He walked out of his room and dragged himself toward the kitchen, stopping only to feed his pet fish. Morty looked up at the food, pondering it for a moment before darting through the water to snatch it. He always questioned his food, yet he seemed so content in his bowl. The small little bowl. Adrian could only wonder what he would do out in the sea.
Being hungry himself, Adrian made his way to the kitchen. His parents always waited for him, breakfast ready and in normal routine. He loved my parents more than anything. Sometimes he’d stay up late at night., wondering what he would do if suddenly they weren't there to greet him in the morning. What if one day he woke up, went to the kitchen, and saw no one? No Dad. No Mom. No little Skye. Just him. All alone.
That wasn’t the case today, though. He walked into the kitchen and there they were, already awake, radiant in the morning light that poured in through the perfectly clear glass. His dad had his computer tablet in his arm and was going through files, while his mom was standing at the stove, making pancakes. Little Skye was in her high chair, giggling every time a bubble she made with her mouth popped. Adrian chuckled at the amused baby, then took his own seat, causing his dad to look up from his tablet.
"Good morning, Adrian,” his dad said warmly. His voice was ocean deep. It had the calming effect of a gentle tide. His face made a steady transition to his neck, which flowed to his rippling shoulders. His eyes were blue as the ocean and as deep as an abyss.
"Good morning," he replied. Adrian wished his voice was as low as his father’s. At eighteen, he was pretty sure his voice was done getting lower, though.
"How do you feel, sweetheart?" his mother asked. Her voice was gentle, soft, elegant. Her words came out gracefully. It was like her voice was made for his ears in the same way air was made for his