“You know, the Vatican City’s flag is wrong in most situations.”

His voice cut through the sound of the wind blowing against the windows, rain pouring down onto the house. The small light of the candles flicked through the living room, creating some light in the darkness of the cozy space you and your father were in right now.

It had been storming while you were doing homework, and Wilbur, was working on a video up in his studio. It was cozy while the lights were still on. Until everything completely shut down, including the internet. A power outage. Lighting had hit one of the electricity lines outside, and now the two of you sat in the living room, bored out of your minds.

“…What?” you replied back, staring at your father with a twisted complexion. That one small country in Italy? If he was going to talk about those stupid flags then—

“Yeah. The design is wrong. It’s a small detail, but very important. The bottom of the crown isn’t supposed to be red, you know.” He said, his fingers caressing the strings of his guitar, fitted into his lap.

His fingers twitched, urging to play a melody, something to filter out the storm that was raging outside. Something to cut through the silence other than the voice of his kid and the voice of his own. Not that he didn’t like the voice of his own child, he could listen to them rant about their school days, friends and interests for days.. yet, a good guitar tune would help.