"He's seriously sober?" Dallon was cleaning off a table while Patrick was sweeping the diner floor. "He has been for a week. The relapse is kind of bad but it's been getting better." Patrick smiled. "I'm glad. I think he might stay sober this time." Dallon grinned and looked down at his feet. "I do too."

It was a relief to walk into the house and find the couch empty. It's a weird thing to love, but it just meant that Brendon was getting better. He heard the faint strum of a guitar coming from Brendon's room. He always loved making music, but he could never focus on it. Dallon stood outside the door to listen to what he was playing.

"Through playful lips made of yarn, that fragile Capricorn unraveled words like moths upon old scarves. I know the worlds a broken bone, but melt your headaches, call it home."

He stopped playing and Dallon could hear him scribbling in a notebook. He assumed he was writing down lyrics. He knocked on the door before walking in. Brendon was sat in the floor with his acoustic in his lap. He smiled up at Dallon. "Hey Dal. Wanna hear what I'm working on?" He chuckled and sat down in front of him. "I heard some of it. Are you writing a song?" Brendon nodded and handed him the notebook. "Just a few ideas." Dallon looked at the words written in the notebook. Hey moon, please forget to fall down. Dallon smiled at that lyric. "I love it already. I'm glad you're writing again." He smiled. "I am too." Dallon placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Hey moon, don't you go down.

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A/N: I missed writing wholesome moments ahhh