You were sitting at a coffee shop when a 5 year old boy ran up to you and hopped on your lap. He hugged your neck. "You're pretty!" He had brown curls, blue eyes, and pale skin. He had such an innocent little face. You heard footsteps behind you, and a deep voice groaned, speaking. "You can't just run off like that, Henson." The man scolded, his face was harsh. He must be the father.