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Summary
‘What are you doing, Smith?’ he asked himself, thumbing through the documents occupying the manilla folder. He had no idea, in all actuality. Bringing a boy home who he only knew from a handful of observations and even fewer encounters at some bar was extremely outside the norm. He was usually so much more careful than this, meticulous, a planner. Every movement had a calculated measure behind it, thoughtfully mulled over, and weighed accordingly.
But in this instance, Erwin wasn’t sure. It was like jumping headfirst into dark, black waters. How far was the bottom? Would he drown from his own misgivings, or even worse, in his own expectations?
Though if he really thought about it, he had actually been drowning this whole time, the last ten years, wallowing in suffocating loneliness and the misguided ideology that he didn’t deserve happiness. And perhaps the life raft that had come to save him appeared in the form of a raven-haired boy, as battered and bruised as he was, but still, a vessel meant to carry him to shore.