It Never Had To Get So Dark - Father Paul Hill x Reader

One

I let out a disgruntled groan and pushed at my natural alarm clock, also known as my four-year-old Akita Kura, before he could lap at my face any further, the last I needed was to lose my skin before I'd even started my day.

Groggily, I opened my eyes and looked down the bed at the dog who sat on his haunches, tilting his head at me as his tail wagged madly behind him.

"Yeah, yeah, don't try acting all cute now, Monsieur Pupper."

With a huff of a laugh, I reached down to ruffle between his ears while rubbing my eyes free of sleep with the other hand and then I looked towards the curtains.

A thin stream of light was slithering through where I had failed to pull them closed fully the night before, it looked as though it would be a pleasant day of nothingness once again on Crockett Island.

Giving Kura a look of resignation, I nodded my head towards the door before throwing the tangled covers away from my legs to swing them over the edge of the bed, he took a gazelle-worthy leap into the doorway and clattered down the hallway out of sight.

Leaning over, I grabbed the leggings and shirt I'd thrown off last night and slipped them on while he ran between the kitchen and the bedroom doorway, staring through impatiently.

Reaching over to grab my outdated MP3 player and headphones, I untangle them while giving him a look and shake of my head.

"Patience, I'm getting there."

He bunny-hopped his front paws and lowered his chest before bounding back to the kitchen, for once not giving a huff which was a signature move of his.

Rolling my eyes, I put the earbuds in, Jeff Wayne's The Eve of the War continuing to blast through from where I'd left it the previous night, and stood up to immediately turn around and straighten out the duvet, not perfectly but well enough to claim that I had at least made my bed.

Low effort was better than no effort.

Giving the cover a pat down, I then bounced my way to the window in tune to the music and threw the curtains open with a music induced enthusiasm.

That enthusiasm was almost sapped away as the beautiful day was ruined by the mere sight of Bev Keane walking past my small box of a house, heading in a direction that was surprisingly not the church.

Though she was dressed as primly as she would be, not that I could recall her dressing any differently than that of a church girl in my two years of living in Crockett.

Not that I paid her much attention, my disbelief of any religion saved me from having to ever interact at length with the woman, which as a saving grace in itself.

I would consider myself pretty cordial with anyone, whether our beliefs and opinions lined up or not but Bev? She was a whole other kettle of fish.

Wrinkling my nose, I turned away from the window to find Kura peering out of the kitchen doorway towards me.

"Okay, I'm coming."

Sparing another glance over my shoulder, I watched Bev disappear from sight and then turned my attention to my poor, starved dog who hadn't eaten in a torturous eight hours despite having a bowl of dry food he could access at any time he wished to.

The morning continued as normal.

Breakfast for me and the diva, his consisting of ham and some sticks to aid with his joints and dental health and mine of a bagel with cheese and cucumber and a warm cup of coffee.

Followed by a bathroom refresh of washing my face and brushing my teeth to make myself more presentable to hang around with, even if it was just my own company.