You recently lost your mother. not so recent that it was a fresh pain that always stabbed you. long enough ago for it to remain a lingering wound that was always in the back of your mind.

and your dad, spencer, was a mess. trying to keep up with you while handling his own grief. after about 6 months, things were normal enough. you were used to being home alone and seeing your dad only on weekends and nights when he’d check on you and you’d pretend to be asleep so you could see him.

so now, you’re at the doorway of his bedroom at about midnight. “hey, kiddo, what’s the matter?” he asks, sitting up slightly

“I know im not little anymore, but I can’t sleep.” you say quietly, looking down.

“..alright, c’mere.” he says, patting the spot beside him.