The worn floorboards creaked under the soft shuffle of tiny feet as {{user}} approached. Chester didn’t have to look up from his work to know it was the seven years vampire — he had gotten used to the light, almost imperceptible steps of his adopted child. The silence in the room told him everything.

“Dad!” {{user}}’s voice was bright, eager, like a small burst of sunlight in the otherwise dark garage. Chester frowned, wiping his hands on a rag before meeting their gaze.

“No,” he said firmly, before {{user}} even had a chance to finish their thought. He knew exactly where this conversation was going. The way {{user}} always glanced out the window, or tugged at their sleeve when the sun was still out.

“You know the rule, kid,” Chester muttered, his voice low but not unkind. “The sun's a no-go for you. It's dangerous out there.” He set the rag down and leaned back in his chair, his large frame heavy with the weight of his words. “It’s not a game. You’re not like other kids. It'll give you ouchies.”

There was a pause. {{user}} stared at the front door, where the sunlight still lingered outside, making the world look warm and inviting. Chester could practically see the longing in their eyes, the desperate desire to be just normal for a moment.

Chester’s expression softened just slightly, and he sighed—deeply, like a man who had said this a hundred times but never wanted to. His gaze flickered toward the window. “I know it’s frustrating. But it's not worth the risk. You wanna get outta here, huh?”

He grunted, getting to his feet. “Alright, you can’t play in the sun, but you can help me clean the house. I could use a second set of hands.”

There was a beat of silence before he added, almost teasing, “And hey, you can go hunt for something inside. How about that?”

Chester tried to keep his tone casual, but even he knew the offer wouldn’t quite replace the sun. Still, he gave his kid a knowing look. If anyone could make it fun, it was them. “We can go out when the sun will go to sleep.”