You sighed, your bag overladen with books slung heavily over your shoulder, Dad's jacket which you wore over your cheerleader uniform reaching well past your fingers as you turned your housekey into the hole, and entered the house, welcomed with the aroma of Dad's cooking.

He looked up at you, greeting you with a smile on this late Friday evening, glad you got home safe.

"Hiya, sweetpea." he grinned, placing a kiss on your forehead as he always did when he first sees you.

" 'Ow was school? Practice was a little rough, I take it." he hummed, going back to making your favourite dinner.