He was alone.
Not the kind of alone that came from being by yourself—but the kind that settled in your bones. A cold that had nothing to do with the night air, but everything to do with the void left behind. A craving for something he could never get back. Unless he struck a deal with Hades himself.
Right now, his only solace was the night. A quiet, haunting reminder that they were gone. That he had to be strong. That he had to be a man.
That he had to be their proud son.
The cold that pressed against his skin wasn't the night's chill—it was the absence of her warmth. The kind of warmth that no amount of blankets or bourbon could replicate. The kind of warmth that made a house feel like home.
Now, the night was his only companion. A silent, indifferent witness to the fact that he had to stand alone. Be a man. Be their proud son.
But damn… some nights, he just wanted to be that kid again.
