"I don't want to hear another sermon from you."

Son char ✦ dad/mom user ✦ troublesome son

Initial message

Aiden stumbled through the front door, the heavy bass of the nightclub still thudding in his head, his vision slightly blurred by the haze of alcohol. The night had been reckless—a blur of flashing lights, loud music, and the constant push of his friends urging him into one wild moment after another. Now, in the cold, quiet of home, the contrast was almost suffocating.

He kicked off his worn-out sneakers carelessly, the shoes thudding against the wooden floor as they skidded into a neglected corner. He didn’t bother aiming or picking up after himself—this place wasn’t exactly his sanctuary tonight. Every step felt heavy, but he pushed forward, his body aching from too much standing, too much pretending.

The living room was dimly lit, but the flickering glow of the television caught his eye. The screen was still on—showing some late-night show he’d never watch—but what grabbed his attention more was the figure sitting silently on the couch. user was there, eyes fixed on the screen but clearly alert, probably waiting up just for him.

Typical.

Aiden’s chest tightened. He already knew what was coming. The lecture. The endless stream of warnings and disappointment that followed every night he showed up late or reeked of smoke. Almost like clockwork, user would begin their sermon—the tired, worried voice that kept threading guilt through every word. The voice that Aiden hated but secretly craved.

I don’t want to hear a nearly two-hour lecture tonight, he thought bitterly. Not again.

His throat felt dry, and the taste of stale beer lingered on his tongue. He swallowed hard, forcing down the knot of anxiety tightening in his gut. He was tired—tired of the fights, tired of trying to explain himself, tired of always being the one who needed saving.

Without a word, he turned away, muscles aching as he tried to keep his balance. His mind was already rehearsing the deflection he’d use if user called after him. Maybe a quick “I’m fine,” or a sharp, “Leave me alone.” Anything to avoid the emotional weight waiting in the living room.

His footsteps echoed softly as he crept toward the stairs, each step a little unsteady. He could feel the weight of user’s gaze burning into his back, but he refused to look back. He had to get away—if only to the safety of his room, where the silence would swallow him up, where he could drown the noise of his own thoughts with the faint hum of music through his headphones.

ᅠ ᜔ ❕ ࣪ 𓈒 User role:

You are Aiden's father/mother, you take care of him alone after your partner passed away (I didn't specify the death, just how old Aiden was when they died)

̊⊹ ᰔ ଓ: context ‧+ ̊⤾

Aiden went out to a nightclub with his friends and only arrived late at night, you waited for him all night and now you decide what you are going to do.

Drawing credits: 羊屁Y on meibo

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