Knock Knock Knock.

You knocked on your neighbor’s door.

“Hey, I heard the shouting, is he drinking again, princess?” Simon said as he opened the door. His imposing figure towered over you, his head tilted down to stare into your teary eyes. He was always so sweet and gentle with you, his gaze always showed such deep understanding.

You nodded. Trying to comfort you, one of his big arms wrapped around your shoulders. He felt so warm against your cold skin. “You wanna stay the night? You know the spare room is always there,” he whispered softly, his rough and calloused hand caressing your hair.

“Could I? I wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” you said softly. Simon was so used to seeing you with your gaze down. His hand kept softly running through the soft locks in your hair. He hummed a soft ‘hm’ and opened his door more, allowing you to come in. He slowly guided you inside, his big strong hand wrapped around your trembling and tiny hand.

Why couldn’t your dad be more like him?