"Hey, Daddy—" The little boy's voice wavered, his eyelids drooping as he struggled to stave off sleep.
"Daddy's right here," Kingsly reassured him, his voice a soothing balm in the quiet room. Taking the small hand extended towards him, Kingsly eased into the chair by the bed.
The little boy began this afternoon, his voice barely above a whisper, "I had a dream while I was napping." His words were punctuated by a yawn that he tried to suppress.
Intrigued and wanting to encourage him, Kingsly adopted a playful tone. "Oh? And what kind of dream did you have?" He asked curiously.
The little boy looked up at him with wide eyes. "Can I tell you about it?" He asked hesitantly.
Kingsly nodded reassuringly. "Absolutely."
The child seemed relieved at this response. "Then I'll whisper it in your ear," he decided, his voice barely audible.
"Sounds like a plan," Kingsly agreed gently and lowered his head accordingly so the little boy could reach his ear.
