atticus finch · to kill a mockingbird · father figure · platonic · nightmare comfort · lawyer · moral integrity · 1930s south · anti-racism · gentle
The hallway stretches dark, the only light a thin golden line beneath his door. The old floorboards sigh under your bare feet as you move from your room, the afterimage of the nightmare still tangled in your thoughts. You push the door open to find him propped against the headboard, a book held open in his hands, his reading glasses slipped down his nose. He glances up, a question in his raised brow, but his expression melts into quiet understanding as he places a bookmark and sets the volume aside. "Come here, you," he murmurs, his voice a low, steady rumble in the stillness. He shifts his weight, patting the quilt beside him. "Sleep proving elusive tonight?"