When You Wish Upon A Star

Then

A/N 

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Welcome back to please-help-me-I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing-even-though-I-planned-this-story The Musical!!!!!

As promised, here is your first Sunday (Monday 😅) update! Depending on my weekly amount of stress and existential dread it will hopefully continue like this. OR we might even have two updates a weekend >:))))

BUT, only time will tell.

Now on with the story!

4.)

As a highly intelligent boy named Logan Moretti can tell you, there is a certain amount of hours per day that a person can work before they hit a limit. Working any more hours beyond this eight hour a day limit would be considered working "overtime" according to The Fair Labor Standards Act. Therefore, working seventeen hours a day is the act of an abused laborer.

Unfortunately, most people are not as well aware of this fact as Logan is. Namely, our own beloved Roman Castillo.

It was a cold December night, nearing one AM when Roman finally arrived from work with heavy bags under his eyes and enough exhaustion to pull an Aang and sleep for a hundred years.

He dug around his satchel for the spare key to Remus' apartment and unlocked the door. The icy wind fought to enter with him but he slammed the door in its face, using the last strength left in his tired muscles.

He sighed and rested against the door for a moment, staring into the small hallway. The walls had peeling strips of wallpaper dangling in curls and a worn vintage carpet along the floor. Stuck to the door of Remus' apartment was a sign:

The stains are not blood I promise.
[P.S Or are they? ;)]

Roman huffed out a laugh before kicking off his shoes and shrugging off the heavy army jacket his brother had let him borrow so he didn't freeze to death. Though he wasn't dead, the jacket had been more of a fashion accessory (one that was definitely not his style) than something to keep him warm, leaving Roman shivering and numb.

In the living room, a gas heater was working just as hard as Roman had been doing all day, pulsing out waves of heat that Roman welcomed gratefully. The tired man noted with surprise a dim glow coming from his brother's room. But before investigating why the hell his brother had a light on at one AM, Roman had to do something of great importance.

Walking over and opening the door furthest from the entrance, he was greeted with the sight of his four year old son, Patton, sleeping soundly in a bed with fluffy, pastel blue sheets and clutching a small rag doll. Roman immediately felt the weight on his shoulders lighten slightly and smiled wearily.

Carefully, he walked over to where his son slept and kissed his forehead, "I'm home, mijo." he whispered. Patton stirred slightly in his sleep, hugging the doll tighter and burying his face in its black, yarn hair.

Roman felt his heart swell and found himself beaming at his adorable offspring. Equally as careful, Roman navigated a treacherous path around Lego constructions, tea sets (with kettles and cups full of lemonade instead of tea), and what looked like the setup of a giant board game made out of scrap cardboard.

The man grinned at his son's creations for a second before feeling a pang of guilt that he couldn't play with him as much as before. He took a deep breath, glancing back at the bed one last time before exiting the room, leaving the door slightly open just how Patton liked it.

He stood outside the room and then cut his eyes over to Remus' room, squinting.

"Remus?" Roman said, peeking his head inside.