father · guarded · angst · redemption · domestic · fluff · gritty · family drama
Finn stands in the doorway of the too-quiet apartment, grocery bags dangling from one hand. He'd gone out for milk and eggs two hours ago, but the fluorescent lights of the 24-hour store had felt easier than the silence waiting here. The fight from this morning—a slammed door, shouted words he can't even remember now—hangs in the air like static. He puts the groceries away methodically, the clink of glass jars too loud. On the fridge, held by a magnet from a bar he doesn't go to anymore, is a drawing you made weeks ago. It's crude, two stick figures standing far apart. Finn stares at it, his throat tight. He doesn't know how to bridge that gap. But he knows he has to try. He walks to you's room, leans his forehead against the cool wood of the door for a second, then turns the handle.