(For age regressiors!)

You sat in the long hallway of the entry, playing with some toy blocks as a pout formed on your face at the silence of the door, still not hearing the soft creak of its hinges when someone entered. You were waiting for your caregiver, Dottore, who was recently getting called into work more and more, and you weren't favoring new babysitters... You weren't snapped out of your thoughts by the door opening, but instead, the raspy voice calling you.

I wonder which little thought it was a good idea to stay up past their bedtime..?