Rain poured down at a gallon-per-second rate, drowning out the sounds of heavy panting. The (h/c) female darted about the streets of London at around midnight, cradling something in her arms. (E/c) orbs, widened with fear, searched frantically about the abandoned, yet loud area. Looking up ahead, she spotted a rather large house, seemingly cozy and warm, especially in the raging, frozen winds. Using the last bits of her strength, she trudged toward the house, up the steps to a covered patio. Hot tears ran down her face as she placed the object that she was cradling down onto the welcome mat.
It was her baby, and she looked like a miniature version of the woman. Same (h/c) locks, that were short and soft, same (e/c) eyes that when were open, gave a new light in whatever place she was in.
Leaning down, the female gave her daughter a loving kiss on the temple, fresh tears still making their way down her cheeks.
"Good-bye, my angel. Take good care of yourself."
She took an envelope out of her pocket, silently thanking it didn't get wet. She placed it inside of the blanket the child slept in, and rang the doorbell. She turned and ran back into the storm, giving her daughter one last look, praying that whoever was on the other side, would treat her kindly. Then she disappeared, without a trace into the night.
~*~ Timeskip brought to you by FMB~*~
The obnoxious sound of the doorbell ringing made Arthur Kirkland angry. He had been working on the papers his boss gave him since about six in the evening, and was just about to stop until that horrible sound went through his house. Growling and mentally cursing whoever was at the door at this hour, he walked over, swinging open the door angrily, making the hinges whine under the pressure he applied.
Seeing no one, he was about to shut the door when a bundle of (f/c) caught his eye. He looked at the mat he kept by his porch, seeing a baby on it. Not sure what to do, he carefully picked up the young girl, looking around to see if anyone was there. When he saw nothing, he turned his attention to the child, who had stirred in his arms. Gentle (e/c) eyes were staring up at him, her face contorted into one mixed of confusion and happiness. Arthur bit his cheeks to keep himself from smiling, but it was proving rather difficult.
He brought her back inside, bouncing her in his arms softly. She giggled at this, her confusion wiping away, letting a broad grin plaster on her face. Now smiling, Arthur sat down with her on his plush couch, spotting an envelope in the blanket. He took it out, opening it in the neatest way he could with one hand, and scanned it over.
No information about the parents was on the letter, but the child's was. "Alright, _______, you must be about ten months, considering your birthdate is probably on (birthday). Am I right?"
Giggling in response, _______ grasped onto Arthur's index finger, playing with it. When he pretended to wriggle his finger free, he had to stifle a laugh at the girl. Her eyes widened, and she became mesmerized with his hand, waiting for it to move again. He repeated the action, making _______ burst into a fit of giggles.
Unable to keep the smile away from his face, he moved his hand away from _______, and picked the note back up. Flipping it over, he saw another letter written in almost unreadable scrawl. 'Please give her a good home, that's all I have to look forward to now.'
"Well, this is going to be difficult, but I don't see why not." He said, mostly to himself, but directing his response to ________. She yawned cutely, snuggling into Arthur's chest a little more. Feeling tired himself, Arthur copied her action, although much louder. Shaking his head, he stood up with ________, he walked up the staircase and into his room, lying down on the sheets. _________ lay on Arthur's chest, with his arms wrapped around her protectively.
She fell asleep quickly, but Arthur lay awake, worrying.
I haven't felt this kind of attachment since America... Then again, I haven't really wanted to since... That. Well, maybe she'll be different. I really hope so. My heart still has it's own scar...
Sighing, Arthur kissed the top of the girls head. "Please don't leave me, poppet." With his thought expressed, he leaned back into his pillow, falling into an uncomfortable sleep.