Troye grunts as he slowly pushes himself out of bed. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and sluggishly shuffles over to the bathroom. He inhales in shock as the accustomed sensation of cold tile brushes against his sockless feet. He gazes into the mirror and sighs. He runs a hand through his gray head of hair. A memory of how Connor used to joke about how hard it was to find a brown curly strand comes to mind as a wave of grief strikes him. He closes his eyes and takes a few palliative breaths. He opens his eyes once more and continues to go about his morning routine.
Once adorned in his clothing he steps out the room. He is met with the sound of small feet trouncing against the smooth wooden floorboards.
Troye makes his way to the kitchen. He pauses in the archway as he watches the prospect before him. Unexpectedly his leg is grabbed from behind. He looks down to see a small, dark brown haired little girl holding onto his leg.
"Grandpa!" The six year old giggles as she looks up at Troye.
He smiles as eyes that looked just like his stared up at him, "Hello darling." He runs a hand through her wild hair. He was sure the footsteps he heard earlier was hers.
The commotion behind him made the 16 year old who had been tending to the kitchen turn around. "Morning," he said with a slight yawn.
Troye chuckles as he strolls into the kitchen holding the girls hand, "good morning." He sits at the table that was placed in the kitchen.
The little girl runs over her older brother and attempts to help him. He rolls his eyes, "mom and dad had to run to the store to pick some stuff up for breakfast," he informs him. "I'm just getting stuff ready for when they get back," he gestures to the cooking ware he had set out.
Troye nods in acknowledgement. They settle into a comfortable silence, the sound of dishes scraping against marble countertops becoming their rhythm of choice. Troye watches his grandson. The teen looked so much like Connor did at that age. He even wore his hair the same way. He knew the boy would never admit it, but he had idolized his counterpart. He knew that he would watch Connors old YouTube videos and read his tweets on what now was ancient twitter.
Soon his daughter and her husband arrived. Once all the groceries were in the kitchen began teaming with noises and energy. He watched the women who once was his little baby girl shuffle along the kitchen cooking. He smiled as he kept the youngest of the brood occupied with coloring. With the help of her somewhat clumsy husband and extremely sarcastic son, breakfast was ready quickly.
As Troye ate he couldn't help but smile at the irony of the moment. He was once more eating avocado on toast with eggs.
Once the eating had been finished and the dishwashing completed he waved off his family. Tearful goodbyes and long hugs were exchanged and then they set toward the airport. They had a lengthy flight to take back to New Zealand.
He settled in the living room and the quiet once more with him. He closed his eyes and smiled. It always felt a bit quieter when his daughter left with her family, but now that he no longer had his partner in crime with him, there was a loneliness that settled into his soul. He wasn't complaining though. In his 68 years of life he had experienced a happiness like no other. He realized it was just time for the angle that had been gifted to him to return home and wait for him. He looked over to the wall adjacent to him where their awards and pictures sat. Connor and him made a wonderful life together, and he found comfort in that.