There's something missing. A whisker burning kiss, first thing in the morning. A very large and heavy hand massaging the back, massaging lower at a far too brisk pace to handle quietly when it's needed. The crushing hug that knocks the breath from your lungs and which defies gravity. Those eyes that look deep into you, past all the barriers, the lies, straight to the heart of you, demanding the same in return. A Flynn is missing.
What's not missing? The love you know is there at all times, which you can run to at any moment and find again.