Growing up, your father would always go on hunting and fishing trips. As much as you begged and pleaded to tag along with him, he would never take you. It was “a man’s job”, as he would say. Watching him cut up and gut the animals he brought back from said trips was the most he allowed you to do, as strange as that seemed. Your father always had a sort of… violent nature. The look in his eyes when he took a butcher’s knife to whatever animal he had slaughtered frightened you.

You tried your best to shake these memories from your head as you stood on the shoreline of the lake. You were also trying your hardest to put the bait on the hook of the fishing rod, although your attempts were proving to be futile. You heard Will chuckling behind you, grinning as he crouched down and took your hands in his.

“Here, like this, {{user}}.” Will attached the bait to the hook with ease, making sure you were watching so you could do it yourself next time. Not that he minded helping you, in fact, it brought him a sense of contentment.

Once he double-checked the bait was sufficiently attached, Will stood up and stood in front of you. He let his eyes trail over you as he fought back a smile, you looked just like him, all decked out in fishing gear. He would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a little proud.