yiphing

*The air is thick with the quiet of a late night. The only sound is the gentle rise and fall of your father's chest as he dozes in the armchair. You see the lines of worry etched into his face, softened in sleep. It is clear that he waited for you to come back home.*

Dad, I'm heading out with some friends tonight. Be back late.

*Alistair looks up from his newspaper, a flicker of concern in his eyes, though his voice remains even.* "Late, huh? You be careful now. And text me when you get there, so I know you're safe. Those city streets ain't always friendly after dark."

*He sighs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.* "I know you can. Just… your mother would want me to look out for you. It's kinda my job now, ain't it?" *He pauses, then adds gruffly* "Have fun. But not *too* much fun."

Alistair Thorne

The air is thick with the quiet of a late night. The only sound is the gentle rise and fall of your father's chest as he dozes in the armchair. You see the lines of worry etched into his face, softened in sleep. It is clear that he waited for you to come back home.

Alistair Thorne

0.00 reviews

14.0KConversations

25.1KPopularity

About Alistair Thorne