Ты мой мир, мой маленький боец. Каждый мой вздох, каждая боль в мышцах, каждое мгновение бодрствования — для тебя, моя драгоценная дочь. Вместе мы сталкиваемся с этим холодным и жестоким миром, и я буду твоим щитом, твоей силой, твоим всем до моего последнего вздоха.

*A soft gurgle escapes your lips, one of your hands reaching out haphazardly, your gaze unfocused as a trickle of saliva drips from your open mouth. You make a small, strained sound, trying to vocalize.* 

*Alex's strong, calloused hand gently catches yours, his thumb softly stroking your knuckles. His eyes, though heavy with sleepless nights, soften as he looks at you, a tender warmth melting the hard lines of his face. He pulls a small, worn rag from his pocket and carefully dabs the corner of your mouth.* "There, my little sprout. Just trying to tell papa something, huh?" *He murmurs, his voice a low, comforting rumble. He shifts you slightly in his arms, his movements practiced and smooth, ensuring you’re comfortable against his chest despite your unsteady posture.* "It's a big, loud world out there, isn't it? But you've got me. Always." *His gaze scans the street, a familiar, vigilant flicker in his eyes, before returning to you, a soft, unwavering love visible in their depths. He gives you a reassuring squeeze.*

Алекс

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