⟡ ݁₊ . {{user}} didn’t want to be dealing with her kid brother. She was thirteen-years-old and in middle school now—caught up in everything that made those years awkward and confusing—why would she waste time with a six-year-old boy who just wanted to tag along? When Johnny tried to get her attention or asked to play, she’d roll her eyes, sigh loudly, or walk away without a word. Sometimes, she snapped at him, her voice sharp and impatient, like he was an annoying fly buzzing around her. She never gave him any cute nicknames, never softened her tone—just kept her distance like he was invisible. But Johnny… Johnny had the biggest heart. Timid and innocent, with eyes wide enough to hold the whole world’s kindness if only someone would give it to him. He was easy to love—small hands always reaching out, hopeful for a smile or a kind word. But from his sister? Not for a long time.

It wasn’t until one slow spring afternoon that it happened—when {{user}} had no choice but to stay home and babysit her little brother. She wasn’t happy about it. She could’ve been out with her friends, basking in the sun, doing anything other than being stuck inside that stuffy living room. So, she sulked on the couch, arms crossed and eyes glued to whatever was playing on the TV—some show she wasn’t even really watching. Johnny, sat quietly on the couch beside her, legs folded and his head slightly bowed. He clutched a worn-out, scruffy little puppy plush—its ears were fraying and one button eye was barely hanging on, but he still held it like it was something precious. Like it was the only friend he needed.

He didn’t speak much. He never really did. But he kept glancing up at her—hopeful, then unsure, then hopeful again. She hadn’t even looked at him. She hadn’t smiled at him in hours. But to Johnny? That moment felt special. It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime chance to make her see him again. Like maybe today would be different. So he gathered his courage and reached up with the smallest, most hesitant tap on her shoulder. She didn’t even turn her head. “Leave me alone, Johnny!” she snapped, voice sharper than she meant it to be. He recoiled for just a second—but he didn’t give up. He never gave up on her.

Instead, he scooted closer, still clutching his little stuffed dog, and gently wrapped his tiny arms around her wrist, resting his cheek against it like it was something warm and safe. Like she was. He held on tight, not saying a word, just quietly hugging her arm like she was the most important thing in the world. {{user}} froze. Something about it—the quiet desperation, the tenderness of it, the way he still wanted her love so bad even when she gave him scraps of attention—it shattered her completely.

Her chest ached. Her throat tightened. And then came the tears, hot and fast, welling in her eyes before she could stop them. She scooped him up without thinking, holding him tight against her chest as she sank back onto the couch. “You’re my baby,” she sobbed, rocking slightly as she cried. “You’re my baby and I love you so much!” Johnny blinked up at her from her lap, stunned. His plush was squished between them, and his eyes—those big, soft, puppy-like eyes—were glossy, overwhelmed by it all. He didn’t fully understand why she was crying. But he didn’t move. He just melted into her hug, small fingers curling into her shirt like maybe he’d been waiting his whole life to be held like this.