Page 10 of Saving Little Lina: Part One

His cold, aloof demeanor was a stark contrast to the warmth that filled the club. I bit my lip, stung by the truth in his words. It stirred a strange concoction of emotions within me. As much as I wanted to dislike him for his harshness, a small part of me wondered if there was more beneath his brusque exterior.

His words, though harsh, were filled with an underlying concern that was hard to ignore. But as he continued to glare at me, I felt a burst of defiance bubble within me.

I scowled back at him, "Maybe you should have left after your meeting with Nick to water your plants instead of trying to play hero."

His eyes widened slightly, taken aback by my sudden retort. I pushed on, fueled by the hurt his words had inflicted. "And for the record, you're not particularly good at saving Littles in distress."

The tension between us crackled, an intense energy that I had never felt before. His mouth opened and closed, as if he were about to say something, but he remained silent, and I turned away, hiding the fresh wave of tears threatening to fall.

My heart throbbed with a confusing mix of emotions. Hank's actions and words left me with more questions than answers. Yet, despite the hurt his words had inflicted, I found myself pondering the meaning behind his actions, his stern gaze, and the strange concern that laced his harsh words.

I watched Hank's retreating figure, feeling a whirlwind of emotions. The bitterness of his words lingered like a bitter aftertaste. As he disappeared from my sight, I was left alone with my thoughts, a lump forming in my throat that had nothing to do with the choking incident.

Lost in my world, I barely noticed the bubbly energy that was Mike approaching. His eyes widened at the sight of my red-rimmed eyes, and I hastily wiped away a stray tear.

"Lina, what happened?" His voice was laced with concern, and I found myself pouring out the whole ordeal. From the choking incident to Hank's harsh words, I relayed the entire episode.

As I finished, Mike looked thoughtful for a moment before breaking into a grin, "Well, I guess you'll have to stick close to me from now on. At least I can guarantee I won't scold you after saving you from a near-death experience."

Despite myself, I couldn't help but chuckle. That was Mike - turning any somber situation into a lighthearted one with his quick wit.

The harrowing experience had me worried about the safety measures in the club. I voiced my concerns, the image of choking alone with no one around terrifying me. But Mike shook his head, dismissing my worries with an air of confidence.

"Uncle Nick is really strict when it comes to safety," he assured, "He wouldn't let this place run if it weren't safe for all of us."

His words provided some comfort, but it wasn't enough to wash away my apprehension. Noticing my uncertainty, Mike got an idea.

"Let me show you something," he said, crawling towards the food counter and returned with a plate of various snacks.

Mike began to cut the food into small, manageable pieces, his focus on the task at hand as his brow furrowed in concentration. As he worked, he relayed the importance of taking smaller bites and eating slowly, emphasizing on the need to prevent another choking incident.

However, the allure of the tasty treats was too strong for Mike to resist. His advice fell by the wayside as he began gobbling up large pieces of food, much to my amusement.

Catching my look, Mike's eyes widened in realization, "Oh! I was just demonstrating the wrong way of eating," he stammered, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

His clumsy attempt to cover up his forgetfulness brought a genuine smile to my face, the first since the incident. As we both laughed, the tension in my body lessened. Despite the roller coaster of emotions, Mike's antics brought a sense of normalcy back.

Just as Mike was polishing off the last of his snacks, he turned to me with a smirk. "Guess what? The talent show is postponed by half an hour. We got some extra time," he announced, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I raised an eyebrow at him, "And what do we do with this 'extra time'?"

A devilish grin spread across Mike's face as he extended a hand towards me, "How about a grand tour of our club?"

With an eager nod, I accepted his offer. Mike, being the club's resident enthusiast, made the perfect tour guide.

We began our journey at the lounges. The Little lounge was a colorful, vibrant space filled with plush toys and comfortable beanbags. Mike enthusiastically narrated a tale about a pillow fight he'd once instigated there, his eyes sparkling as he recounted the chaos. Despite its cheerful appearance, there was a sense of tranquility to the place.

Next, we made our way to the Daddy lounge. A stark contrast to the Little one, this room was designed with sophisticated aesthetics - dark leather couches and a polished mahogany coffee table. Mike shared his observations about the seriousness of the discussions that happened here, his eyes alight with mischief.

The playrooms were full of a variety of toys, books, and games - a haven for any Little. The game zones, on the other hand, were filled with board games and video game consoles, where Daddies and Littles could compete against each other.

Mike, with a glint of pride in his eyes, pointed out a corner in the playroom. "And that's where Daddy and I build our block castles. You should join us next time!" He was practically bouncing with excitement. His invitation sent a warm, fuzzy sensation fluttering in my chest. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would feel like, joining in their game, being a part of that magic.

Then came the quiet corners, cozy spaces intended for story-time. Mike recalled with a fond smile how Joe would read him bedtime stories in these corners, his voice often lulling him to sleep. I could almost picture the scene - Mike curled up with his head on Uncle Joe's lap, his eyes slowly drifting shut as the soothing cadence of his Daddy's voice filled the air.

Our tour ended at the kitchenette - a small, well-equipped area designed for Littles to prepare snacks with the help of their Daddies. Mike pointed to a particular counter, sharing a story about the time he tried to make cookies with his Daddy, only to end up covering both of them in flour.

With each story, each room we visited, the club started to feel more like home. It was more than just a gathering place for Littles and Daddies. It was a well-structured haven that catered to their unique needs, a place where they could feel safe and loved.

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