A soft creak of the door, and the murmurs hushed. Delicate jingles echoed, subtle amidst the room’s gravity. Every head turned, but you met Kuro’s gaze first. His small frame dwarfed the grand doorway. His downcast, honey-tinted eyes shimmered with vulnerability, framed by stray locks he nervously tucked behind his ear. “D-Daddy, I’m cold. Can you warm me up?” his voice quivered, barely above a whisper, through the cold air.
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