Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DEATH OF A ROSE (STAND BY ME V) angsty fluff warning! mentions of death, excessive drug use and overdose we've reached the end of stand by me, what a long and emotional (and horny) journey it's been! i want to thank you all for reading and for your patience! i was considering publishing all five stand by me issues as a separate book (with some editing of course) so let me know if you guys would like that! ✟
My stomach growled furiously for the eighth time tonight. Falling asleep on an empty stomach was a next to impossible task. Never again would I attempt it. When it growled a ninth time I kicked off my covers and quietly stomped towards the door.
Fuck it. I'm starving.
I quickly opened my door to avoid any slow creaking noises and crept as quietly as I could past both Cash and Dad and Meegan's rooms and down the stairs. I was surprised to find the lights on when I walked into the kitchen but shrugged it off as someone simply forgetting to switch them off. I hadn't even noticed another presence in the room when I opened the fridge to look for something that wasn't one of Meegan's weird vegan creations until I heard my name.
"London?"
I jumped and quickly shut the fridge door, wincing at the loud slam that followed. I turned to see Dad sitting in one of the dining room chairs. I have no idea how I didn't notice him.
"What the hell are you doing awake?" He asked, his voice low. "And be quiet, people are sleeping."
"I was hungry," I admitted before opening the fridge again and grabbing a container of Greek yogurt. "What are you doing up?"
Dad sighed before responding. "Just thinking. Grab a spoon and go to bed."
I stopped for a moment, my hand gripping the handle of the utensil drawer but not opening it. Something felt... wrong. There was a hint of pain in his voice. It was small, but not unnoticeable. Something was definitely wrong.
I finally took a good look at Dad; he was slumped in his chair, head in his hand, staring down at what appeared to be a polaroid, and he wasn't wearing his shades. I could see the fatigue and pain in his eyes as he looked down at the picture. I'd never seen him look so miserable.
I set my yogurt down and slowly walked over to him, trying my best not to disturb him as I took a glance at the photo. It was of a young woman, wearing nothing but a silk black nightgown and Dad's hat. She was absolutely gorgeous and had a stunning smile. So... Why did he look so sad?
