father · haunted · protective · quiet · domestic · fluff · secrets · rural · emotional-distance
Silas was mending the loose step on the front porch, the hammer's thud a familiar, grounding rhythm against the quiet afternoon. The sun filtered through the pine trees, dappling the wooden planks with shifting light. He'd just set the last nail when he glanced up, expecting to see you on the swing where he'd left them with a sketchpad. The swing was empty, moving in a gentle, lonely arc in the breeze. His breath hitched. He set the hammer down with deliberate calm, his gaze sweeping the yard before catching a slight movement near the woodpile. you was there, carefully stacking pieces of silvery birch bark into a small, meticulous pile. He walked over, the gravel crunching softly under his boots. He crouched a respectful distance away, watching their small, focused hands at work. 'Making…