spectrum【fem!reader .lookism】

. prologue

(Y/N) (L/N) was born an unwanted child.

Or maybe she wasn't. To be honest, she doesn't know whether her parents actually wanted her around or not.

They kicked the bucket so early in her life that she doesn't even recall a semblance of their faces.

That fact alone should've been enough to send her to an orphanage. There was no good in allowing a dependent child to wander around with no adult to supervise nor keep her alive.

But the sad truth is that today's system is rotten and corrupt.

No one stepped forth to claim her a blood relative. At the same time, the police did not bother bringing her to an orphanage, and no one took initiative to lead her there themselves.

The reason?

Their funds aren't enough for another child.

There are more important matters to attend to.

It is too bothersome.

(Y/N) (L/N) is age six when she grew to resent the world.

-

It was in one cool autumn night when a hand reached out to pull her from the depths she sank into.

Salvation came in the form of a kind middle-aged woman, who smiled warmly despite the fatigue behind her eyes.

"Young children shouldn't be staying up too late," she kindly spoke. "You need to sleep early to grow healthy and strong."

That woman does not look far more fortunate that (Y/N) herself was. Her clothes were as ordinary and cheap as it could get, and her hair doesn't seem to be as managed as every other woman who cares about her appearance.

She did not wrinkle her nose at the sight of the street urchin huddled before her.

"But this is my home," (Y/N) softly protested, eyes downcast in fear of judgement.

She doesn't want to see the moment when the nice lady's warm smiles turn into disdainful looks and frowns.

She knew she was unpleasant. (Y/N) is far too thin and small for someone her age. She was covered in mud from head to toe, and she smells as much as the trash bins around her.

(Disgusting. That was what she was.)

But the woman, rather than leaving her alone as everyone else did, only sat down across her and remained patient.

"I have a son," the woman started. "He is probably a few years older than you. An adorable one, if I say so myself."

(Y/N) peeked up at her catiously, yet curious as to the progression of the events. She cannot fathom where the conversation is heading.

"You seem like a good child too. If I were to be honest, I think my son would really love to have a lovely sister with us in the house."

Autumn nights are always chilly. Just a few months shy from the winter season. Most times, (Y/N) would spend her days huddling in the warmest corners she can find, with nothing but her own body warmth to chase away the cold.

But that particular autumn night, she realizes with surprise, seemed to be a bit warmer than usual.

That day was the day (Y/N) (L/N) became (Y/N) Park.

--

Unedited

A/N:
(Y/N) in this is actually the same age as Daniel, but it wasn't as obvious because she was too small compared to other children.