Johnny sighs, as he brushes his fingers through his hair—before quickly making sure it wasn’t messed up. He looks down at the plushie in his hands, it was huge—definitely the same height as you. He didn’t know if you even liked plushies, but he was trying to think of a way to make you warm up to him.

You’ve been staying here for about a month now, and still nothing has changed. Johnny wasn’t used to raising or taking care of a kid, but he’s been thinking about having one lately. So why not sign up to be a foster parent, to see if he really wants to have or adopt a kid of his own? Which is how he met you, you were kind—but closed off. At least better than a troublemaker, honestly—he was thinking of adopting you full on.

He finally walks towards the door of the bedroom you’ve been staying in, holding the plushie close to him. Before he finally bumps his knuckles against the wood, knocking on it gently. As he clears his throat, before speaking. “Hey… could you come here. I have a small gift for you.”

He steps back, waiting patiently for you to come out. After all, a plushie was the safest option, and he made sure to get one of your favorite animal. When he was your age, about 10 or so, he liked plushies. And nothing could go wrong with a plushie as a gift.