Pinky Promise
OFC x OC Dads best-friend
18+, mature
3•Purple Hyacinth
Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3
Summary: Fathers are supposed to be the ones taking care of their child, but Josephine’s life is the other way around. Her life is booze, her dad, and her dad’s best friend - what could go wrong?
Chapter summary: All she wanted was a break…not to quit.
Word count: 5.9k
Warnings: hospitals, funeral, tags left out to avoid spoilers
—
Josephine sits in the sterile and bleak hospital room, the mechanical beeping of machines surrounding her in an eerie symphony. Her father lays motionless on the bed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with the help of the ventilator. She’s been by his side since he was rushed to the hospital four days ago, but now, she feels like a stranger in her own skin, in the same clothes from when she arrived.
Everyone from her grandparents to cousins have slowly made their appearance, trying their best to lighten the mood. Bringing her food she doesn’t eat, a change of clothes that she won’t change into, and trying to make her leave the room even if it’s for five minutes. But ultimately nothing works. She can’t seem to simply walk away from him because if only she stayed instead of working, she would’ve been there to save him.
Her eyes are dry, devoid of tears. She’s cried all she can, leaving her emotionally drained and numb. The reality of her father slipping into a coma has hit her like a ton of bricks, leaving her grappling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
As she sits, finally alone with him, in the uncomfortable chair, Josephine's mind wanders to all the moments they shared together - the good and the bad. She wishes she could turn back time, make things right, keep some things left unsaid. But now, all she can do is hold his hand and pray for some type of miracle.
“Dad, let’s go ride the Maverick!” Josephine squeals to Neil who’s holding her hand with his right and a big fluffy bunny in the other, her small hand tightly gripping her dad's calloused fingers.
Neil gazes down at his daughter with a mixture of pride and concern, his heart swelling at her bravery. The summer sun beats down on them, casting long shadows on the pavement as the rollercoaster roars past them, and riders' screams fill the air.
"Are you sure you're up for this, pumpkin?" Neil asks, his voice laced with both amusement and worry. Josephine nods vigorously, her curly hair bouncing with excitement.
Josephine puts her hand up like a visor to her eyes as she looks up to the massive coaster, listening to the screams of terror and joy from people on it as it flies by them. Her heart pounds in excitement and anticipation, she knows she wants to ride it.
She looks from the coaster to her dad, who’s staring down at her in complete awe that she even wants to ride something so big at such a young age.
“Let’s do it dad!”
Neil smiles, unable to resist his daughter's infectious enthusiasm.
Together, they join the line for the Maverick, the air crackling with a sense of adventure. Neil keeps a watchful eye on Josephine as they inch closer to the front, his protective instincts in overdrive. Josephine, on the other hand, is a bundle of nerves and excitement, fidgeting with her bunny as she steals glances at the towering coaster.
Finally, it's their turn. The person checking peoples heights asks Josephine to step over under the wooden measurement cut out, to make sure she’s tall enough. Luckily, for an eleven year old, she’s taller than most. “You’re all set,” the teenager tells her, causing her to jump up and down as Neil chuckles at her.
Neil then helps Josephine settle into the seat, securing the safety bar in place with practiced hands. As the coaster lurches forward, Josephine's heart races in time with the clatter of the wheels on the tracks. The world blurs around them as they hurtle through twists and turns, and Josephine's laughter mingles with the screams of the fellow riders.
As the Maverick screeches to a halt, Neil turns to Josephine, his eyes filled with pride and awe. She looks back at him, her face flushed with excitement, a wide grin lighting up her features.
"That was insane!" Josephine exclaims, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. Neil hugs her back, overcome with love for his brave, adventurous daughter.
And as they walk away from the Maverick, hand in hand, Josephine can’t stop smiling and looking up at her dad. “Thank you dad, for bringing me. Love you!”
“I love you too, pumpkin.”
The tears start to pour again, the thought of never being able to do anything with her dad again, breaks her. Completely.
Josephine sits by her father's hospital bed, her eyes fixate on his right arm, a tattoo of her nickname, Pumpkin, etched permanently in bold black ink. She reaches out and gently traces the letters with her fingertips, feeling the rough texture against her skin.
As she holds onto his arm, a wave of sadness washes over her, and she begins to hyperventilate. This is all too real, too final. She never imagined that she would have to say goodbye to Neil like this. Tears well up in her eyes as she struggles to keep her composure.
She wants so badly to hear him say he was sorry, to hear him say he loves her.
But the reality is harsh and unforgiving.
The ventilator, with its rhythmic whooshing sounds, only serve to remind her of the gravity of the situation, of the looming goodbye that waits just around the corner. Josephine closes her eyes, trying to block out the beeping of the machines and the sterile smell of the hospital room.
She focuses on the sound of her father's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as the ventilator does its job. Each breath he takes feels like a stab to her heart, a painful reminder of what’s slipping away from her. She leans in closer, pressing her forehead against his arm, willing him to wake up, to open his eyes and smile at her one last time. But he remains still, his eyes closed, his chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm.
With a trembling hand, Josephine reaches out and grasps her father's hand, the one without the tattoo. She squeezes it tightly, hoping to feel some sign of life, some response from him. But his hand lays limp in hers, unresponsive and cold.
As the reality of the situation sinks in, Josephine feels a deep sense of loss wash over her. She knows that she will never get the apology she longs for, or the words of love she craves. All she has now are memories, fading like old photographs in the attic of her mind.
With a heavy heart, Josephine leans in and places a gentle kiss on her father's cheek. She whispers, "I love you, Dad," knowing that he might never hear her words.
—
“Jo, can you at least come step out here for a moment,” Joey pleads with her. She hasn’t left this room in a week and he can see that it’s taking a toll on her. “Please?”
Shifting her gaze from Neil to Joey, she feels a surge of relief wash over her. He’s been in and out of the hospital since she called the ambulance, but something about today feels different. Joey's eyes mirror the concern and compassion she craves, and in that moment, she finds a small sense of solace. The look on his face speaks volumes, conveying a silent promise to be there for her in this trying time.
With a subtle nod, Josephine gathers the strength she has left and slowly rises to her feet. Her legs tremble beneath her, almost jelly-like, and her mind is foggy with a mix of fear and uncertainty. She leans down to kiss her father on the forehead, whispering reassurances that she’ll be right back.
The rhythmic sound of the ventilator hauntingly punctuates the room, a stark reminder of Neil's fragile state. The sight of him battling for each breath tears at Josephine's heart, but she knows she needs to step away, if only for a moment.
As she walks towards Joey, a wave of emotions crashes over her, threatening to consume her fragile composure. Stepping into the hallway, she feels the weight of the world on her shoulders, the uncertainty of the future looming large.
Suddenly, almost instinctively, Josephine finds herself cocooned in Joey's arms. His warmth and familiar scent wrap around her, offering a sense of security she desperately needs. Without a word, she buries her face in his chest, letting her tears flow freely.
"I missed you," she whispers hoarsely, her voice cracking. In that moment, all the unspoken words and emotions pass between them, a silent understanding that transcends any spoken language.
Joey holds her close, offering silent support and a shoulder to lean on in her darkest hour. “I did too, doll.” His heart sinks as Josephine's trembling body leans against him, seeking solace in his embrace. The hospital is suffocating with its antiseptic scent and the sound of machines beeping rhythmically in the background, he can’t believe she’s been here the whole week. No wonder she looks and feels this defeated. He can feel the way her body shakes with each breath she takes.
Joey whispers comforting words, his voice strained with the weight of the situation. "Shh, doll. Just try to relax, ‘kay?" Joey's words are soft, barely audible above the hum of the busy hallway of nurses and doctors. His arms hold her tightly, as if through the sheer force of his embrace he can shield her from the pain and uncertainty that hangs in the air.
Even though his own heart is breaking, Joey focuses all his energy on being here for Josephine, while his best friend - and his lover's father - lay motionless in the hospital bed, engulfed in a deep coma. Seeing Josephine crumble under the weight of her fear and grief is like a knife twisting in Joey's chest. It’s the complete opposite of her strong, independent personality.
As Josephine's sobs grow louder, Joey feels a surge of helplessness wash over him. He wishes he could trade places with her, bear the burden of this unbearable situation and spare her from this anguish. But life has dealt them a cruel hand, and all they can do is weather the storm together.
"So what did they say?" Joey's voice is steady, a lifeline in the turbulence of emotions that threaten to consume them both. Josephine hiccups against his chest, her grip on him unyielding, as if he’s the anchor keeping her grounded in this storm. It is something neither of them could have ever expected.
"If he doesn’t...wake up, by Friday…" Josephine's voice trails off, the unspoken words heavy in the air between them. Joey's heart clenches in his chest, the magnitude of her words echoing in the hallway.
"Shhh," Joey interrupts gently, his hand coming up to stroke her hair in a soothing gesture. He doesn’t need Josephine to finish that sentence; the unspoken fear hangs between them like a dark cloud. In that moment, as Joey holds Josephine in his arms, he makes a silent vow to be her rock, her unwavering support through whatever may come. The future is uncertain, filled with shadows of possibility both hopeful and bleak.
After a couple more minutes of silence, Josephine raises her tear-stained face from Joey's chest, her heart heavy with a mix of sorrow and love. As she stands on her tiptoes to reach his lips for a kiss, she can feel the intensity of their emotions in that one moment of connection. Joey accepts the kiss, his own eyes reflecting a deep sadness that mirrors her own.
"Thank you," she whispers softly, and her words hang in the air like a fragile thread. Their bond is a bittersweet mixture of pain and affection, each moment filled with unspoken words and silent promises.
Staring into Joey's eyes, Josephine feels a rush of gratitude and wonder. How has she come to be so fortunate as to have someone like him by her side? He is the missing piece she has been searching for, the rock that anchors her in the stormy seas of life.
In this hushed moment of shared grief and tenderness, Josephine realizes the depth of her feelings for Joey. He is not just a companion, but a soulmate who understands her in ways she never thought possible. Whatever this is between them, is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a fragile flame that refuses to be extinguished.
It’s weird how such sadness and darkness can shine light on some of the best things in life.
—
As family and friends walk into the gorgeous church with a somber silence, Josephine stands with Joey at the edge of the crowd, her eyes burning with anger and sorrow. Neil lays in the casket on the other side of the church, his face peaceful in death, but his life marred by addiction and turmoil. Josephine clenches her fists, struggling to contain the fury that boils within her.
She had warned him countless times about the destructive path he was on, pleading with him to seek help, to get sober. But he always brushed off her concerns with a careless shrug, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and drugs. And now, it has come to this – a funeral for a life cut short by addiction.
One that even his daughter couldn’t stop.
Joey places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his eyes red-rimmed from tears shed in private. He knows how much Neil’s downfall has hurt Josephine, how it has shattered her faith in him. But he also knows that she needs to put on a brave front for the sake of her family and friends gathered to pay their respects.
In the dimly lit church, Josephine somehow got pushed over to the casket after about an hour of people coming and going, and all she can do is stare at her dad's casket. And as she does, her eyes fill with tears of frustration and anger, not so much sorrow anymore. Josephine's anger boils inside her, fueled by the inability to confront him one last time.
The years of living with an alcoholic parent and enduring the chaos that came with it has left deep scars on Josephine's soul. Her life ultimately ended because he needed a caretaker, so her career was over before it started. She has longed for closure, for a chance to confront Neil one last time and let out all the pent-up anger and frustration that has consumed her for so long.
But now, with Neil lying lifeless before her, that opportunity is forever lost. Tears well up in Josephine's eyes, blurring her vision as the anger inside her threatens to take over the sadness. She wants to scream, to shake her father's lifeless body and demand answers that will never come.
As she stands there while family and friends of his come to give their condolences to her, a sudden wave of clarity washes over her. She realizes that her father's alcoholism has indeed wreaked havoc on her life, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and shattered dreams.
"Come on, Jo," Joey whispers softly. "I know you're angry, but ya gotta be strong for yourself."
“But-“ She turns to him to try to rebuke him, but he puts his index finger to her mouth.
“No buts, doll. You don’t have a choice right now, being cordial is the only option.” He sincerely tells her but tries to be as polite as he can be with her, because even though he loves to play with her, right now is not the time.
Reluctantly, Josephine sighs and nods, preparing herself for the ordeal ahead. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat so people can hear her, however her heart is heavy with grief and resentment.
As she stands before the assembled mourners who are all staring at her, just waiting to see what she has to say, she suddenly feels a wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. There’s no way she can talk about how she really feels, because not everyone feels that way or even wants to hear about it at all. These kinds of things are supposed to be heartwarming but also sorrowful, not full of anger and resentment. It would be a child-like move on her part.
Taking a shaky breath, Josephine begins to speak, her voice trembling with pent-up emotion.
“He was the goofiest guy you could ever meet, his laughter lit up a room. I always remember him being embarrassed of his teeth, just cause they never laid perfectly and he never got braces for ‘em, but they were one of my favorite things about him. It made him different, he had the best smile and I always tried to make him laugh so I could see it.”
She chuckles to herself as her tears blur her vision as she reads from her crinkled piece of paper.
“It’s forever etched into my brain and I’m extremely thankful for that…I just wish he was still here so I could see him and his smile again.”
She speaks of her father's kindness, his flaws, only touching gently on his struggles with addiction.
“We all know he had his problems,” she says, “I wish he was able to get them under control, even if it was for a little bit. But I guess he just couldn’t do it. I know he loved me and wanted the best for me… I just wish he was able to see that I need him.”
She talks about the good times they had shared, the laughter and love that had once filled their home.
“I remember this one time,” Josephine laughs to herself, the memories playing in her mind like a movie. “I convinced him to take some shrooms with me, obviously I was of age you guys,” the church of people chuckles with her, “But we ended up in the backyard, layin’ on the grass ‘n we were just staring up at the leaves ‘n stars. The sky was so clear that we could see constellations on constellations…it was absolutely beautiful. Then suddenly, my dad raised his hand to the sky and went, ‘I feel like I’m floating in space, Pumpkin.’”
The sound of laughter floats towards her from different people listening to the tales of her father's antics and funny moments. It’s a strange juxtaposition to the weight of grief that hangs heavy in the air.
For weeks, Josephine has been drowning in sorrow, unable to find solace in anything. But then, amidst the sea of mourners, she hears a familiar sound that brings a glimmer of light to her dark world. It is Joey's laughter.
Turning slightly, she looks to her right and sees him with his bright eyes fixed on her, a genuine smile playing on his lips. In that moment, it is as if he’s silently conveying his pride and love for her. She longs to say the words that are stuck in her throat, to tell him how much he means to her, but the words refuse to come out.
Yet, despite the heaviness of the occasion, Josephine finds a strange comfort in the sound of laughter that surrounds her. It’s a bandage to her broken heart, a reminder that even in the depths of grief and anger, moments of joy and connection can still be found. But as she turns her attention back to her piece of paper, her emotions plateau again. When writing this the other day, she knew that she would have to bring up her mom in some sort of fashion, and she wanted to, but she knew she had to be careful about it.
Before starting her next sentence, she tries to pull the tears back into her eyes and push her feelings down so she can talk about her mom. “And now, I finally know that my mom has someone to comfort and love her correctly up there. Ya know, I’m sure they're just dancin’ away,” she chokes out, “I’ve heard so many stories about them always dancin’ with each other…they finally have their dancing partners back and, with that, I’m glad they have each other.”
Suddenly, she has to take a deep breath so she doesn’t completely break down into a million pieces in front of everyone listening. But as she collects herself and continues, tears begin to fall unchecked down her cheeks. No matter how much she tries, her facade of composure crumbles before the eyes of those before her.
Joey stands beside her, his hand reaches for his spot on her lower back and slightly rubs her body, offering silent support as she pours out her heart, raw and unfiltered. His touch is gentle yet territorial. Joey listens intently, his presence a calming anchor in the storm of emotions that consume Josephine. His touch on her back is a silent reassurance, a reminder that she is not alone in her grief.
As Josephine speaks, the room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of shared sorrow and understanding. Joey's eyes never leave her face, his eyes brimming with empathy and compassion for the pain she is going through.
Time passes unnoticed as Josephine pours out her heart, finding solace in the presence of Joey by her side. The weight of her loss feels a little lighter with each word that leaves her mouth, each shared memory relieved. While Joey comforts her with just a gentle touch, she can feel the stares that go between her and Joey from people knowing who he is in relation to her father, with confused looks on their faces.
But Josephine and Joey couldn’t care less.
“I just wish they were able to dance down here, with me…” She finishes her eulogy with a small sigh and some sniffles. A sense of relief flows through her knowing that she doesn’t have to do this ever again.
And in that moment, Josephine realizes that, despite her anger and disappointment, she still loves her father. She mourns not just the man he had been, but the man he could have been if only he had found the strength to fight his demons.
—
Josephine stands at the graveside, her eyes fixate on the beautiful oak casket slowly being lowered into the ground. The wind whips through the cemetery, sending chills down her spine, but nothing can compare to the heaviness in her heart.
Memories flood her mind once more - Neil teaching her to ride a bike, his warm smile when she succeeded, and his comforting presence during hard times. All the good things. Tears well up in her eyes as she struggles to come to terms with the fact that he’s really gone.
As the last words from the priest are spoken and the final clods of dirt fall onto the casket, Josephine feels a stab-like sensation in her chest. It’s as if a part of her has been buried along with him, never to resurface again.
But while she’s starting to spiral again, a gentle hand rests on her lower back, providing a sense of comfort amidst the overwhelming grief. It’s Joey, who has been by her side since this happened.
He doesn’t say a word, but his presence speaks volumes. Just like in the church, he stands there, offering silent support as Josephine lets out all her emotions - the anger, the sadness, the despair.
She can finally breathe.
Finally as the dirt settles and everyone finally walks away, all while resting a hand on her other shoulder or a small hug when they pass by, she lays her white rose on his grave.
I love you, daddy. Come visit me whenever you can… Please.
Turning to walk away, she stops in her tracks and just stares at Joey. His sunken eyes and confident posture are both slouched, his once sharp features softened by grief. The wind plays with his hair, tousling it into a disarray that mirrors the chaos of emotions within him and her.
In this moment of shared silence, Josephine realizes the depth of Joey's loss. Neil wasn't just her father; he was also Joey's best friend. They had shared countless memories, laughter, and secrets over the years. And now, with Neil gone, a part of Joey's world has shattered too.
Swallowing her own tears, she steps to Joey and wraps her arms around him. She feels the weight of his sadness, the ache of his broken heart. In the embrace, they find themselves in each other's embrace, drawing strength from their shared sorrow.
Josephine's arms tighten around his torso as if she never wants to let go. Her right cheek rests on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. Their bodies move in perfect sync, as if they’re two halves of a whole. Joey's lips gently press into her hair, which is pulled back into a low bun.
Though the tightness of the bun is beginning to give her a massive migraine, she pays it no mind. Perhaps it’s from all the crying she has done today. She guesses she’ll never know.
“Thank you…” Joey chokes into her hair, but he lets some of his tears fall. For once, Josephine gets to see the vulnerable side of him, it’s sad it’s taken this for it to happen. She wishes it would’ve happened because of almost anything else, but the universe works in mysterious ways.
Standing under the starry night sky, the cool breeze gently caresses their faces, creating a serene atmosphere in contrast to the sorrow in her heart. The flickering candle lights from the memorial service cast shadows on their faces, and Josephine can barely hold back the tears that threaten to spill over.
She can’t believe that her father is really gone, that he would no longer be there to offer his wisdom and guidance, or even have the chance to sober up. Joey, sensing her despair, holds her closer, offering silent support through his presence.
As they stand there, swaying gently to an unheard melody, Josephine feels a sense of calm wash over her. Joey's familiar scent warms her, bringing a small measure of comfort in the midst of her grief. After what seems like an eternity, she musters the strength to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Are you ready to go home?" she asks, her words tinge with melancholy. Joey, ever the pillar of strength, leans back slightly to look into her watery eyes and places a tender kiss on her forehead, his beard lightly scratching her skin.
"Sure, doll," he replies softly, his voice full of warmth and understanding. Together, they walk through the silent cemetery, their footsteps muffled by the soft grass beneath their feet.
As they get closer to her car, Josephine feels a sense of gratitude for having Joey by her side for now. His unwavering support and love are the beacons of light that have helped her through the storm of emotions that kill to overwhelm her.
With Joey's hand in hers, Josephine finds the strength to face the challenges that she has to endure. Whatever and whenever those may be.
The drive home is quiet like the night, calm and peaceful for once, the only sound is the hum of the car's engine and the occasional sniffle from Josephine. While she sits quietly in the passenger seat, her hand holds onto Joey's on the center console, tightly. The weight of the day's events bore down on her, but also she’s calm - it’s a weird mix of feelings.
As she glances over at Joey, his eyes focused on the road ahead, she feels a surge of gratitude towards him. His quiet presence was, and still is, needed, a reminder that she is not alone in her grief. She would’ve been a pile of mush before it even started, if it weren’t for Joey.
The funeral was a blur of tears and condolences, with a mix of fake hugs all around, because if anyone truly cared they would have helped her and not just left her and him to fend for themselves. However, Josephine knows why they couldn’t. They had already tried so many times and nothing changed. Josephine was the only one who ultimately enabled him.
Finally reaching her house, she’s hesitant to walk in. It’s been three weeks since she’s been here, Joey’s been the one to grab things for her from here.
At the first step through the door, she will know that this is real and not a sick joke of some kind. Standing on the porch with Joey, her hand trembles as she reaches for the doorknob.
Her heart is heavy with grief, knowing that the moment she steps inside, she’s going to break down. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves when Joey grabs her hand and turns her to face him, “Do you want me to come with you? Do you wanna stay at my house for the night?”
Swallowing her pride, she accepts staying at his house tonight but she says she needs to grab some things and she needs to do it alone. “I understand…I’ll be right here when you’re ready,” Joey whispers to her as he lays a small kiss on her chapped lips, a small smile shows on her face. She mouths thank you, as she turns to face her front door again.
This time, she actually twists the knob and opens the door, when she enters her empty house, the silence swallows her like a heavy blanket. The familiar sight of the living room, usually littered with discarded beer cans, or liquor bottles, and cigarette butts, now looks strangely pristine in its emptiness.
No Family Guy blasting through the house, no sounds of him crying, no sounds of him breaking things while he bumps on the walls to use the bathroom, no drunken arguing or love bombing - just silence.
It’s terrifying.
Josephine makes her way through the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the hollow space. She passes her dad’s bedroom, the door slightly ajar, but she doesn’t look, she’s not ready for that.
A lump forms in her throat as she realizes the absence of the usual signs of life that she has grown accustomed to, no matter how chaotic they were. She quickens her pace to her room at the end of hall, so she can leave…she thought she could be here, but she can’t.
Finally reaching her own room, everything was exactly as she left it: her books scattered on the desk, clothes strewn on the floor, and posters peeling off the walls. But now, in the silence, it all seems like a stage set devoid of actors, waiting for the next scene to begin.
With a heavy heart, Josephine sinks onto her bed, her mind racing with questions of what if?
—
Josephine lays in Joey's bed, the soft cotton sheets swallowing her exhausted body. It’s the first time she has found herself in his room, but it’s far from what she’d imagined. The usual scenarios that would play out in her mind included; playful laughter, whispering secrets, stolen kisses.
But now they are replaced with silence and the weight of grief that hangs heavy in the air, like smoke.
She shifts slightly, Joey's thin sheet slightly rubbing against her bare legs as she shifts. Then Joey's large arms wrap around her torso, pulling her closer to his warm body, her back and ass fit right into his form behind her. It’s a comforting gesture, one that she welcomes in the midst of her turmoil. His presence is a soothing balm to her wounded soul.
As she lies there and stares at the candlelight that dances around on his nightstand, the events of the day play out in her mind like a movie reel. The funeral, the tears, the laughter, and the condolences – they all blur together in a haze of sadness and disbelief. She can’t shake the feeling of loss that consumes her, the emptiness that seems to fill every corner of her being.
And yet, here she is, in Joey's bed. It’s an unexpected turn of events, one that she had never anticipated to happen this way. But as Joey holds her close in his sleep, his steady heartbeat echoing in her ear, and his slow breathing slightly blowing small strands of her hair, she realizes that perhaps this is exactly where she needs to be. In the arms of someone who cares for her, who understands her pain without needing words.
She closes her eyes, seeking comfort in the warmth of Joey's embrace. She attempts to quiet the nagging memories of her dad's funeral replaying in her mind like a haunting film. The image of the casket being lowered into the earth and gradually concealed beneath the dirt, refuses to fade. Causing her eyes to shoot wide open and scan as much of his room as she can.
Her gaze darts around the room, taking in every detail as her mind races to make sense of her surroundings. A slight gasp escapes her lips, which causes Joey to stir slightly in his sleep, and his arms tighten protectively around her. She can feel his warmth, his steady breath against her neck, grounding her in the reality of the moment.
The room is filled with shadows dancing on the walls, the flickering candlelight casting an otherworldly glow over everything it touches. Josephine can see the familiar shapes of Joey's possessions - his books stacked neatly on the shelf, his guitar resting against the wall, the old photograph of his family on the bedside table.
She wants to hear him play at some point, but she doesn’t know how to ask him.
She wants to share her thoughts with Joey, to seek comfort in his presence. His slumbering form behind her, she hesitates to disturb him, because she knows this day was hard for him too. Her hand finds his, their fingers intertwining as if seeking reassurance in each other's touch. She traces the lines of his palm, each crease and ridge telling a story of its own. It’s in these moments of silence that she finds a semblance of peace.
The room wraps them in a cocoon of stillness, broken only by the soft hum of the night outside. Josephine wills herself to let go of the pain that grips her heart, to release the tight knot of grief that threatens to consume her. She whispers into the dim room, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Joey," she begins, unsure of what she wants to say but needing to speak nonetheless. "I miss him so much. I wish he was still here with us, laughing and telling his terrible jokes."
Her words hang in the air, a fragile thread connecting her to the past she so desperately hangs onto. “I’d even take him if he was drunk…” That’s how she knows she really misses him, because she misses every part of him.
She feels Joey stir beside her, his presence a silent reassurance that she’s not alone in her sorrow. In this quiet moment, as the night presses on outside the window and the world slumbers on, Josephine finds a measure of peace in the stillness of the night. She closes her eyes once more, her body giving up on staying awake any longer, in the comfort of Joey's embrace.
