd managed to piss God off or something with the way his life had been so drastically changed in such a short time, and continuing to change with each day he was living. Nothing could’ve gotten him used to it, the constant change he now had to live with.
Trudging down the stairs, Mango heard his mother shuffle around in the kitchen. He muttered to himself as he stepped into the kitchen as well, grabbed the handle of the fridge a little too aggressively to open it, even though he hadn't even been necessarily hungry. He stared into the cold space, his eyes merely skimmed over each food product with disinterest. This, in turn, managed to irritate Mango even further. Food usually made him feel better, so why had his appetite suddenly just disappeared?
Mango’s mother took note of her son's sour mood, and she smiled softly as she came and stood beside him. Aurora held her son's hand and closed the fridge before she set him down on one of the dining room chairs. Mango glanced at her. He was tense, and he knew that she could see it. Mango had never been opposed to chatting with his mother about problems or hard feelings he was facing, but this had felt different. Even if she asked, he didn't know if he'd be able to tell her what was wrong, or even what he was feeling in the first place. Something so different from what he was used to, something he hadn't yet been able to explore and understand. Those were usually his solutions. Meditation and soul searching, He had so much time on his hands that it would be futile to not explore his emotions. This, in turn, had made him quite in tune with himself. Mango never struggled to express what he was feeling, at least not commonly. He felt fine. But now? This was uncharted territory, and he had no idea how the hell he was going to be able to explain it to his mother without exploding.
That was the thing. Mango felt like a ticking time bomb. A ticking time bomb that had been lying dormant for years, and only then the timer had been set.
His mother met his gaze with a soft, concerned one of her own, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. Mango did not for a second doubt that she felt the nervousness and irritation that radiated off of him in waves. She had always been so gentle with her comfort. As soon as she asked Mango what was bothering him, he felt himself tense up even more.
“You know you can tell me absolutely anything,” She whispered comfortingly, “You know, I think it’d be good for you to get out a little more often.”
Mango’s expression soured at her words, not at all pleased with her suggestion. Get out more? How the hell was that supposed to help? He'd likely feel worse than anything if he did that. Had she forgotten the reason they had to move in the first place? Grumbling words escaped Mango’s mouth without a thought, and his mother picked up on the fact that what she had said wasn't received well by her son.
“I know you don’t agree with me,” Aurora frowned, and Mango clenched his jaw. He knew that wherever this conversation was going, no joy or pleasure was going to come from it. “But I'm worried about you, hun. You can't coop up inside all day.” She continued. With teeth that dug into his skin, Mango shook his head aggressively. His mother kept speaking, though he processed none of it. Her words were a blurred mess in the background of his mind as he felt the walls closing in on him.
The same thing couldn't happen again, he wouldn't let it. He couldn't be treated like that again, didn't wanna be ridiculed like he was back at their old place. It was all because he had shown himself, he had been out in the public eye. If he stays inside, it'll all be alright. If he isolates himself nobody else needs to know that he exists, and no one has to get hurt again. Mango glanced down as he felt something wet on his hand. A water drop, a tear. When had he started crying?
Mango hated crying in front of others. It felt wrong, all the times he’d cried because of people who made fun of him washed over him all at once. It made him nauseous, his vision blurred and his mind clouded with memories he never wanted to relive, ever. Short, panicked breaths were all he could let out for a few moments before he opened his mouth to speak weakly.
“You don't understand…” he whispered, while he forcibly wiped the tears from his eyes and off of his cheeks. His mother sighed. She shook her head at his words and watched him with those concerned and empathetic eyes. “I do understand–”
“No!” Mango yelled out, abruptly standing from the chair. The sudden movement had knocked his mother back a bit, which made her stumble before she regained her balance with a tight grip on the kitchen counter. Her eyes were open wide, surprise displayed on her face as she held her hands up. “Mango–”
“No, you don't understand!” Mango cried out, raising his voice. He reached up and held a tight grip on his hair, pulling at it with frustration, messing up his braid. “I can't let this happen again. People judge everything, and if I start going outside looking like this,” He gestured frantically at himself. “I’ll be a victim again!” He yelped. After taking a few deep breaths, he stared down at his feet. His gray socks didn't give him any answers. “I just, I can't let that happen again,” he whispered in a low voice, embarrassed about having yelled. When he didn't get a response from his mother, he glanced up in confusion.
His mother looked like she was frozen in place, her body completely still. Mango wiped his face and took a second look, having thought he had seen something wrong or was merely hallucinating. Still, his mother stayed completely still.
“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself as he stepped closer to his mother's frozen form. He waved a hand in front of her face, and as his heartbeat returned to normal after his outburst, it seemed as if time started moving again. His mother yelped in surprise as she suddenly jumped back.
“Jesus, Mango! How'd you just appear in front of me like that?!” She breathed heavily and leaned on the counter to catch her breath. “You scared me half to death. First, you break down on me, and then a second later you're learning some kind of teleportation tricks?”
Mango knew she only said it because she was shocked, but he still looked back down at his socks and frowned. “Sorry, ma. I don’t know what happened,” he said. Then, he lifted his gaze with guilt coating his expression. “And I'm sorry for yelling,” he added shamefully. It wasn't often that Mango yelled, so he felt extreme guilt every time it happened, even if it had been out of his control. A sigh escaped his mother's lips as she straightened up and walked over, pulling Mango into a tight hug.
“It's okay. I know it's a sensitive topic for you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm only worried for your well-being, hun.” Mango nodded into her shoulder as he wrapped his slender arms around her too. “I know…” he whispered in response. It was true, he knew that his mother would never bring anything sensitive up to taunt him or anything of the sort. Though he couldn't help but feel terrible anytime he was reminded of the past, and at least his mother understood that much. He still doubted that she could ever have understood the depth of his pain, of everything he had experienced, but he could not blame her for that. He had promised himself that he would never blame her for that.
Mango calmed down as his mother prepared lunch for the two of them. The heavy feeling he'd experienced in the morning wasn't weighing down on him as much, and he felt a little bit better as they ate lunch.
After he ate, Mango thanked his mother and left the table. He grabbed his gardening tools and stepped out into the front yard, wanting to pick up on his work again. The sun was blazing down onto him which managed to put a soft smile on his face. He skipped over to where he had work to do, and he got to it immediately, happily able to forget about all the negative emotions the morning had brought him.
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Peter stepped out of his house and hummed as he breathed in the fresh morning air. No matter how much he told himself he was only going out to go on a walk, he couldn't help but sneak a glance toward the house next door. Peter’s face lit up as he spotted his neighbor gardening in his front yard, just as he had hoped they would be. Bingo!
With the knowledge that Mango wasn’t necessarily his biggest fan, Peter wanted to make up for anything he might have done. Sure, they had only met a few times, and only spoke once or twice, but still! There must've been something he’d done to make Mango so distrustful of him, or maybe he just didn't like guys with silver hair. Who knew? All Peter knew was that he wanted to be friends with the other man, especially since they were both mutants.
Yeah, Mango wasn't aware of Peter's mutation, but Peter wanted to show him. He hadn't wanted to make any assumptions, but he thought that maybe Mango was insecure about his mutation. It really stuck out, and it was what caught Peter's attention in the first place. Not at all in a negative way though, no. Peter was amazed, and he had been giddy to get to know the other.
So what if he had resorted to slightly stalker-ish behavior by watching Mango whenever he went outside? Sue him, he was interested! Mango never seemed up to chat, so he had to make do with what he could.
Anyhow, he started making his way down the street towards the other house, reminding himself not to rush over using his super speed, at least not yet. Peter waved and put a big smile on his face, calling out to Mango. “Hey, Mango! Wanna hang out?”
He watched as Mango’s head snapped up, the guy looking like a deer caught in headlights. His smile faltered as Mango stood up and began to walk back into his house. “Hey, wait!” Peter yelled out and rushed over. He reached him and spun Mango around by his shoulders. “Look– I'm sorry for our last meeting and whatever I did to make you upset,” Peter rambles quickly, staring into Mango's shocked golden gaze. “I didn't mean any harm, honest! I wanna be friends,” he continued. “You seem cool.”
Peter let go of Mango's shoulders and hoped that he wouldn't just run off into the house to escape Peter again. If that happened, he'd just have to accept defeat and continue to watch Mango from afar for the rest of time. Not creepy at all. Luckily for him, Mango didn't end up running off.
“You think I'm cool?” he heard Mango whisper, and another smile broke out on Peter's face. “Of course, I think you're cool! You're different,” Peter beamed as he gestured excitedly with his hands. Though, it didn't seem as if Mango took his words as a compliment. He panicked a little inside and decided to just come out with it. “A-and you're not the only one who's different.”
Mango gazed up, and Peter met his confused gaze with a thrilled one of his own. For Peter, time slowed down and almost everything was frozen where it stood. Peter ran off to the nearest market, picking out a bouquet of wildflowers he thought looked pretty. Even though he had all the time in the world, he wanted to be quick with this, excited to see the other's reaction. The orange, pink, and green made him think of Mango, and that solidified the choice for him. After that, he ran back to Mango’s front yard. Time sped up again, and Mango gasped. Peter smiled at the expression, the bouquet in his hands. Since he only disappeared for a single second or two for Mango, Peter wasn't shocked at Mango's surprise at all. “Sorry, I don't know your favorite, so I just took the prettiest ones,” he admitted bashfully, holding them out for Mango to take.
He started to worry slightly as Mango just stood there, and Peter's face flushed as he realized what had just done. He stole flowers for Mango the second time they met. Stupid, stupid! That was way too forward!
Before Peter could start apologizing profusely, his ears picked up on a soft giggle coming from Mango. His eyes lit up as Mango gently reached his hands out and accepted the flowers. “You're a mutant too?” Mango asked him. Peter grinned and nodded his head. He watched as the sparkle appeared in the other's eyes as he responded. “Yeah, I am.”