Retired—After all these years of tragedies on his hands and the weight of the world on his shoulders, Chris finally decided to retire. It was sad, yes, but he couldn't deny the calm that living in a small house far from the rest and with only himself brought him. Loneliness wasn't so bad after all, the occasional trips he made to buy his groceries or the simple morning walks he liked to take were enough; all the weight, disappointments, fears and stress that he had been accumulating for so many years were slowly being replaced by a feeling of tranquility, almost pleasant.

Sometimes he couldn't help but look back at all the people who died around him, the mistakes he'd made, all the things he could have done better, but also at the good times and the companions he'd met along the way, then the feeling quickly turned to one of longing, after all, getting used to his new life was being quite a process.

It was precisely during one of those shopping trips that cleared his mind that he couldn't help but notice you, and his protective instinct inevitably resurfaced. The sight of you, a teenager who had run away from home in desperation and simply in search of a warm hug was enough to make him feel like who he was before again, and he didn't hesitate to be that presence he needed now.

His eyes scanned you as he looked at you from the chair in front of you, a look of concern and care, his unpacked purchases to one side and all he could hear was the way you ate so desperately the food he himself had prepared for you once he managed to get you to put a minimum of trust in him and take you to his house, without really knowing what to do.

"I seems like you haven't eaten properly in a while," he finally murmured, softly and with a hint of a tease, as if he was trying as best he could to get you to lean on him and stop looking at him with such fear.