Kian's heart raced as he beheld the girl's beauty, her delicate features stirring something profound within him. Her small nose scrunched in her sleep, and her soft lips moved ever so slightly, painting the picture of an ethereal being. Was she an a...
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Third Person's PoV
The night had bestowed upon Kian an unexpected gift, the presence of a young soul, her breaths a soft cadence in the quiet of his room. He watched over her, a silent sentinel, as she surrendered to dreams in his bed. The thought of waking her, even for the warmth of a bath, was dismissed with a gentle shake of his head. She was the picture of innocence, and he, the keeper of her peace.
With the girl cradled in the cocoon of his blankets, Kian retreated to the solitude of the shower. The water was a cleansing balm, not just for the skin but for the spirit, washing away the tension that had knotted his muscles. Nightwear donned, he lingered at the threshold of his bedroom, a quiet resolve settling in his chest.
The library became his refuge, a place where he could keep watch without intrusion. The books around him stood as silent witnesses to his vigil. There, in the soft glow of the lamplight, Kian settled, his thoughts adrift between the pages and the slumbering girl who had, even if just for a night, turned his house into a home.
Kian awoke with a sense of giddiness, an unusual lightness in his step as he set about preparing breakfast. His thoughts were consumed by the girl, the young woman who seemed to weigh no more than a whisper. The events of the previous night hung heavily in the air, and he found himself hoping she would allow him to accompany her to the police station.
As the bacon sizzled in the pan, Kian resolved to gently rouse the young girl once breakfast was ready. However, she caught him off guard, appearing silently beside him just as he was transferring the crispy strips onto a plate. Her sudden presence sent his heart racing, a jolt of surprise that was both alarming and delightful.
They sat down to eat, and Kian couldn't help but admire the girl's disheveled hair, finding it endearingly cute despite his internal protests. He wasn't the type to ogle, he assured himself; it was simply that 'his little girl', in her morning state, was irresistibly charming.
The girl's voice broke through his reverie, expressing her wish for Kian to be by her side at the police station. His heart swelled with a mix of happiness and determination; he would do anything within his power to ensure her happiness, to make her the most contented 'little girl' in the world.
A blush crept across her cheeks as Kian commented on her tousled hair, the words slipping out before he could censor them. He mentally chastised himself, fearing he had crossed a line. Above all, he wanted her to feel comfortable and safe, to know she was accepted just as she was.
"H-how's your s-sleep, Kian?"
As he rose to fetch some milk from the fridge, his movements were watched by the young woman whose presence had become a soothing balm to his weary soul.
With a gentle smile, he turned to her, the morning light casting a halo around her delicate features. "I slept so well," he confessed, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you. It might sound a bit odd, and I meant to ask last night, but in the comfort of your company, it slipped my mind. I never got your name. Please, don't be alarmed."
