She was so cute and little I had to physically stop myself from picking her up and bundling her close.
The feel of her frozen body pressed against mine as we’d run through the snow had awoken something in me.
She was mine to hold, to care for, to nurture. And I wanted to.
There was a burning desire in my gut to take care of her, so she never looked up at me with sightless eyes again. Her scars broke a piece of my heart.