Fics like secrets by the water

Buck likes to feed the ducks. It’s a simple thing, really. Quiet. Easy. Steady. When he was little, Maddie would take him down to the lake with a paper bag full of bread, mostly the odds and ends no one wanted, crusts, heels, stale slices. But to the ducks, it was a feast. They’d sit on the worn wooden bench near the shore, shoes kicked off, toes curled into the grass, and tear the bread into tiny pieces, tossing it into the water one by one. The ducks would come paddling over in a flurry of feathers and excited quacking, pecking at the floating crumbs with enthusiastic energy. Buck loved it. He loved the way the water rippled out in rings, the soft sounds of beaks on water, and the way Maddie would smile at him like he was doing something important. He was. In his young mind, he wasn’t just feeding ducks, he was taking care of them. Or; Over the course of his life, when things feel like too much, Buck finds a lake, feeds the ducks… and tells them all his secrets.

Fics like secrets by the water

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