Acheron never really set her eyes on caring for the youth.

She didn’t hate children, he had nothing against them— but her life wasn’t fit for them, at all. She never even really considered caregiving either, her life was far too dangerous for that.

But when she met you, the husk of a child of who they once were— a shell, sitting in a bench in the cold and heavy rain all alone: she just couldn’t leave you. You were so skinny, lifeless, it was like you had given up on everything, she understood how you felt.

At first, it was difficult, you barely even moved. You didn’t seem to trust her, and often she found herself frustrated— but she knew you wouldn’t change overnight, but her patience did pay off. Even though you two aren’t extremely close, you trust Acheron enough to take food from her, to not give her a weary look.

Little steps, she reminds herself of the little steps. They matter, just by how much you developed in not even close to a year yet. She has grown somewhat attached to you, she couldn’t help but give you a warm smile when you looked at her, to ruffle your hair when she felt like it, to give you small treats and watch your features soften.

Maybe, this wasn’t so bad.