Page 69 of Daddy's Muse
Colby stood frozen, both hands clutched together in front of him, like he didn’t dare believe this was real. His lip trembled, eyes glistening with that fragile, childlike hope that always gutted me.
And then—
“There you go,” the worker murmured, carefully transferring the bundle of fur into Colby’s waiting arms.
Colby gasped, the sound breaking on his breath as the bunny settled against his chest. His fingers fumbled at first, like he was scared of holding too tight, but then he found his rhythm, one hand cradling the back while the other stroked the impossibly soft fur.
“Oh my god…” His voice cracked, and I nearly sank to my knees at the sight of it—my boy trembling, tears slipping over his lashes, smiling like the world had finally given him something that couldn’t be snatched away. “Pa—Bodin,” He looked up at me like I’d hung the stars in the damn sky. “Bodin, it likes me.”
My throat went tight, something fierce and dangerous clawing through my chest. No one—no one—should ever be allowed to see him like this but me.
I stepped closer, cupping the back of his head as I bent down, brushing my lips against his damp cheek. “Of course it does, sweetheart,” I murmured, low enough for only him to hear. “Everything good in this world belongs with you.”
The rabbit shifted, nestling deeper into his arms with a little sigh of its own. Colby gave a watery laugh, clutching it tighter like he never wanted to let go.
The employee said something about paperwork and supplies, but I barely heard it. My focus was entirely on Colby—on the way he looked holding that rabbit, fragile and overflowing, like his heart was finally too whole to hide anymore.
And I knew, with bone-deep certainty, that I’d burn the entire world to ash before I let anything take this from him.
I followed closely behind Colby, my hand brushing lightly against his back, though I didn’t need the contact—every instinct I had was already tethered to him, every sense attuned to his movements. His eyes were wide, still sparkling, and every tiny reaction—every breathless laugh, every tremor of excitement—made my chest tighten with a possessive ache.
The worker led us to a small office where adoption forms waited, but I hardly noticed the paperwork. Colby was practically glowing as he clutched the rabbit to his chest, stroking its soft fur with gentle fingers. My jaw tightened when the worker reached out to point something out about the rabbit’sfur—I saw Colby flinch, just slightly, at the touch, and my stomach twisted with an almost feral irritation.
“Don’t,” I murmured under my breath, just low enough for Colby to hear, my voice a growl that surprised even me. He looked up, wide-eyed, and I softened immediately, pressing a finger under his chin to tilt his gaze toward mine. “Sorry, baby. Focus on your bunny while I take care of the adult stuff, okay?”
He swallowed and nodded, the tiniest smile tugging at his lips, and I felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the sun or the room. I watched as he traced the curve of the bunny’s ear with delicate precision, and in my mind I saw the two of them sprawled across our living room floor later, surrounded by Colby’s stuffed animals, a chaotic tangle of paws, fur, and giggles.
I could see him—little Colby, knees tucked under him, bunny in lap, messy hair falling over his flushed cheeks, eyes sparkling like they always did when he was entirely himself, entirely happy. And I would protect that. Everything about that. With my life if I had to.
“Sign here,” the worker said, handing me a pen. I barely glanced at the form, my grip firm on Colby’s tiny hand as he adjusted the rabbit in his lap. Every instinct screamed to mark this as ours, to seal it with my presence, to make sure no one could ever reach between us.
I scrawled my name with deliberate force, my eyes flicking to Colby every second. He caught my gaze, and I could see the unspoken question in his tear-brimmed eyes.
“I’m sure,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head before I handed the pen back. The worker gave a polite nod, clearly sensing the intensity radiating from me, and I almost didn’t care. Colby was mine, and the bunny was his, and nothing else mattered in that moment.
The worker, clearly more comfortable with speaking to Colby over me, addressed him as he shared some facts about our new pet. “Like I was saying earlier, the shelter got her last month. From what we gathered, she was given up simply because the family’s children were refusing to take care of her, and I guess the parents didn’t want the responsibility. The mom dropped her off to us—said there was nothing wrong with her, she was good with the children when they bothered to play with her. Her check-up was normal, so she’s in perfect health. She’s a Mini Lop, which basically just refers to her floppy ears and small size.”
“Pilsby has floppy ears too,” Colby stage-whispered to me, making me laugh.
As we gathered the paperwork and prepared to leave, I draped an arm possessively over Colby’s shoulders, loving the way he leaned into me, small and pliant. I caught the way he looked down at the bunny, who was now in a carrier, eyes wide with awe and happiness.
“Ready to go home, baby?” I murmured, voice soft but possessive.
He nodded, holding the small carrier to his chest. I could already picture the two of them together in our living room—laughing, playing, curled up in little chaos. And I would make sure that vision became everyday, for as long as I could breathe.
* * *
We stepped through the front door, Colby clutching the carrier like it was a treasure more precious than anything else in the world. His eyes gleamed, and I couldn’t stop the surge ofpossessive tenderness that hit me every time he looked so small, so vulnerable, so utterly happy.
“Careful, baby,” I murmured, sliding my arm around his shoulders, keeping him close as we walked to the living room. “We’re going to get her all set up, okay?”
He nodded, and I could see the weight of his little grin in the way his shoulders relaxed. I carried the supplies we’d picked up from the shelter, laying out the food dishes, water bottle, and bedding while Colby knelt cross-legged on the floor, watching every move like it was a new adventure.
Later, after Colby had set up the bunny’s corner just the way he wanted, I found myself online, researching everything I could about rabbit care—diet, safe toys, environmental enrichment, even how to spot subtle signs of illness. I read forums, watched videos, and made a list of everything we’d need to make the bunny’s life perfect. My eyes flicked to Colby every few minutes as he arranged a tiny stuffed blanket in the cage, humming softly to himself.
“You know,” I murmured, stepping up behind him and crouching down, my hands resting on his small shoulders, “I’m going to make sure this bunny has the best life imaginable. Just like you, baby.”
He leaned back into me, eyes still wide with awe. “Really? You… really think you can do that?”
