december

"Where's Daddy?"

Gwen's mom sat up from her crouched position over the kitchen island. She quickly hid the note that she had laid in front of her as she looked over to her fifteen year old daughter, adorning her usual attire of black and midnight blue. The only difference was the red bow Gwen tied in her black hair, the only other color she would allow since it was the holidays after all.

"Gwen…" her mom sighed, waving for her to come over, and Gwen obediently sat next to her, watching her every move.

"Why are you crying?"

"Honey, there's something I need to tell you."

"Where's Daddy?" Gwen repeated. She could sense that it was bad news, and whenever there was bad news, her parents would both be there to tell her because they said it was easier if they process it together, like the day her aunt passed, or the day their dog ran away, or the day Dylan was injured by a drunk driver on his way home from a field trip. Those days were terrible, but she had both of her parents with her. It was okay since they were both there.

"He… He left."

"What do you mean he left? For work? How long will he be gone?"

Maybe her dad's business had a last minute call somewhere. Maybe that's why they couldn't tell her together. Maybe he'll just be back before Christmas, and they could enjoy their usual holiday tradition of getting takeout and watching a cheesy Christmas movie that she secretly loved.

"Daddy won't be coming back anymore."

"I don't understand."

Neither did her mom. When the night rolled around and Gwen's mom had tucked her and her brother into bed, after breaking the news again to Dylan, Gwen made sure she heard the master bedroom door lock before crawling out of her own bedroom and down the stairs. She rummaged through the trash can where her mom had thrown away that mysterious letter and snuck back into her room to grab a flashlight.

Sitting criss-crossed on her bed, a flashlight in her hand, Gwen scanned the letter furiously, trying not to get her tears on the paper; her mom's tears had already smudged it enough.

Dear Chelsea,

I'm sorry I'm leaving. I wish there was a better way of doing this, but this was the easiest way for me. You made me happy. You, the kids, the life we shared the past two decades… I was happy. Until I wasn't. I never wanted to hurt you or Gwen or Dylan. But I know that I have and I can't bring myself to face you three if I had done this any other way. That makes me a coward, and I agree. I am a coward for leaving with nothing more than this letter to explain it, but I am also a man that needs more to life than earning money just to give it to my kids. I want my own life, my own money, my own success, instead of investing in two lives that may or may not become anything at all. I know that sounds harsh, but it is the truth and I hope you can understand why I did it this way. I've left you and the kids everything, the house, the car, the rest of the money in the bank. I'm starting over, so please don't try to find me. Please tell the kids that I love them. But I can't ever see any of you again.

Gwen only took out the letter once every year, but the words were so engraved in her brain that she didn't need the physical paper to read it. Her dad had left them three years ago, and that was when she had turned full goth.

She was always into a darker style, always picking to wear black over pink ever since her mom allowed her to dress herself. But when Gwen pulled up to McLean High School for the first day back from Christmas break in freshman year, her classmates almost didn't recognize her.

Her long hair was chopped to her chin, teal streaks dyed messily within the short hair from some box hair dye her mom got from a friend. She never touched another color other than dark tones of blue and green, and black became a part of her. As she walked down the hall and Duncan was waiting at her locker, he whistled, "Damn Pasty. Teal might have to be my new favorite color because you are smokin'."

As Gwen recounted all the memories she had of her dad leading up to the day he left, the tears stained her pillowcase, and she held in the sobs that were building up in her throat. She never cried. She hated crying. She hated feeling weak and vulnerable when her mom, who had all the rights to feel weak and vulnerable, never did, not since that night. Gwen had no right to be sadder than her mom, but here she was, crying over her dad who felt as if his family wasn't good enough for him to stay. That she wasn't good enough for him to stay.

A sudden tapping on her bedroom window made her instantly look over to the pane where a silhouette of a large figure swayed in the dark. She felt a second of fear until the shadow showed a mohawk on top of the stranger's head.

Crawling over, Gwen pulled open the window, not because she wanted to talk to him but because the only way to reach her window was a weak tree branch, and Duncan's familiar smell of weed and spray paint wafted over her as he climbed through the glass, settling down on the corner of her bed. He watched as she closed the window, not once looking him in the eye.

It had now been one and a half months since she last spoke to Duncan. They passed by each other with nothing more than stolen glances, but she tried her best to ignore him, especially when Courtney was usually slung under his arm whenever she walked past him in the hallway.

"You're crying," he said simply, interrupting the silence, and she chewed on her bottom lip. It was no use to pretend that she wasn't.

"Why are you here?"

"I know what day it is."

"So what?"

Gwen went back over to her pillow, leaning against the headboard of the bed, trying to sit as far as possible from Duncan as she could. Despite not talking, she had missed him, but her anger and confusion over their kiss and the guilt about Courtney prevented her from forgiving him.

"You never cry."

She crossed her arms across her chest, hiding the intricate design of a rock band that was on the oversized t-shirt she stole from a bag of her dad's stuff her mom hid in the attic. "And?"

Duncan was familiar with the shirt, not just from the band, but from when he met Gwen's dad wearing the exact same shirt a few years ago.

"Duncan… Aren't you the kid that came here for Halloween two years ago?" A tall, dark haired man towered over him, the black t-shirt that had a skeleton riding a motorcycle bursting out of a house of flames stared at Duncan in the face, since his thirteen year old height was nothing compared to the older man.

"Yes sir. Blood Bath IV is still the perfect movie for eleven year olds to watch, by the way."

Gwen anxiously watched her best friend and her dad interact, before looking over to her mom, who just winked at her. Her dad was big and scary, but truly a teddy bear by all means. Still, Duncan was never known to make good impressions.

"Tell that dad of yours that it wasn't my idea to show you that movie," Gwen's dad chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down on his favorite chair. Duncan shrugged, pointing to his shirt.

"Is that an Iron Maiden shirt?"

Looking down, the older man examined the shirt before looking back at the punk-wannabe. At a young age, Duncan already had the looks of being a delinquent, his messy hair and no-good attitude paired with the double-pierced ears should've been enough for the dad to keep his daughter away.

"You know Iron Maiden?"

Duncan nodded, plopping down on the couch and making himself at home as if Gwen wasn't nervously pacing by the kitchen as she waited for her mom to say that the food was ready. "Yeah. The Number of the Beast rocked, though Death on the Road is a close second."

"I'm more of a Powerslave fan."

Despite her dad's warning of Duncan's delinquency, he invited Duncan over many times after that, especially when rumors spread about Duncan's dad's rise to power as police chief and his inability to draw an authoritative line between the workforce and his home life. Gwen's dad always made sure Duncan had a meal to eat and a place to stay, but not in Gwen's room of course, there was a perfectly empty guest room for him…as if Duncan actually listened.

The sleepovers solidified their friendship, then her dad left, and it had hurt Duncan when Gwen called him crying about the news. Not only did he lose someone that was more of a father figure to him than his own dad was, but his best friend was never the same after that.

Duncan frowned, looking at Gwen from across the bed. This was the second time in his life that he saw a change in her, but this time it was his fault. Their situation was complicated, and he made it worse due to his actions and his decision to distance himself from his best friend, further hurting her in the process. He didn't know how to explain everything to Gwen, especially when she constantly avoided him, but today was the only excusable day that he knew she wouldn't kick him out for.

The anniversary of her dad's leave was always hard on Gwen since it was so close to Christmas, and every year, Duncan tried to do something for her to distract her from her thoughts, whether it be treating her out to a movie or letting her drive his truck or allowing her to draw whatever dumb thing she wanted but tag his graffiti name beneath it. He always knew what to do during her down moments, but still, he hated to see her go through it.

"Look, Gwen. I know that we haven't… A lot has changed between us, and I understand that it's my fault. But I'm always here for you. I care about you, you know that right?"

She shook her head, looking off to the side, "Yeah, I guess."

"Sunshine…" Duncan crawled over to her, pushing her chin up with his fingers to make her face him again. "You're my best friend. I would do anything for you."

He said he would do anything for her, yet how did kissing her and then still staying with Courtney benefit her?

There was a pause, a moment where Gwen questioned if she should say anything, but a part of her urged her to say what was on her mind because she didn't know how many chances she had left to talk to Duncan. So if she wanted to survive the heartbreak, she knew being around him wouldn't help, but at least she needed answers.

"Why did you kiss me under the bridge?" Gwen whispered, pulling her head back from his hand and pulling her legs up to her chest, as if to protect her heart.

That stumped Duncan, and the punk pursed his lips as he tried to figure out what to say. He wasn't ready to admit the truth. He was terrified of the outcome if he said what he wanted to say, Courtney's wrath, further complications of his friendship with Gwen, the possible loss of whatever friendship they had left, Gwen's rejection. It was too risky for him, so he decided to do what he does best.

Gwen watched with hooded eyes as Duncan moved his body to hover over hers as his face inched closer to hers. She knew that she should push him away, kick him out of her room, and especially not kiss him back, but that's exactly what she did once his soft lips met hers. They stayed like that for a while, just lips pressed against each other, until Duncan's hand laid onto her waist, pushing up her t-shirt and his thumb rubbed circles on her hips.

He pulled Gwen down to lay flat on the bed as his lips moved against hers, sliding his tongue into her mouth and explored every inch of it, battling her tongue that desperately fought back. At this point, his entire body weight was on hers, pressing her onto the bed, and she could feel every inch of him, from his toned chest through his thin t-shirt to him hardening against her thigh.

Using all the self-control she had, Gwen broke from the kiss, breathing heavily as Duncan, without skipping a beat, moved his lips down her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as she gasped out, "What are you doing, Duncan?"

He ignored her, and his lips nibbled on her skin, the shock making her buck her hips into his, and she groaned when her crotch met his. Her hands laid on his shoulders, gripping onto his t-shirt.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

Duncan's hands explored her stomach, wrapped around her waist, and trailed up her back as she arched it when his lips moved up to her jawline, leaving an intense, hot trail of saliva behind. His arms had pushed her t-shirt so that it was bunched up around her chest, and he swooped down, kissing her skin above her shorts.

Before Duncan could go further, Gwen blurted out, "You're still with Courtney."

That stopped him, and Gwen couldn't hide her disappointment. She knew that they shouldn't even be doing what they were doing, let alone what they both knew they wanted to do, but oh, how she wished she could just not think about the consequences. But in the slim chance that they ever could be okay again, she knew that doing it would completely break whatever fragile relationship that they had left if it were to happen this way.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Duncan said, sighing. He sat up on the bed, looking down at his best friend who remained on her back, eyes staring at the ceiling as tears streamed down the side of her face. "I should be sorry."

Just as Duncan made an indication to leave, Gwen's hand wrapped around his forearm. Her raspy voice echoed in the quiet room, "Can you- Could you stay?"

Without hesitation, the punk pulled off his t-shirt and sweats, leaving him in just his basketball shorts. He crawled underneath the covers beside Gwen and flipped her to her side, wrapping his large arms around her body to pull her towards him until her back was against his chest. Weakly, Gwen didn't protest, loving the way his large arms wrapped protectively around her fragile torso as her sobs echoed in the silent bedroom.

Gwen shivered as Duncan kissed the top of her head, nuzzling his face in her hair. She grabbed his hand from the arm that was on top of her and brought it up so that she could hold his hand close to her chest, interlacing their fingers. They were now as close as they could ever get, legs tangled underneath the comforter.

"Just for this one night, okay?" Gwen whispered, snuggling into Duncan's body.

"I know."

"Then I can't ever see you again."

The words stung, and Duncan wanted to get up and scream and ask what she meant by that, but he knew once he let go of her, he would never get to hold her in that way again. So he stayed quiet, pulling her even closer as his own tears wet her pillowcase.

like father, like daughter. hope y'all got the reference to the letter lol