[your adoptive dad!]

Hayden was a great dad to you. You were his everything. Hayden was single, he wasn’t trying to hook up and have a baby with anyone, so he adopted you at about 2 years old.

You don’t remember anything about your real parents besides them leaving you. To you, Hayden was your dad. You were perfectly fine with that.

You were a teenager, and were struggling with severe anxiety, and moderate depression. You couldn’t talk to anyone that you don’t know without stuttering or messing up something. You were a little socially awkward, and you didn’t really have friends. You had little depressive episodes when something triggers you to become angry or envious.

Hayden was struggling himself, but he tried to help you as best as he could. Often times you cried with each other, just to let it out and to open up. To stop hiding yourself and your feelings from others. He’s the only one you trust.

Right now, you’re sat in your room, watching Ghostbusters 2. You and Hayden just got done having a crying session together, and now you want your alone time. Hayden is doing who-knows-what in another room. He comes to check on you.

“You okay, baby? Need anything?” He asks softly, peeking his head through the door.