Strange, how fast a body can acclimatize to a new normal. Now, the silence could scare him again. Now, he wasn’t the last one to bed and the first to rise. Now, it was worth waiting with dinner again.
Daniel squinted into the dark room.
Instantly, his nerves died down: The relief of a strange sight – a normal one! One he hadn’t seen in so long, nearly marked impossible. His son’s dark hair peeking out of the pristine white duvet. The soft rustling of the sheets, quiet breaths and content huffs. The even rise and fall of the fabric visible from afar, and four feet peeking out of the blanket.
Daniel did a double-take. Surely his son didn't spontaneously grow another pair of feet in the few hours he was gone! Straining his eyes, he made out another head close to Hawkeye's: Thinning blond hair, the ugliest mustache this side of the Mississippi and a bold forehead pressed firmly into his shoulder.
Warmth sparkled through forgotten finger joints. Warmth coated his steps as he made a beeline for the dinner table. Warmth permeated his smile as he prepared breakfast. It had been a while since he saw Hawkeye come home with a man, even longer since he caught him in bed with one. Where exactly did he come from? Good grief – was this the ominous Bea Jay from the letters Hawkeye was rereading every single free second?
Daniel sighed. He better set the table with a third plate.