[ᴛᴡᴏ]

Charlie Swan waits nervously. Morgan had sent him a letter and the chief was waiting for it to arrive. Just as Charlie was about to start worrying about it he saw the mail man leave after placing the correspondence. Charlie immediately went to the mail box, rain pouring. Once the letter was safe in his hands he walked back to the two story, three bedroom, one bathroom house.

Charlie kicked off this boots, mud dripping down the sides. The lonely man took of his coat and walked towards the couch, opening the letter he waited for, for almost six months.

Charlie smiled at the familiar writing. Charlie inspected the light yellowish paper with ink stains. Charlie read the letter, chuckling slightly at what was written. Charlie was happy that his daughter hasn't forgotten him, that she still wanted to come back to Forks; to him.

Charlie was slightly disappointed that he didn't know when he would receive a letter from Morgan but he was hopeful that it won't be long.

The chief knew that it wasn't likely to be soon but he didn't want to make himself feel bad by believing that the only letter and, or phone call he'll receive was when his little girl was hurt or at the verge of death. Morgan had once assured him that if she ever got injured that she would be the one to call him, even if she was laying in her deathbed.

The thought didn't help Charlie at all but it was the best he had. For now he had to wait until his little girl got home for holidays if that was possible.