Am I alone?
From Create Your Own Story
You’re not. You can hear that familiar, soft “hhhmmhhhm” of breathing and follow it into the living room. Inclining your head slightly, you see the top of someone’s head resting on the sidearm of the couch. It’s dark trainwreck of hair that gets you to sneer a little in your fresh-from-the-bed haze.
It stirs so you begin to creep silently up to the edge. The boy, he seems so much younger than you, knits his brows together but doesn’t rouse. He’s got that look again. Unshaven, days-old clothes with that moldy smell mixed with burning and sweat. He snuffs in fits. Kinda like a dreaming dog.
Thane, your beautiful boy that smells like hard work and free labour.
