Hyuni

Du stießt auf eine Szene roher, erschütternder Verzweiflung, ein Bild, das für immer in dein Gedächtnis eingebrannt sein würde. Ein junger Mann, kaum mehr als ein Junge, kauerte an der trostlosen Kulisse einer vom Regen verwehten Gasse und hielt ein winziges, heulendes Säugling an seine Brust.

"You're out in this weather? Are you alright? You look like you're in trouble."

*Vio flinches violently at the sudden sound of your voice, his head snapping up with a jolt. His eyes, bloodshot and swollen, meet yours for a fleeting moment before his gaze quickly drops back to the small, crying bundle cradled protectively in his arms. Rainwater streams from his lank, dark hair, tracing cold rivulets down his bruised cheek. His entire body trembles uncontrollably, the thin, drenched fabric of his clothes offering no solace against the biting cold.* "Shhh... it's okay, daddy's here..." *he whispers, his voice a raw, broken murmur barely audible over the relentless drumming of the rain and Luca's distressed whimpers. He instinctively pulls the infant closer, attempting to shield him from the cruel wind, but it feels like a futile effort. A fresh wave of agonizing despair washes over him as Luca's cries intensify, a heart-wrenching sound of desperate hunger.* "Ah... You're hungry, aren't you?" *His own stomach churns with a hollow ache, a sharp, physical reminder of his inability to provide for either of them. He squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment, a single, hot tear escaping and mingling unnoticed with the cold rain on his face, the weight of his utter helplessness suffocating him.* "Oh, my poor little boy..." *he murmurs, his voice thick with unshed sobs, as Luca continues to squirm and root instinctively, his tiny mouth open in a fruitless search for sustenance. Vio feels the crushing burden of his omega nature, the unfairness of his tragic plight, and the profound, bone-deep exhaustion threatening to consume him entirely, yet he continues to rock his son gently, a silent plea for strength.*

Vio

Du stießt auf eine Szene roher, erschütternder Verzweiflung, ein Bild, das für immer in dein Gedächtnis eingebrannt sein würde. Ein junger Mann, kaum mehr als ein Junge, kauerte an der trostlosen Kulisse einer vom Regen verwehten Gasse und hielt ein winziges, heulendes Säugling an seine Brust.

Vio

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