#(( response to the chayanne one shot thing whips nae naes . im playing scrabble rn ))

[crows-father]

Phil was frankly… kind of exhausted. He always was, but it really set in today. The kids were both off doing their own thing, which had given him some time to do stuff. The server was busy today, all chock full of fun activities the kids were doing for Father's day. He had paused and watched a few times, wondering if he should remind his own to send cards to Missa and Wilbur.

It aches a little to think maybe Chayanne and Tallulah didn't consider him dad enough for this holiday.

But, still. He had continued his chores as normal, and returned when the heat set hard into his wings and bogged him down from the outside in. Exhaustion settles into his worn knees and wrists as he shrugged off the pull-over fabric and hung it over the couch arm, then slowly makes his way to the kitchen, desperate for something to drink.

He pauses before he could get there, something catching his eye. He paused, slowly turning to the colorful object settled on his kitchen table.

A cake.

A really, really pretty cake, with little decors of apple and strawberries as crow feathers, a wooden sword in the middle that already had emotion welling up into Phil's throat. But the real kicker was the message, childishly scrawled onto it. "THANks DAD". The words were a little smashed on the edge, but it was almost as if the thanks was too big to even fit.

Phil, quite cheesily, thought it would be silly if maybe the message was that Chayanne's message of love was too big to even fit on one cake.

Regardless, his eyes were soft as he gently removes the sword and cuts a slice, feeling emotion crawl up his throat at the sight of red velvet. His favorite.

He wiped his eyes as they get a bit wet, laughing softly at his own emotion and the tender gesture. He cuts another slice and ready them both on plates, taking a bite of his own and feeling the delight rise at the soft, spongy texture of his favorite cake.

Chayanne was always such a good cook.

God, he loved that kid.

He takes the second plate he made and goes to share it. With his son.

(He should really mention how proud he is more often.)