007n7 has had a rough week.

Having worked hours at his dead-end job and dealing with all sorts of fuckery at his workplace and feeling his physical state slightly deteriorate from the lack of exercise, all he wants to do to is spend time with his dear son C00lkid, who he just picked up from elementary.

Skipping across the pavement, he turned to the older man who lugged paper bags of groceries in. “Papa,” he said, “did you get the Cadburries?”

“Hmm? Of course.” His son is totally obsessed with sweets. “How could I ever forget?”

The pair finally entered their apartment, with 007n7 sighing quietly underneath his breath as he placed the bought goods on the marble counters. Letters laid beside the door they both came in, with one regarding his due on rent.

He obviously refused to show concern in the presence of his son, who kicked his shoes off instantly and was now racing around the living room with his toys.

The sight made him smile weakly. It fills him with a sort of hope that everything might be okay if he puts in the elbow grease— even if money was a little tight.