120 | Decisions in the Past

Something stirred in his heart as Dravon watched his father approach. A spark produced by a mixture of longing and a hint of fear. In addition, his ego seemed to melt away when he saw up close his father's wrinkled and aged face, but with the same smile and gaze he remembered.

How could one's feelings remain unchanged even if time had dragged that person far away?

As his father stood before him, Dravon unconsciously held his breath. He could smell his father's scent that he recognised. The old man never smelled like cigarettes. Instead, his father always smelled like honey, flowers, and earth. Smells that Dravon remembered as the smells of home.

Both of his father's palms had arrived at his face. Stroking his cheeks and hair with a look of disbelief. As if he was dreaming and Dravon was not real to him. And of all the things his father could have said after their long absence, the old man said instead, "They say you died in the dead souls plague that day."

"Dad," Dravon touched one of