snow

1.3K 62 19
                                    

so i originally wrote this as a christmas one-shot but i never finished this so i guess i'll just publish what i had

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Daddy!!" the little five-year-old Mitch screamed, running towards his father and hugging his legs tightly. Scott smiled tiredly and bent to pick him up, holding the small body tightly to his chest. "Hi, sweetheart. How was daycare?" he asked gently, taking his son's backpack off his shoulders and slinging it over his own. "Good!" Mitch said, laying his head in Scott's neck. "I missed you though." Scott smiled and kissed his cheek. "I missed you too, sweetie."

Scott carried Mitch outside, where snow covered the grass beside the sidewalk and the air was crisp and cool. "Daddy, look! Let's make snow angels!" Mitch squealed, and Scott set him down gently, smiling as the small boy immediately flopped down in the snow. His hair fell over his eyes, and he immediately broke into a fit of giggles, flailing his arms and legs to make a snow angel. Scott smiled fondly and watched him, subconsciously wrapping his arms around himself. "It's a pretty angel, sweetheart, but we have to go home," he said, and Mitch pouted but obeyed his father. Scott sighed softly and took his small hand, gently leading him the rest of the way home.

"Do you have any homework?" Scott asked as they walked inside their small apartment, and Mitch giggled again, shaking his head. "No, Daddy. I'm off school, remember? Besides, I'm only in kindergarten!" Scott smiled and sat down on the couch, smiling even wider as Mitch immediately crawled onto his lap. "You're smart enough to be in second grade, sweetheart," he said softly, wrapping his arms around him. Mitch smiled and set his head on Scott's shoulder, looking up at him. "Thank you, Daddy." Scott kissed his forehead in response and gently rubbed his back. "What do you want for dinner, sweetie?"

"Pasta!!"

Scott sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, honey. We don't have enough money for the ingredients. How about McDonald's?"

"Okay, Daddy!"

Scott smiled tiredly and nodded. "Alright, honey. Get your shoes on, you have to come with me." Mitch nodded enthusiastically and jumped off his lap, throwing another "Okay, Daddy!!" over his shoulder as he rushed to get his shoes on. Scott's smile dropped as soon as Mitch was gone, and he worriedly checked his wallet. After a moment, he sighed and put it away again. I'm not hungry, anyway. Mitch rushed back just then, his coat and shoes already back on. "Wow, honey. You got your coat on too," Scott said, standing up. Mitch giggled and took his hand. "I'm a big boy, Daddy!!"

"Yes, you are." Scott led Mitch to the door and outside, squeezing his hand. "Do you want me to carry you? It's kind of a long way..." Mitch shook his head and leaned into his father's side. "It's okay, Daddy," he said, smiling up at Scott. Scott smiled back, though his heart was aching — he wished he could give Mitch everything he wanted.

The father and son walked through the snowy streets, Scott listening with a smile as Mitch talked enthusiastically about his day. As soon as they got inside the restaurant, it started snowing again, and Scott took a moment to brush Mitch off before they walked up to the counter.

Scott picked Mitch up and held him on his hip as the little boy ordered his chicken nuggets. "And for you, sir?" the clerk asked after she'd entered Mitch's order into the computer, looking over at Scott, but he just shook his head with a tired smile. "Nothing for me, thanks." Mitch frowned slightly and looked over at his father, but the clerk spoke before he could say anything. "That'll be four dollars, please," she said, placing the small kid's cup on the counter. Scott got out his wallet and held Mitch with one arm, carefully extracting four one dollar bills and passing them over to her. She smiled at him and took them, then handed him his receipt. "We'll have it right out."

"Thank you." Scott took Mitch's cup and carried him over to the drink machine, and Mitch held it with both hands, looking innocently up at Scott. "What can I get, Daddy?" he asked, and Scott smiled, gesturing to the machine. "Whatever you want, sweetheart." Mitch squealed and quickly filled his cup with ice and Sprite. Scott helped him put a lid on it and Mitch put in the straw, then held it to his chest with both hands and took small sips while they waited for his food.

When their order was called, Scott adjusted his grip on Mitch and took the food with his free hand. "Do you want to eat here or at home?" he asked Mitch, and Mitch wrapped his legs around Scott like a koala, resting his head against his shoulder. "Home, Daddy. Please?" he asked quietly, and Scott smiled. "Okay, sweetheart." He carried Mitch home through the snow, Mitch's food clutched tightly in his other hand.

Mitch curled up on the couch when they got home, yawning quietly. Scott smiled and shut the door, then walked over to him and sat down. "Here, honey. Eat your chicken before you sleep, okay?" he said softly, and Mitch nodded with another yawn. "Okay, Daddy." He crawled into Scott's lap again and sleepily ate his chicken, but he fell asleep as soon as he was finished. Scott smiled tiredly and put the empty chicken box back in the bag, then wrapped his arms around his boy and buried his face in his hair.

Scott allowed himself to sit like that for around five seconds before he forced himself to gently lift Mitch off his lap and throw the bag away. He went back to take Mitch's unfinished drink and put it in the fridge for later. "Daddy?" a sleepy voice called, and Scott peeked back out of the kitchen. "Yes, darling?" Mitch yawned and reached for him. Scott smiled and went over to him to pick him up, carrying him into their bedroom. "Get in your pajamas, sweetheart," he said softly. Mitch nodded with another yawn and changed into his pajamas, which were really just one of Scott's shirts. It was huge on him, but Mitch liked wearing his father's clothes, especially if he wasn't there. It made him feel safe.

Scott took off his shirt and changed out of his work pants to a pair of tattered sweatpants, then climbed in bed. Mitch immediately laid down next to him and snuggled up to his chest, and Scott wrapped his arms around him, holding the small body close. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Daddy."

the book of fluff (that usually isn't)Where stories live. Discover now