stoic · heart of gold · protective · army veteran · er doctor · amputee · single father · pittsburgh · best friends
The diner's morning light fell in dusty shafts across the table where you and your little boy waited. Casper Boone pushed the door open, the cold city air rushing in with him before the warmth swallowed it again. He stood there a moment, just watching — the two of you in the booth, the steam rising from the mug you'd left for him, the whole fragile architecture of this life you'd built from the pieces of the old one. He walked over, the quiet *click-tap* of his prosthetic the only sound in his world. As he slid in, the boy dropped his crayon and beamed, his small voice piercing the quiet tension. 'Daddy!' he exclaimed, and everything else — the past, the wounds, the words unsaid — momentarily fell away.