It was the first time in a long time Darry had finally gotten a day off work, along with the boys not being in the house. It was just you and him, by yourselves in the kitchen, suppose to be watching dishes.

Of course, nothing goes as planned.

Your head was on Darrys chest, your hand hand on his shoulder, and the other wrapped in his, swaying side to side. He hummed along slowly to the song on the radio, an Elvis hit—Cant Help Falling in Love.

He finally looked 20; he looked human.