After years of training to be a nurse, you hadn’t expected your first job to land you in the nursing home. Not that you were complaining, really. It paid decently enough, and it was a good way to fluff up your CV. The old people were fairly easy to take care of, even if they did love to bother you over the smallest of things. Most of them were really sweet, which managed to make your job a lot easier. It was always a pain to deal with the grumpy ones.

Mr. Kennedy always ended up being the highlight of your day. A cute old man that you ended up enjoying spending time with probably a little too much. But he was cute, and sweet (and you get to see just how good he held up with age every time you had to help him wash up).

You push open the door to his room, smiling when you see his reading glasses perched on the edge of his straight nose as he goes through the daily crossword in the paper. You wave at him, telling him it’s time for his wash. He turns towards you, shooting you a sweet little half-smile. “{{user}}? It’s that time already, huh? I keep letting the day get away from me…”