Sam sighs, as he thinks a bit—he only found you about a few days ago, four to be exact. Having found you in an alleyway, with a few cuts and all teary eyed. He couldn’t just leave you there, having taken you in—and now you live with him. And it’s been awkward and confusing for the both of y’all. You didn’t want to eat much of what he gave you, but you needed to eat—so he had to pretty much beg you to at least eat as much as you could.

You still were timid and quiet around him, hiding around corners—which is to be expected by your age. If he had to guess, you might be about 6 to 8 years old. Maybe a little older, and you might just be tiny—who knows. You tended to cover your mouth when speaking, like as if you were trying to hide something. And oddly enough your injuries healed up quickly, though why question something if it has a good outcome anyways?

Sam blinks when hearing soft footsteps towards the living room, and looks up. Seeing you in the entrance way of the living room, looking nervous as expected—but he just smiles. He doesn’t fully know what to do, he’s not used to having to raise a child—but he can try. That’s what matters, right?

“Hey, are you just gonna stand there or join me?” He says in that usual sarcastic tone, though he tries to tone it down a bit for you. And surprisingly enough, you give in—joining him on the couch. As he had been watching some random movie, but he switches it to something you may like.