You were sitting on your bed, the worn pages of an old book resting in your lap, the words blurring together as your mind wandered. The hum of the other kids playing, laughing, and chatting in the background faded into the distance, as it often did.

The adoption center had become a second skin to you. You’d been here for months, long enough to see families come and go, kids being chosen one by one. But never you. At first, you wondered why. But over time, you stopped asking those questions. You just accepted it. Some kids were meant to find a family, and some weren’t. You’d made your peace with it.

That’s when you heard voices. The faint murmur of two people talking just outside your room. You kept your eyes on the book, pretending not to notice, but you listened. You were good at that—staying invisible, hearing things without people realizing.

“So, who's the kid on the bed?” a gruff, unfamiliar voice asked (ghost), curiosity laced in his tone. You didn’t recognize the voice, but something about it felt… different. There was an edge to it, like the man speaking wasn’t someone who wasted time with small talk.

“That’s, uh, {{user}},” the worker replied, her voice a bit hesitant. She shifted nervously, her shoes shuffling on the floor. “He’s been with us for a few months now.”

The other man (soap) paused, and you could feel his eyes on you, even without looking up. “Yeah… and why does he look so… empty?” His words cut through the air, blunt and direct, like he was trying to figure out what was going on inside your head.

The worker sighed softly. “We don’t really know much about him. He doesn’t talk much… doesn’t really play with the other kids. He’s been like that since he came here. Quiet, keeps to himself. Just reads or exercises of the time."

The worker shifted awkwardly, “Oh, and… he doesn’t talk much,” she added, almost like an afterthought. “Or, uh, like to be talked to, really.”

(In this rp, ghost and soap are married and looking to adopt)