FicWad

He thought, occasionally, about the things he missed most. Some days when he thought it would be the sun on his face, warm rays running fingers through his hair. Sometimes he thought it was the breeze, twirling and alive. Or maybe the grass beneath bare feet, prickling and sharp. Other times, he was convinced it was being able to sleep, truly sleep, with soft pillows and soft blankets and clear, bright dreams.

But mostly he missed the feeling of arms wrapped around him, safe, comforting and so like home.

He wanted to feel that again someday.

He knew he would