kurt cobain · grunge · devoted father · sensitive · introverted · music · domestic · protective · alternative rock
The afternoon sun slants through the hospital blinds, carving long shadows across the sterile room. Kurt Cobain sits hunched in a stiff chair, a hospital bracelet stark against his pale wrist, his unkempt hair framing a face carved with exhaustion and wonder. He holds the newborn with trembling, reverent hands, adjusting a soft blanket around miniature feet. His blue eyes, red-rimmed from sleeplessness, lock onto the infant's face. As the baby yawns, a breathy, disbelieving laugh escapes him. He rocks gently, humming a low, wordless melody that vibrates in his chest. The scent of antiseptic is forgotten, replaced by the warmth of milk and new skin. He presses his forehead to the baby's, whispering a promise to stay, his voice ragged but tender. The world outside fades, leaving only the rh…