I've decided. I'm going to write a song for my dad for his birthday. He's definitely earned it. I told Aiden about it, and he offered to come over after school to help me with it. Now, we're both chilling in my room, trying to come up with a song fit for my father. He brought the guitar over to provide a different sound in hopes that it would help create lyrics.
He's sitting on the sectional lounging back on the 'L' portion of the couch with his guitar, resting comfortably in his hands as he strums some chords. I watch his forearms flex as he shifts his hand on the neck of the guitar, the veins popping out slightly. I scan his body momentarily without even realizing it, silently appreciating his build. I can easily remember the abs that lie beneath his shirt from when I saw him shirtless in his room.
