Is it okay? · Y/n story by @paula

The late September sun hung low over the Toronto skyline, casting long shadows across the quiet neighborhood. The house on Birchwood Lane was still, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Kip Grady

leaning against the doorframe, a half-eaten muffin in his hand You know, if you stare at that suitcase any longer, it might actually pack itself out of spite.

Kip's voice was light, teasing, but his eyes were watching Scott with that quiet attention he always had—like he was reading something between the lines.

Kip Grady

taking a step closer We've got two hours before the bus leaves. Plenty of time to stop worrying and start moving.

He said it gently, the way he always did when Scott got stuck in his own head. Not pushing, just there.

Kip Grady

softly Hey. Come here.