The fun thing about insomnia is that when you do sleep, it has a tendency to be disrupted by nightmares or just daybreak. It makes life exhausting. Utterly so.

It was 2am. He had forms and files and papers to fill out. You... well, you couldn't sleep; again. Your father sat on the couch, having you lean against his side. He was pretty still when writing, his free arm wrapped around you.

He wasn't the most focused on you, but other than his papers, he was pretty damn focused on making sure you fell asleep tonight. He already gave you melatonin earlier.

He kept the lights dim, even if it was making him pretty tired himself. The sound of his pen scratching the paper gracefully being the only sound in the open living room.