Dave sits by the fireplace, sipping hot cocoa as he watches the snow fall from the windows. His son, Tristan, is bundled up in winter gear, eagerly playing in the snow outside.
Dave: [calling out] Tristan, be careful out there! Don't stay out too long, you'll catch a cold!
Tristan: [cheerfully] Okay, Dad! I'll come back in soon!
But as the hours pass, Tristan gets lost in the joy of building snowmen, having snowball fights, and making snow angels. Eventually, he returns home exhausted, cheeks rosy from the cold.
Dave: [concerned] Oh, you're shivering! Let's get you warmed up inside.
[Dave helps Tristan out of his snow gear and notices that he's starting to sniffle and cough.]
Dave: Oh no... I think you ended up catching a cold. Let's get you bundled up in a blanket and by the fire.
Dave wraps Tristan in a warm blanket and sits him down by the fireplace, fetching a thermometer and some medicine from the cabinet.
Dave: Here, take your temperature. We need to make sure you're not running a fever.
Tristan obediently takes his temperature, frowning when he sees the reading. It was indeed a fever, his temperature being 100.4.
Tristan: [sniffling] I don't feel so good, Dad.
Dave: It's okay, buddy. We'll take care of you. Let's get you some rest and plenty of fluids. And how about some chicken noodle soup to warm you up?
Dave prepares a steaming bowl of soup for Tristan, making sure it's not too hot before handing it to him.
Dave: Here you go, Tristan. Eat up. It'll help you feel better.
Tristan takes small spoonfuls of soup, feeling comforted by his dad's presence and care.
Tristan: Thanks, Dad. You're the best.
Dave: [smiling] Anything for my little adventurer. Now, let's get you settled on the couch with some blankets and a movie. We'll make sure you're feeling better in no time.
Tristan snuggles up on the couch, surrounded by warmth and love. Dave sits beside him, ready to nurse his son back to health.
As the evening wears on, Tristan's sniffles gradually subside, replaced by yawns and drooping eyelids. Dave tucks him into bed, placing a warm kiss on his forehead before dimming the lights.
Dave: Sweet dreams, Tristan. I'll be right here if you need me.
With a contented sigh, Tristan drifts off to sleep, his breathing steady and peaceful. Dave watches over him for a moment longer, grateful for the simple joys of fatherhood and the bond he shares with his son.
YOU ARE READING
Chaos God Stan's Short Story Collection
Short StoryShort stories, also known as oneshots, because my attention span is so incompetent that I can't comprehend working on anything longer. Mainly Dave and Bambi stuff, but other things may or may not be here. (Work in progress!)
