Uncontrollable Fire.

i thot we had something??

About two days later he got a reply to his text, it wasn't what he was expecting, and it was at the same time as the last text.

He had been awake, which was unfortunate now in more ways than one, and he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. Nightmares. Usually, he couldn't get back to sleep after waking up in a cold sweat and no idea as to where he was.

2:39 AM

Unknown number: oh

Unknown number: can u still tell me????

This person had to be fucking high, nobody texted confirmed strangers these things. Dumbass teenagers probably, but he was bitter and sleep deprived.

Texting, he tried to not grip his phone too tightly, seething from his spot on the floor.

Me: fuckass, Google is a fucking thing.

Unknown number: ik

Who the fuck couldn't just spell out "I know" it's not that fucking hard. It doesn't take any fucking longer.

Unknown number: u sure theres enough swear words in the text?

Asshole.

Taking a deep breath, holding it for four, and letting it out. Doing that a few times, he leans his head against the side of his bed, he stares at the ceiling, it wasn't interesting in the slightest, he'd stared at it enough to confirm that ten times over.

The day had been stressful enough as it was, he didn't need stupid teenagers to add to the pile. So he did the reasonable thing, which wasn't blocking, he gave the idiots what they wanted.

Me: 6'0 never fucking text this number again.

Nicely.

Unknown number: shite

At that, he turned off his phone and threw it across the room where his blanket was still in a bundle from his anything but graceful escape.

The nightmares only really came back when he was overworking, none of it mattered though because he had someone depending on him. He could deal, he'd have too.

Immature teenage years are behind him, and they needed to stay that way. He had to grow up fast, it was the least he could do.

The only thing he could do.

He tried not to think about it.

So he laid on the floor until the sun started to rise behind his curtains, and birds started to faintly chirp until the neighbor downstairs slammed their door loudly.

It went by fast, also too slow.

When he decided Kaede would be up soon, he went to the kitchen, filling up a cereal bowl for both him and Kaede, he didn't work until the afternoon. The weekend. No school, fewer hours.

Turning on the tv he sat there, watching the news play out with no sound, their tv was a shitty old box-shaped thing, quite sad, it worked good enough though, enough to keep Kaede busy when she was actually home long enough for her to need something to do.

He rarely watched it, it was pointless. Finishing eating he set to cleaning the apartment, it was sparse, there wasn't a whole lot to mess up, the kitchen was the worst, dishes piling up on the counter.

Kaede stumbles out of her room, sometime between laundry and vacuuming, hair a blonde mess sticking up every which way, hearing aids dangling in her hands, she eats her cereal in silicene watching cartoons with subtitles on, eyes hardly open.

Her eyes black, unlike his.

Nearing noon, he's showered his phone to his ear between his shoulder, he's trying not to raise his voice, tries not to swear in front of his daughter, but.