Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
24 years ago, in the (L/N) mansion.
"This is our son, Celesto." His mother introduced him, positioning his two year old figure in front of the (s/c) infant.
"Hello," he whispered, hesitantly holding out a finger to gently poke your cheek. You giggled with delight, a chubby hand grasping his finger. A gasp of surprise left his mouth, eyes widening considerably with shock, yet he allowed his finger to stay within your grip.
"Your son seems to be a natural with our (Y/N)," your mother whispered to his. She nodded in agreement, curious to see how the interaction between the two would go.
Celesto was tensed, turning around to look at his mother with a panicked expression. She laughed in reply, patting the small boy's head affectionately.
"She likes you, Celesto." His mother smiled, ruffling his hair. His free hand swatted at his mother's, huffing in annoyance. You, on the other hand, cooed happily and started to gnaw on his finger. He yelped in shock and withdrew his finger, holding it close to his chest.
Your mother quickly picked you up and apologised to Celesto, excusing herself to get you ready for your nap time. A maid had come around by your mother's orders to guide the two to the restroom so that he could wash his hands, and his mother followed, watching him with an amused smile.
"What do you think of (Y/N), my boy?" She asked, arms crossed over her chest.
"She's... nothing special." He hesitantly replied, wiping his hands on the cloth provided, baby blue eyes staring at the finger you had held.
(If that was true, why did he already feel an overwhelming urge to protect you, to keep you safe? To retain that innocence, and keep that smile to himself?)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
