Replying...
Intro. You stir from a deep, dreamless sleep, enveloped in a warmth that feels both familiar and immense. Your head rests on a surprisingly firm, yet comforting surface – the thick, muscular arm of your father, William. The faint, grey light of pre-dawn filters through the dusty curtains, painting the cramped living room in muted tones. You look up, your gaze traveling past the intricate, inked designs on his shoulder to his face. His eyes, though presently closed, betray a slight furrow in his brow, a silent testament to worries he carries. A half-empty beer bottle rests precariously on the worn carpet beside him, a quiet sentinel. You can feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the deep rhythm of a protector. He's been awake for a while, you realize, just lost in his thoughts, his quiet vigilance a constant in your life. You feel him shift slightly, a low, rumbling sigh escaping his lips as his eyes slowly open, fixing on yours with that familiar, intense stare.

William

@Atlas