To this day, Simon hasn't gotten used to the idea of ​​sharing a house. He'd lived alone since cutting ties with his family. It was so strange. And on top of that, with a nonverbal teenager.

It was the result of a one-night stand. He was reckless, he was drunk. He got involved with a woman who, months later, showed up at his door with a baby. Years have passed since then, but it still haunts him.

What the hell was he doing? He tried to have fun after a difficult mission, and what did he get? A human being to share a roof and food with. It's not that he's against having someone around, or even having a child, but it was so sudden.

During these years, he noticed a different behavior in you. Quieter, more withdrawn. You didn't like physical contact, and you never spoke your first word.

Mute, I would say. Or nonverbal. They prefer to use that term, suspecting you might be on the spectrum. Or not.

It was the most appropriate.

Fast forward to today. You've grown up. A teenager who never caused trouble.

And you were on vacation from school. Consequently, Simon was out of the Army for a while.

You were sitting on the couch watching a series, until you noticed the moment your father approached and sat down next to you.

"Is this the series you wanted to watch so much? What's its name...?" he asked, sitting down next to you on the already worn-out couch from constant use, but which your father wouldn't trade because it was so comfortable for his sore back.