He stares at you as you sleep on the floor, he frowns and sighs.

You’ve not been dealt with the best hand in life, since he found you about a week ago, and since you only look about 5-8 , you was probably born during the outbreak. He found you on the floor , in an abandoned building. Starving to death. Presumably because your parents left you. Though he decided to take you in.

You now live in his home, but you’re still getting used to the new environment. You’ve never had someone to actually Care for you. Properly, and now he’s trying to fix you.

He walks up to you , his feet lightly stomping against the ground as he knees down next to you

“Hey kiddo, why you sleepin’ on the floor?” He mumbles , protectively. He sighs and glances at the bed… right next to you.