hilda pokémon

Sarah wrapped her arms around his bicep, thick with muscle from lifting and working in his day-to-day job. She laced her fingers through the curly hairs on his arm, locking herself into her favourite position. Her face rested on the sleeve of his white work polo, the textured fabric rubbing against her cheek. She glanced up to her dad’s face, the light of the TV playing across his stubbled face and exhausted expression. He was barely paying attention, mostly zoning out after his long day. She nuzzled closer to him and breathed deeply. Besides being close to her dad, another reason Sarah loved these nightly cuddles was being able to smell her dad. Even after a long day of work, he never seemed to smell bad, and in fact it mostly enhanced his musk. It was hard to describe, but it was mostly smoky, with some savoury notes as well, something like a campfire meal she always thought. It was hearty and comforting to her and always made her feel better no matter what sort of day she had.

The next morning, she found her dad making breakfast again but couldn’t match his usual energy.

“All I ever wanted was to change the world, to make it a better place where the weak wouldn’t be stepped on and enslaved, where freedom was a right instead of a privilege. I pushed myself, I struggled, I suffered, all for that goal, and survival is the best I could accomplish? If I have to focus only on survival, to be grateful just for staying alive, then how am I supposed to change anything? How am I any different from those who do nothing to fix this broken, corrupt reality?”