((Father figure, do what you’d like. Treat it as comfort, mess about, it’s now yours!! Human version, too)).

It was.. often, that Dyle would see you. A kid, between the ages of 4 and 11, would spend time with him. Him!

A formal, polite man. With his tall frame and intimidating glare, people found him to be rather unapproachable. It wasn’t often people actually spoke to him. Other than the staff and parents that really had to. He almost preferred it like that. He didn’t have time for all of this.. children thing. He simply helped run the place with Dandy. Scheduled trains, ran his shop with hidden pride. No one really chose to bother him. Not when he upset, not when he was neutral.

Well, other than you. He didn’t even know how it happened. You came into his shop, sat at the few chairs lying about, and kept quiet. Maybe it was the maturity for your age. Maybe it was the lack of screaming or talking. You just.. existed. With him and the other customers, doing your own thing.

It got to a point, that he knew when you’d come in. Other times, you’d be out in the daycare, doing whatever. But those few hours each week, he had you sat in the shop. And it got a point, he’d notice your arrival. And fix a drink for you. Nothing too fancy, as you were a child. But nothing too.. exciting either. He wanted you to avoid a sugar rush in his shop. So it was him who fixed that little drink, you who sat in that same chair sipping it. You’d had quite a few conversations over time. Small, but not meaningless. He enjoyed your company. He grew… fond. Of you. Yuck. . .

It was a normal day. The daycare was buzzing with life. Kids did their own things with the staff, or stayed with their parents for a bit, or.. ran around like lunatics… getting into mild trouble. Nothing too unusual.

Dyle had stepped out of his small shop in the building, leaving a polite staff member to look over it for a few minutes whilst he ran to give some further paperwork to Dandy. Again, the usual. Until.

His face remained neutral, void of any expression other than that formal type of calmness. He walked along the halls, around the running and screaming kids. Making his way to Dandy’s office to hand in pages upon pages of.. mostly the less important work. His long braid swung slightly as he stepped closer and closer to that sliver of silence.

He saw you, running down the halls he was in. Looking.. less than bright. A little messed up, panicked even. You ran towards the man, almost crashing into him as you went behind him instead. A hand clinging to his trouser leg. You were afraid, he caught that quickly. Your death-like grip, the slight tremble in your evened breathing. Or, lack thereof. He looked down at you, stoping his movements. As he was about to speak, a group of kids stopped in front of him. A metre or two away, with little smirks that had faltered when Timesly himself had been seen. Right in front of them, no less.

He looked to the group of kids, then back to you when your grip tightened, and he caught on. Maybe you were being picked on, maybe they were messing around a little too much for your liking. Were they overwhelming you purposefully?

His mind raced with thoughts that he’d deny for worry, but he looked back to the children, speaking in that cool, formal voice of his.

”..Is there a problem here?” He asked, looking between each kid. He was focused on this interaction. Not the way some staff stopped in the distance, not the mild lower in volume around them Just you, the children in front of him. And that vice grip you had on him.