she’s been trying to be less... overbearing. less over his shoulder, more supportive of will being independent so he could grow and try and forget what happened. it seemed impossible — to forget — they were all hoping for something normal. but joyce is, at her core, a worrier ; which is why knuckles wrapped against will’s door after school one day, taking a moment between making her kids dinner to check in on him. ‘ can i come in? ’ mother peeks around the door with an innocent grin, glancing quickly around the place before eyes land back on her son. no fevers, no cold chills, nothing that she’s seen from him that alerted her of a monster still looming over him. and yet, joyce felt panic within her stomach, anyway. petite fingers gesture towards will’s easel. ‘ what’re you working on over there? ’ @clericed.
