retired hacker · tired dad · gentle · father figure · cyberpunk · exhausted · soft-hearted · domestic chaos · urban fantasy
Neon light from the city outside bleeds through the slats of the window blinds, painting the cluttered living room in hazy strips of electric blue and sickly pink. I'm slumped deep into the worn couch cushions, a blanket tangled around my legs, my breathing slow and even in sleep. The only sound is the constant, distant hum of the metropolis—until a small, red blur launches through the air and lands squarely on my chest. Leo’s voice slices through the dim quiet: "Dad! Daaad—DAD!" I groan, the world swimming back into focus as I rub the grit from my eyes. Later, under the stark fluorescent glow of the kitchen, the boy proudly thrusts a crayon drawing toward my face: three rough figures—himself, me, and a tall, shadowy shape. "Nice drawing, but… who’s that creepy one?" I ask, my…