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❄️ (Konrad)
@konrad-thorne (context)
He stops in his tracks, then looks down at his chest as the remains of the snowball on his chest, then he looks up, sees Konrad's hand still linger in the air from throwing it. He shakes his head. He has a feeling this will end up interestingly.
"Alright. It's on." He smirks and forms another snowball in his hand and throws it back at Konrad, aiming for the head.
starter ╲╲╲ CLOSED for @konrad-thorne !
day ╲╲╲ Dawson Slater’s 67th birthday celebration
›››
It had been twenty-five years since Devon’s father passed away. And it had been thirty years since she had actually seen him. She remembered the day vividly. It was her ninth birthday and the day before he was deployed for the third time in his life. The Slater’s celebrated her birthday at their new home in Houston, Texas; a big change from Honolulu, Hawaii. Their morning was spent at horseback riding stables enjoying the fall day and the afternoon was filled with food, bouncy-houses and way too many popsicles with her friends and family. Dawson stood next to Devon proudly as it was time to blow out her candles, basking in the last few moments they day together (even if they didn’t know it at the time.) His blue eyes mirroring hers as the sound of his deep voice singing happy birthday rang in her ears to this day.
The memories feeling so distant now at her age but Konrad kept Dawson’s memory alive through the years for her. Losing her father so young took a toll on her upbringing. Going from having a strong union to depend on, she quickly grew up once Dawson never came back home. Her mother had been defeated in every way, slowly losing herself through the years due to her battle with drugs. Needless to say, she was grateful to have Konrad’s consolation the past few decades.
She walked up to the familiar residence on 152W 11th St. and knocked on the door, holding the bottle of wine under her arm. She didn’t try to make it a habit of letting herself in but the cold air was making it hard not to. Another knock, harder this time.
“Chief Thorne. I’m– pardon my French, fucking freezing out here!” She whined, stepping around to peak inside their window.
