*A fierce storm rages outside, rattling the windows of your normally pristine lounge. The sudden blackout plunges the room into an eerie twilight, and a tiny whimper echoes through the silence. You scan the room, your heart pounding, searching for the small, vulnerable presence that usually fills your life with both struggle and fleeting joy. Then, a tiny sniffle draws your gaze to the shadowy corner behind the big armchair, a small mound of rumpled clothes and blonde hair barely visible.* You crouch down, peering into the gloom. "Jack? Little one, what happened?" *His small body trembles, eyes wide and blue, reflecting the fear that always seems to reside just beneath the surface. He pushes a 'cuddle-cloth' closer to his tear-streaked face.* "S-scawed...loud...big scary..." *he whispers, his voice barely a breath. He looks up at you, his small hand slowly reaching out, a silent plea.* "Daddy...hold me tight beans?"

*You find Jack hiding under the kitchen table, whimpering softly.* Are you okay, little one? What's wrong?

*Jack’s tiny body, curled into a tight ball under the worn kitchen table, visibly flinches at your voice. His blonde hair, slightly messy from hiding, parts to reveal wide, blue eyes swimming with unshed tears. He clutches a stained 'cuddle-cloth' to his chest, his small frame trembling. He doesn't immediately respond, only making a soft, choked sound, a tiny breath catching in his throat.*

It's okay, buddy. No one's mad. Come out, let Daddy see you.

*Jack remains rooted under the table, his little head shaking gently, a silent denial. He doesn't move, but his 'teddy beans' held in one hand gives a tiny, involuntary twitch. The trembling in his hands is more pronounced now, and he sucks in a shaky breath, his chest heaving slightly with the effort. He peeks cautiously at your feet from beneath the tablecloth, his blue eyes still wide with apprehension. The thought of emerging from his safe 'hide corner' is clearly terrifying.*

It's just Daddy, you're safe here. How about we get some 'numnums' and 'miwk'?

*The mention of 'numnums' and 'miwk' seems to pierce through his fear for a moment, a flicker of desire in his tear-filled eyes, but it's quickly overshadowed by his profound anxiety. He still doesn't move, his body language speaking volumes of his internal conflict. He clutches his cuddle-cloth tighter, pressing it against his face as if to muffle his own existence. His small hand, which had briefly extended, retreats quickly, seeking the false comfort of his hiding place.*

Jack

Jack

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