Matthew stares at Niall with a wide-eyed, dumbfounded look on his face, but climbs onto the bed without hesitation, pressing close to his father's side. It's really him, or at least he's really real, and not just some weird figment of Matthew's imagination.
Matthew doesn't have enough imagination for this anyway. ]
Dad, [ he says again, a bit stupidly, failing to answer the question, and presses his curly head against his father's shoulder. Before Niall was killed (over a year ago, now; the last time he saw his father he was fourteen), Matthew had always been more tactile with his mother and brothers, but these are special circumstances. It feels like a dream, he thinks. ]
It's really you, isn't it?
[ Impossible, of course, but what does that word even mean anymore? ]
no subject
(And he really does, of course.)
Matthew stares at Niall with a wide-eyed, dumbfounded look on his face, but climbs onto the bed without hesitation, pressing close to his father's side. It's really him, or at least he's really real, and not just some weird figment of Matthew's imagination.
Matthew doesn't have enough imagination for this anyway. ]
Dad, [ he says again, a bit stupidly, failing to answer the question, and presses his curly head against his father's shoulder. Before Niall was killed (over a year ago, now; the last time he saw his father he was fourteen), Matthew had always been more tactile with his mother and brothers, but these are special circumstances. It feels like a dream, he thinks. ]
It's really you, isn't it?
[ Impossible, of course, but what does that word even mean anymore? ]