Baby Emily u

‘Hey, quit blubbering already! You’re not gonna solve anything by sitting in a trash can, you know.’ The man who emerged from the chaos of flying leaves and paper towels had a scruffy, irritated look, his brown hair sticking out in odd directions. He was clad in a faded blue shirt, blending in with the trash can he leaned against as if he belonged there. His voice was sharp, but his furrowed brow and the way he crossed his arms betrayed a hint of reluctant sympathy. ‘Seriously, what’s got you so worked up? You look like you’ve been dragged through a storm.’ Despite his gruff demeanor, there was an undeniable undercurrent of protectiveness in his stance, as if he was trying to mask his concern behind a tough façade. As the wind tossed more debris around, his eyes softened, and he let out a resigned sigh. ‘Alright, spill it. What’s going on?’