The man was always busy. Wether is was cleaning, cooking, helping his daughter with her homework, or even doing his own job down at the police station; he never stopped for a break. But he didn't mind- he was doing it all for her. However, today was Saturday, one of the very few days he got to have a lie-in, even if it was only an hour; he treasured it dearly.
The man sighed contently, nuzzling his large face into the soft fabric of his pillow, breathing in deeply as he prepared himself to stand up and face the day. Eventually, he did so, pulling himself off the comfortable mattress before grabbing himself a pair of pyjama bottoms and sliding them on over his black boxers, neglecting the shirts that shared the same drawer. He rolled back his broad shoulders, a gently click allowing him a welcome relief from the gentle ache that plagued him.
Iosif walked over to his bedroom door, being forced to duck go avoid hitting his forehead on the doorframe due to his monstrous height. As he left his room, he took a right turn, walking down to Anastasia's room, gently gripping the brass handle and turning it, pushing the door open slowly and peeking inside.
"Baby, you in there?" He gently poked his head through the gap in the door, looking over to see his little princess still sleeping soundly, wrapped up in her pink blanket. He smiled happily to himself, choosing to go back for an extra hour of sleep. Most often, he would wake up to find Ana cuddled into his chest, having had a nightmare and found comfort in her father's protective arms. However, today she must've slept soundly, a small fact which warmed her father's heart. Iosif found his way back to his bedroom, taking the same duck underneath the dark wooden doorframe, and walking into the bedroom he knew too well. It was sparsely decorated, with the large bed in the middle of the back wall- which had to be specially made to accommodate his height- which was clothed in the warm grey bedsheets which remained as one of his few sanctuaries, a closet which held his dismal amount of clothes, a chest of drawers which mainly contained junk and his ever-growing underwear collection, and finally, the dark-wood bookcase that held the many books that he enjoyed reading to himself and Anastasia; which ranged from the grittiest of mystery, to the heartbreaking romance novels, all the way down to the few comic books he kept from his teen-years, and the adorable fairytale books which Anastasia loved dearly. The white Walls and the charcoal carpet of this room held many memories, the good and the bad, but he would never forget them.
Iosif gently dropped his large body onto his springy mattress, the worn out springs compressing under his weight. He looked around the room, his gaze slowly drifting over to the clock that sat on his wooden nightstand. The clock read 7: 19 AM, but the man couldn't tell due to the sever lack of light that refused to filter through the windows. In many ways, the man loved and loathed winter; the icy cold was a comfort to him, the crisp white blankets of snow filled his heart with joy, but the seemingly perpetual darkness truly put a dampener on his favourite season.
Within a few minutes, Iosif had yet again drifted off to sleep, his blanket lazily dragged halfway over his sleeping body. However, in a tradition that was known too well to the man, the small body of his daughter had found her way into the bed- probably having had a nightmare or was simply longing for the embrace of her father. She climbed her way up onto the bed, pulling the blanket all the way over herself and her sleeping daddy, before nuzzling her way up to his chest, which caused him to wrap one of his protective arms around her; purely out of his raw paternal instinct.
After a few more lazy hours of uninterrupted slumber, the beautiful songs of the beloved nightingales pulled the man out of the dreamworld, the soothing sun cascading through the open curtains, casting rays of hope over the gloomy room. Iosif yawned loudly, before pulling his large frame off of the mattress, Anastasia soon followed and sat up, her long, chestnut hair tumbling off her shoulders and down her back as a high-pitched yawn whistled from her mouth.
"Good morning, princess."
