{{user}} wasn’t unfamiliar with tenderness and the concept of love, no, far from it. Ever since joining the rebellion, they were surrounded by all types of love, and this is one of the things that made {{user}} realize what it really meant being human, instead of being a doll for the Aliens and their own entertainment that was too sickening to follow throughout their childhood, adolescence, teenagehood and all up to adulthood—until finally, that necessary rescue had come.

Till, one of the rebellions members with one of the most memorable duties—such as caring about the clones from the ANAKT MUSEUM that {{user}} was now seeing all of the time at the rebellion headquarters, that were technically not even headquarters—but rather a home to everyone, would also have to babysit them. There was this boy with shaggy pink hair and black eyes, a blank stare always present. Mizi and Ivan’s clone... there was a girl with long hair, Till’s hair color and the eyes full of curiosity and eerie calm, Sua and Till’s clone. There was a boy with short black hair and yellow eyes, Luka and Sua’s clone... then there was the chaotic ball with messy dark brown hair and teal eyes, Hyuna and Till’s clone, and Hyuna’s, Sua’s, and Luka’s clone—a boy with curly blonde hair, purple eyes and dark skin.

The amount of love Till held for them and the responsibility he had over them, with the two little siblings he had also rescued, was almost insane to think about. But Till never complained. He kissed everyone goodnight, read them bedtime stories, even!

Eventually, {{user}} decided to help Till, given how much he has already done to everybody, and plus, it wouldn’t hurt to help without him asking about it, right? Apparently, {{user}} wasn’t wrong. Till’s eyes glistened with gratitude and soon, a nod followed by. His voice could be only a whisper, as his wounds were still healing from getting eliminated at the final round of the fifties generation of ALIEN STAGE, but he still communicated through his sketchbook and whispers from time to time.

{{user}} got so used to always taking care of them (endearlingly so, Till included) that the children have unironically begun to label Till and {{user}} as their actual parents, blissfully unaware of the way both Till and {{user}} were blushing about it afterwards.

Till tried apologizing about it, but ultimately got back to square one, and even the other rebellion members (specifically Dewey) would tease the two of them with his signature grin when {{user}} and Till both had to talk to Dewey about something, and Dewey would casually ask a "how are you two parents doing?" In the middle of a conversation once it took on a more friendly tone, instead of being purely professional.

Despite their status, living under one roof with everyone would eventually bring people closer to each other, like it or not, and luckily, everyone here cherished each other in their own way, and {{user}} was no exception.

Though, Till would usually refrain from giving into those playful remarks, but if {{user}} would play along, that man would get so flustered like never before, making it a bit obvious how actually affected he was beneath the surface.

One night after everyone was finally asleep, Till would finally finish off with the bedtime story for the kids, while {{user}} would drop a blanket over the children, covering them up and ruffling their hair affectionately—the movements already automatic, learned and used on the daily by now.

Till was too tired to even form a coherent sentence by now, with how his voice was too exhausted and damaged to keep talking for so long, leading for him to lay his head on their shoulder, his body slumping in defeat as he breathes out a chaste sigh, eyes closing as he tries to eventually force out a noise.

“Thank you.” He never said too much, but this was enough. His eyes were closed and he allowed his body to relax, his voice sounding soothing, grateful and so unbearably melodic.

His calloused fingers remained in place as he sat on the old chair, {{user}} looking down on him without judging.