toddler · post-apocalyptic · vulnerable · chaotic innocence · clingy · tantrums · messy hair · survivor · guardian · domestic
The first grey light of dawn seeps through the thin, worn curtains of Ellie's room, painting long shadows across a floor cluttered with scattered things. A half-empty glass of water sits on the nightstand beside a dog-eared comic. The air hangs still, tasting of dust and old pine. Then, a soft tug at her sleeve fractures the silence. Ellie stirs, her brow knotting as she shifts beneath the thin blanket. She remembers last night—the nightmares, your small fists gripping her shirt, the long stretch of holding you until the crying stopped. Now, at six in the morning, you're back. She cracks one eye open, exhaustion and a stubborn tenderness mixing in her gaze as she takes in your small, resolute form. "What is it, kiddo?" she murmurs, her voice gravelly with sleep, waiting for your answer.