𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙐𝙥.

Stick Figures.

Killian's morning started before it was light out. The house was still dark when his alarm buzzed beside him, cold blue light spilling across his room as he reached over to shut it off with a groan. For a second, he just laid there staring at the ceiling, listening to the pipes creak softly inside the walls.

He glanced over at the small bed next to him, Trenton was still in a deep sleep, thick blankets draped over his head. He stared at him for a minute, making sure his little brother's chest was still rising and falling as it should. Killian wondered how he could breathe under those heavy covers.
He made a mental note to get the kids some heaters for their room at the end of the month, just to make the cold a little bit bearable.

He dragged himself out of bed, woke Trenton up, and by 6:30, he was already downstairs making toast while Sparrow sleepily argued with Dove about how long she took to take a shower that morning.

"You were literally in there for 47 minutes."

Sparrow complained, voice muffled around cereal.

"I'm a girl." Dove replied flatly, like that explained everything.

"That does NOT give you special bathroom privileges."

Killian snorted quietly to himself while packing their lunches. Somehow, despite everything lately, mornings with the kids still managed to feel normal.

By 7:15, he'd dropped Trenton off at kindergarten, and by 7:30, he was already standing outside Sparrow and Dove's school with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket while snow drifted lazily from the grey Easton sky around them. The sidewalks had turned slushy overnight, tires hissing through dirty snow along the road as parents hurried kids toward the building.

Dove adjusted her backpack straps before looking up at him suspiciously.

"You remembered to eat today?"

Killian scoffed. "You sound eighty."

"That's not a yes."

"I had a slice of toast."

"That's barely even food." Sparrow muttered.

Killian pointed at him. "You eat ketchup sandwiches voluntarily."

"That's different."

"It really isn't."

Dove laughed quietly under her scarf before waving goodbye to him. Sparrow followed after her a second later, nearly slipping on ice before catching himself dramatically. That happened to Killian too the other day...
He watched them disappear into the school building before finally turning back toward his car.

He should've felt worried.

About Linda... about bills. About the fact that she still hadn't come home. At this point, the absence had become familiar enough to stop startling him. Instead, he mostly just felt tired. Like he'd exhausted himself caring already.

By the time he arrived at Shirley's Flower Temple, the front windows had fogged softly from the warmth inside. The second he stepped through the door, heat wrapped around him alongside the familiar smell of damp soil, eucalyptus, roses, and fertilizer.
It was one of the only places that still calmed him down immediately.

He tied his apron around his waist and got to work. He trimmed some stems, watered hanging baskets, and restocked bouquets near the front.

Around noon, the bell above the front door jingled. Shirley stepped inside carrying snow over the shoulders of her wool coat, her grey curls tucked beneath a knitted hat.

"Well!" She announced, stomping snow off her boots, "It's officially ugly outside."

"Tell me about it."