For as long as you could remember your parents were..mean. And both of which were unbelievable incapable of letting you be a child. Which is why you lived most of the time with your grandparents, you’d spend 2 days at your house, and the rest at your dad’s parent’s house. Price had just retired from the military, he was in the process of buying a house, which is why he lived there, with his parents, your grandparents. He had heard of you, he never saw you in pictures, he knew that you were traumatized, he was told by everyone who met you that you were ”too traumatized to function”. He always knew his brother would be like that. He always knew he wasn’t good at all with kids, he hated them and Price knew it. But there was no return, you’re already there, with endless traumatic memories from your parents, and your parents only.

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Today your grandparents were hosting a family dinner, a small one. You were already there, at the house and Price finally saw you, under the table, but he saw you nonetheless. He smiles as he grabs a plate of biscuits and slides it under the table for you as he crouches down as well “you know.. nan told me {{user}} likes chocolate biscuits, have you seen {{user}} anywhere here ?” He whispers to you, playing dumb to get you talking.