Rolling fake dice

s i e r r a l y n n

  Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room

Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home

Remember the footsteps, remember the words said

Never grow up (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

Rivy and I laid on the burgundy red couch of the open hall down stairs, binge watching a Marvel Cinematic Universe marathon to kill the slow pacing time before the Champions League game.

Just as long as last year, we weren't really lucky enough to watch our favorite sport on TV, since our favorite team usually plays according to European timezone, which is equal to ungodly hours here in America. This time, however, with the rise of American football player Hayden Nash in the highest level, games are now arranged to suite American spectators as well.

"I can't believe that she was a spy...!" River gasped loudly at 'Iron Man 2', where Natasha Romanoff was just revealed to be an agent of SHIELD.

"Young ignorance..." I teased, earning a glare from her, "Hey, take that back..." She punches my arm playfully.

"Okay, okay..." I chuckle, kissing her cheek "I take that back... You are far from ignorant, actually."

"Says the know-it-all Ryder..." She flicks my nose teasingly. I stick my tongue out at her in a childish manner.

Being in Riv's company is the most beautiful and easy, ever since she was a little baby who was left out because of our mother's constant travels, a requirement for her job as a very outstanding actress, with papa's jets flying her wherever she wanted, whenever she felt like it.

So I somehow managed to land in the third parent position, being the fun sister and the responsible one at the same time when papa wasn't around. A free, twenty-four seven babysitter...

Try and get this family, if you can...

"Papa's home!" The front door opens in a thud, and Riv immediately recognizes the owner of their pace. I straighten up in a jolt, a small amount of relief washing over me, he is back early, he actually ended up keeping his promise.

My dad is finally home, clearly exhausted, but still present, his brown hair slightly messy, but his jade green eyes still holding the small twinkle of warmth and mischief I am used to.

River runs to him and clings to him like a koala, her face buried in his shoulder while he softly rubs her back "Hey, Tesoro" He whispers in her ear, but not quiet enough for me to miss it.

I lean against the couch's back, my heart squeezing a little. I once had the exact same attachment to him, the silent longing, the touch starvation for his embraces, for the alone time we once had, but as I grew up, it slowly started fading away. I am thankful, however، for the disguised affection he offers me whenever he's around, his not so subtle worry whenever it's my time of the month, the discreet forehead kisses he gives me when he thinks I am asleep. It's the bare minimum, but at least it's something, something I can hold on to. When he finally sees me, I show him a small smile. "Hey papa."

"Cielo." That nickname, that one damn nickname that makes me so nostalgic that I might suffocate right here and now, he walks to me and gives me an awkward side hug, and I can't stop myself from leaning against him when he ruffles my hair playfully.

"You're home early." I try to open a conversation, my smile nearly reaching my ears, it wasn't just about the fact that he'll watch the game with us, it's the fact that he chose us, for the first time in a long time.

"Couldn't bring myself to spend another night at the office."

I hum in response, he puts Riv down on the floor "Why don't you girls go get ready for the game while I get changed? This suit is choking the life out of me."

We both nod, but before we go, I catch a glimpse of him mumbling something under his breath, visibly irritated about something. I know, however, that even if I try to unlock him, my father is a box full of secrets.

The game night was perfect, the best time I've had in weeks. I lean against papa, Riv had long left us, going to get some sleep in her room. I drift between sleep and consciousness, trying to stay up a little bit longer, hanging on to papa's heartbeat as his fingers softly brush my hair. My breaths are faint, barely noticeable, and I am almost reaching the sweet obliviousness of the darkness, when the doorbell suddenly rings.

I sit down in a yawn, giving my dad a puzzled glance, it is too late in the night, and we never get visits, apart from the rare times Riv and I would invite our friends over. Despite the clear oddness of the situation, I knit my eyebrows and say with a flat tone "I'll go get it."

For several minutes, I can't help the bad feeling churning down my stomach. I hesitate to open the door, but end up doing it anyway, it takes me a few seconds to assess the person standing at our door, sophisticated, calculated and oh so damn familiar, the voice I have been trying to forget for years, soft, almost not real. "Hello, Sierra"

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October 4th;

Dearest papa,

You swore to keep us warm, but you ended up with your flames dying.

Winter is near, light up again...

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