player [ 𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | 𝗮𝘂 ]

one

Breakfast. He made breakfast. It was one of the few things he was terrible at, but he still tried his best, the small act a testament to his love for me.

Glancing at my bedside table, the alarm clock I always failed to set read 07:19. A knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach as I remembered that he was going to be late for work again.

With a yawn that felt like it could echo through the entire house, I dragged myself out of bed, letting the cool air of the morning hit my face as I shuffled toward the kitchen. I could already smell the burnt toast and overcooked eggs—his signature breakfast combination, one that never quite tasted like the real thing but always felt like home.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," I smiled at him as I sat down at the small, cluttered table, the remnants of last night's study session still sprawled across the surface. "I could've just grabbed something on my way out."

He turned to me, his tousled hair catching the morning light, and placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head. "I wanted to do something nice for you." His voice was a warm rumble, a familiar comfort amidst the chaos of our lives.

I raised an eyebrow at him while I piled scrambled eggs onto my plate, the golden-yellow fluffiness an inviting sight despite the smell of burnt toast lingering in the air. "You know how I feel about your cooking."

"Besides," he added, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, "grabbing something on your way out means you won't eat all day. And we both know you have a tendency to forget meals when you're busy with assignments." He chuckled lightly, but I could hear the underlying concern in his voice.

I admired him for taking on my mother's role as the caretaker in our little family. He filled the gaps she left behind, handling everything from chores to emotional support, but it broke my heart knowing that he felt the weight of it all on his shoulders. Sometimes I wished he would let me help him carry it, even if only a little.

"Hey, Dad," I called out to him, reaching for my glass of juice. "I love you. Don't work too hard today."

His smile widened, a rare sight that filled the room with warmth, chasing away the shadows of worry. "I love you more, kid. Now eat quickly," he said, checking the time on his phone with a frown. "Or you'll be late too."

I hurriedly took a few bites, the food providing a temporary comfort. As I watched him rush around the kitchen, gathering his things, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The way he threw on his jacket, glancing at the clock with that familiar mix of frustration and resignation, made me ache for him.

"Just promise me you'll be careful today," I urged, setting my fork down, the clatter breaking the morning silence. "You know I worry when you're out late."

He paused, his expression softening as he looked at me. "I promise. Just like you need to promise to eat lunch today. No skipping meals, alright?"

I nodded, a small smile creeping onto my face as I reached out to squeeze his hand. "Deal. But you better be home in time for our movie night. I've been looking forward to it all week."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he said, and for a moment, the weight of the day seemed to lift as we shared a laugh.

As he grabbed his bag and hurried out the door, I felt that familiar mixture of gratitude and guilt wash over me. I was lucky to have him, but I wished he didn't have to shoulder the burden of being a widower so soon.

"See you tonight!" I called after him, watching as he waved back, a fleeting glimpse of his carefree smile before he disappeared into the chaos of the outside world.

I took a deep breath, letting the house's silence settle around me. It felt heavy without his presence, but the day was still young, and I had classes to prepare for. 

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