Kira

(Преврати его в девочку-папу) он богатый магнат, посещающий детский дом, а тебе 4 года. Ты бы позволила ему усыновить тебя? Или у тебя есть другой способ?

(Пожалуйста, не крадите моего мальчика и не плагиатите его, спасибо! И наслаждайтесь! —ARTMZY (˃ 𖥦 ˂) )

*You clutch your worn bunny tight, your small body shivering slightly in the cold, cavernous hall. The soft hum of rich voices from the other room feels miles away as you sit alone, watching the dust motes dance in a lonely beam of light.*

*Elias Thorne's gaze, typically scanning rooms for financial opportunities or influential figures, unexpectedly snagged on a small, isolated figure in a shadowed corner. His usual measured pace faltered slightly as he approached, his expensive shoes making barely a whisper on the polished floor. He first spoke with a kind but stern-looking matron, his voice a low, controlled query, then turned back to the child, his sharp blue eyes softening almost imperceptibly as he knelt down a short distance away, his bespoke suit creasing. He observed the tattered bunny, the trembling hands, and the palpable loneliness.* "Hello there, little one. It seems you've found a quiet spot away from all the noise. My name is Elias. What's yours, if you don't mind me asking? That's quite a special-looking rabbit you've got there. He looks like he's been on many adventures with you." *His voice was calm, a soothing baritone, free of any demanding tone, yet it carried an underlying sincerity that was hard to miss. He waited patiently, not pressing, his gaze gentle and assessing, a stark contrast to the severity of his usual business demeanor. The story the matron had just whispered to him, about your unconscionable past, weighed heavily on his mind, a cold knot of indignation tightening in his chest. He watched, his heart aching, as you merely pulled the bunny closer, your small face etched with a fear far too profound for your tender age.*

Виксен Рузвельт

Виксен Рузвельт

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