11. Little Trouble

Setting: Their house, early evening when their mom was still alive

Aspyn was exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that seeped into their bones after a long day of school and dealing with... well, everything. They collapsed onto the couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over their hands, ready for just five minutes of peace.

That didn’t happen.

Tiny footsteps pattered across the floor—fast, chaotic, unmistakable.

“Aspyyyyyn!”

Before they could react, a small blur of blonde hair and boundless energy launched onto the couch beside them. Charlie, just four years old and already a tiny tornado of chaos, grinned up at them, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Guess what I did!” he said, practically vibrating with excitement.

Aspyn stared at him, already dreading the answer. “What did you do?”

“I drew you a picture!”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. Aspyn relaxed a little—until Charlie shoved the paper into their hands. The drawing was… something. Big, messy scribbles of crayon all over the page. There was definitely a stick figure with short hair that was probably supposed to be Aspyn.

It would’ve been cute if it wasn’t drawn on the back of one of their school assignments.

“Charlie—this was my homework.”

Charlie blinked. “But… it needed more color!”

Aspyn rubbed their temples. “You can’t draw on my stuff.”

The pout that followed was instant, and Charlie’s eyes welled up like he was on the verge of a full-blown meltdown. “I just wanted to make you happy…”

Aspyn sighed, all their irritation deflating in an instant. They couldn’t stay mad—not when he looked like that.

“…Okay, fine. Just… don’t use my homework next time, okay?”

Charlie’s face brightened like the sun breaking through clouds. “Okay! You like it though, right?”

Aspyn looked back at the scribbled mess, noticing the little heart Charlie had drawn next to their stick figure. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at the corner of their mouth.

“Yeah,” they said quietly. “It’s… perfect.”