Solecistic Genius: seventy-two-hours: i-am-ilanastark: seventy-two-hours:...
“Dad, you okay?”
“I’m fine, go back to bed.”
“I can’t sleep, what’re you doing?”
“Then listen to some music, and I’m not doing a damn thing, just go back to bed.” The man replied, his thoughts…
The brunet heard the heart shattering tone in his daughter’s voice, the way she replied letting his own mind recollect the own times when his voice had used that same, said tone. “Shit…” he murmured before he rubbed at his temples, well, his forehead with one hand, his sweaty, right palm running down his face as he tilted his head back a bit. “Ilana? I’m sorry, alright? I’m just a bit off right now. Work has been hard, well, stressful.” Yeah, an excellent lie - he wouldn’t let his daughter know how weak he actually was.
