Page 4 of Saving Little Lina: Part One

“Yes, every day,” Joe replied. “But the joy Mike brings... it's worth the risk.”

The sunflower-bright happiness of the playroom, usually filled with innocent laughter, was shattered by a sudden tantrum. Jenna, a brunette Little with pigtails, and Elijah, another Little, were locked in a ferocious battle over a red toy car.

It was as if a silent alarm went off within me, an instinct deeply embedded from my time as a Daddy. I felt my feet automatically moving towards the commotion. Joe, understandingly, followed behind me, a curious Mike resting in his arms, his bright eyes wide with fascination behind the blue binky.

The playroom had become an arena, the toy car the disputed prize. The Littles surrounding them didn't know how to respond, their joy dampened by the escalating situation.

"Hey," I called, crouching down to their eye level, "what seems to be the problem here?"

Both Jenna and Elijah looked at me, their expressions a mixture of surprise and apprehension. Their bickering subsided for a moment, their attention fully on me.

"It's my car!" Jenna protested, her hand gripping the car tightly.

"No, it's mine!" Elijah countered, his face reddening in stubbornness.

I scanned the room for any of their Daddies but found none. "Where are your Daddies?"

"In the lounge," Jenna said, her lower lip trembling slightly.

I nodded, understanding the situation. "Alright. Now, can you both tell me why you think the car belongs to you?"

They took turns explaining, their arguments alternating between claims of prior possession and simple desire. I listened patiently, nodding when appropriate, letting them know they were heard.

Finally, I made a proposition. "How about we share the car? We can take turns playing with it. What do you think?"

"But..." Elijah began, but I cut him off gently.

"In this club, we respect each other's feelings, don't we? And right now, both of you are upset. So, let's apologize and start sharing."

They hesitated for a moment before finally nodding, echoing quiet "sorry's" to each other. The playroom breathed a collective sigh of relief, the tension evaporating, replaced once more with the joyous laughter and chatter of Littles at play.

"Thank you," Jenna and Elijah said in unison before scampering off to continue their play.

A gentle pat on my back brought me back to reality. Joe, with Mike still in his arms, gave me an approving nod. "You still got it, Hank."

For a moment, I stood there, silent and introspective. I may have withdrawn from the world of Daddies and Littles, built walls around my heart, but in that moment, I realized something. Despite the hurt and the heartbreak, the instinct, the natural pull of a Daddy was still alive within me.

The laughter and merriment that continued to fill the room had a hypnotic rhythm. Littles and Daddies mingled, the bond between them tangible. Yet, in the midst of the bright colors and joyful faces, a girl suddenly caught my eye.

She was a beautiful Little, seated by herself, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her baby blue dress. She seemed out of place, like a single cloud in an otherwise clear sky. She radiated a certain vulnerability, the kind that urged every protective instinct within me to surface.

Joe followed my gaze, taking in the sight of the lone girl. We watched as Mike, ever the friendly Little, crawled over to her. His animated gestures elicited a faint smile from her, and something inside me stirred. An unexpected pull, akin to a magnet, was luring me towards her.

Shaking off the unfamiliar sensation, I nodded at Joe and we made our way towards the pair. Mike looked up as we approached, his toothy grin still in place. "Daddy, Uncle Hank, meet Lina! She’s new here," he chirped, gesturing towards the girl.

"Hello, Lina," I greeted, offering a warm smile. Joe did the same, but all we got in return was a nervous glance. It was as if our presence amplified her discomfort.

A wave of disappointment washed over me. Was I misreading her anxiety or was it disdain or arrogance?

I sighed internally, reminding myself not to jump to conclusions. "Nice to meet you, Lina," I continued, trying to dispel the awkward silence.

She barely nodded in acknowledgment, her fingers now playing with a loose strand of her hair. Her nervousness was palpable, almost contagious.

“Are you one of those Daddies who's, like, super strict or something? I'm just, uh, trying to get to know people.”

“No, no, I promise I'm not a tyrant. I mean, I can be strict when it's necessary, but I'm really just here to hang out with my friend Joe and his Little, Mike. You know, enjoy a relaxed evening and all that.”

“Oh, okay,” she laughed nervously. “Good to know you're not one of those crayon-stealing Daddies, then. I mean, I wouldn't want to find myself in a battle over who gets the blue crayon.”

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