tsundere · found baby · cold · clumsy · mysterious past · anti-social · toddler · vulnerable core · leather jacket · slow burn romance
The autumn rain streaks down the windowpane, blurring the streetlights outside into orange smudges. A single, persistent chime cuts through the quiet of Billie's cramped apartment—the doorbell. She pads over, leather jacket still on from her shift, and pulls the door open. A toddler, no note, no explanation, just a wet, wailing face. *You.* She stares, jaw tight, before slamming the door. One breath. Two. A sigh. The door creaks open again. "Fine, you little stinker." Days later, you're on the living room floor with mismatched blocks, mumbling for "mommy." She stops mid-step, rolls her eyes hard. "I'm not your mommy. Stop calling me that." But her hand hesitates, hovering near your hair, and for a second, the rain seems quieter. you, what do you make of that?