Your hair was being yanked back painfully, your mouth covered as another blow was administered to your small body. Tears were slowly flowing out of your dulling (e/c) eyes, blood dribbling from wounds which were being created.
One of the boys in front of you snickered. "Are you willin' to give us that coin in your hand now?"
You shook your head, not even having the smallest amount of change to give to them. Seeing their angered faces only sent you further into hysterics and noticing this, laughed in pleasure before attacking you viciously once more.
One pulled out a switchblade and came up behind you, slicing off most of your gorgeous long (h/c) hair. The one holding you back now held the small amount you had left, waving you around like a doll.
Suddenly, though, you were dropped on the concrete and they all scampered away. A shadow loomed over you, making you look up to see an older man, his clothes grungy and a cigarette sticking out of his mouth, a grey wisp of smoke coming from the end.
His eyes narrowed slightly, just standing there waiting. "What's wrong kid? Go home to your parents."
First, you tried to get up but failed terribly. Then you looked up pitifully, tears in your eyes. "I-I don't got any..."
For a moment he stood there. Then he paced in his spot, his brows furrowed and a hand running through his blond hair before he shot you another glance. "Listen kid. I'm takin' you with me. But, and I mean but, only until I can get some orphanage to take you in. Got it?"
"Y-Yes sir..." You muttered, not really caring where you ended up. He sighed once more, lifting you into his arms. "T-Thank you..."
"Yeah yeah..." He muttered, keeping his arms protectively around you.
He carried you through the small town you lived in, giving off glares if anyone gave an odd glance in either of your directions. Neither of you spoke but you assumed that he didn't mind. Although all you wanted was for someone to just coo to you and assure you everything was okay.
You shifted slightly, trying to make yourself feel safe and cozy. The man didn't seem to mind, pulling your head to his chest and grumbling something in French is seemed.
Still, you held on, your face in his shirt (even if it smelt like cigarettes) and snuggling close. After a few moments, you noticed a blast of warm air, making you look up to notice you were in a home. It was large but rather dirty. Then again, you didn't expect much more than that.
Once inside, he sat you down on his couch, telling you to stay there and wait. He left you but you stayed completely still, just looking around the room and waiting calmly. All you wanted to do was lay down and rest for a short while, just have something to eat, for the pain to go away.
When the man came back in, you were on your side, curled up and trying to sleep but tears streaming from your eyes. He came over, placing his thumbs on your cheeks and wiped them away a bit roughly before forcing you to sit up.
Beside him lay a first aid kit which he opened, pulling out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton swabs. He dipped the cloth in the alcohol, putting it to any cuts or wounds you had, not warning you about the pain. Still, you sat there completely silent and well-mannered.
When he pulled away, tears were still streaming down your face. He looked at the bottle and back to you. "That hurt, didn't it?" You were frozen, not knowing if he'd get upset if you said it did. "I meant to use peroxide...that didn't make you feel better, did it?" You shook your head, wanting to just have him hold you close and tell you it was okay.
In reality though, he just messed your hair up slightly and grabbed bandages to put over any open wounds. Once he finished, he lifted you up in your arms and carried you away once more. He placed you in a chair in the kitchen, going to the fridge and rummaging through it.
He produced a small box and laid it on the table, sitting beside you and opening it to a bunch of sweets. Your eyes shone vibrantly, looking at the pastel-colored cupcakes and other goodies. Noticing you eying the cupcakes, he picked one up and handed it over to you.
Taking it, you carefully unwrapped it, waiting a moment before taking a bit into it and feeling favors explode in your mouth. The man smiled slightly, seeing your delighted expression. "My friend, Arthur, made them. All fresh."
"They're yummy..." You said softly before taking another bite and continued eating in silence. He watched, picking up a little crumpet himself and eating. Once you finished, you looked towards him, waiting in silence as he finished eating himself and watching as he put the sweets away.
"You seem tired kid..." He said to himself, looking back to you sitting there confused. "Come on kiddo...you can just..." He rubbed the back of his neck, taking a deep breath. "Just lay in my bed for a while..."
Nodding, you allowed him to lift you and carry you to bed this time. He opened the door to a room, his bedroom you presumed, and carried you to his bed. It was dark in there and smelt gross but you never had a room as far as you could remember and found a hint of comfort in it.
He threw the messy bed sheets off and made a spot for you to lay in before covering you up. Your gaze stopped him from leaving, kneeling beside where you laid down. "What? Do you need something?"
"Thank you mister..." You whispered, covering your face halfway with the blankets. "I-I don't care if I go to a...a orphanage or if I go back on da streets. You're the first person to show me t...that da world isn't too bad..."
He seemed taken aback by the response, looking questionably towards you. "How old are you kid?"
"You got a name, right?"
You nodded, uncovering your face slightly. "_____________..."
He looked towards you with softer eyes, stroking your hair. "Well...erm...I'm Francis...I guess since I know your name now." He scratched the stubble on his face and sighed. "Just...sleep for a bit...I'll set up somewhere for you to sleep after this..."
Again, you nodded, settling into his bed and shutting your eyes. Francis stood up, ready to leave when you spoke up again. "Francis...? How old are you...?"
He stopped and sighed. "Old kid...I'm old."
When you awoke next, Francis was asleep beside you, his arms wrapped around you and his shirt absent. Moving slightly, you tried to wiggle free of his grip and look around the house with little success. It took a good amount of time before you managed to slip out of his grasp and get off the bed to look around.
Slipping out of the room, you began peeping into a few rooms silently in the hallway where Francis' bedroom was. Then, you traveled out to the living room to find a young man, strawberry-blond hair and beautiful blue eyes, in the living room cleaning up Francis' mess.
You tried to hide before he spotted you but he came over to where you hid. "I haven't seen you around here before. Do you know Mr. Francis?"
Looking away towards Francis' door, you could feel the stranger coming closer. Quickly, you dashed into his room and shot beneath the spot beside him, hiding in his embrace.
The other man came in as Francis started stirring. He lifted you into his arms and looked towards the door. "Arthur? Wait...what are you doing here?"
"Well, I came for a visit. And...I peeped and saw you asleep and decided to wait. But it's so dirty, I started cleaning up the mess and then...well, this young lady came out and ran off when I asked her if she knew you."
Francis held you slightly closer, trying not to scare you anymore. "Remember that cupcake you ate before going to bed...? He was the one who made them for me."
You nodded but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway. "How did you get in?"
"The key of course." Arthur beamed, holding it up. "I'm sorry, I should've called first but I just went upon my own accord again. I'll just leave if you really want me too-"
Francis sat up, brushing your hair gently. "You already went through the trouble of comin' in...I guess you can stay for awhile..."
Arthur smiled and came over, sitting beside you and Francis. "When did this lovely little girl get here?"
Sensing your fear, Francis held you closer and brushed your hair. "Just yesterday. Some punks were beating her up so...she's staying for a while."
Arthur nodded again, looking innocently towards you. "What's your name love?"
"_-__________..." You whispered softly, holding tighter to Francis. His hand went on your back, patting it softly.
"Well...erm..." Arthur stepped back slightly. "If I were to bake some cookies, would you mind helping me...?"
Looking towards Arthur, you saw the sweet smile on his face and his hand held out, waiting for you to take it. Slowly, you reached out and took it, being separated from Francis and brought into his arms.
He poked your nose and carried you out. "Now, lets try not to make too much of a mess. Maybe you can handle the flour..."
Francis lay down for a minute before registering what had just been said. "Hey wait! Don't let my daughter touch the flour!" With that, he sprung out of bed.