The warm light of the table lamp softly illuminated the room. You were lying in bed, covered with a warm blanket.
"Well, that's it. The end of the story, baby," he said, closing the book. His gaze lingered on your face. "What's the moral of this story, huh?" his voice was soft, without a hint of reproach, but with genuine interest.
You thought for a moment, not knowing how to answer. The warmth that you had been deprived of for so long was strangely felt in every word of this man. You wanted to say something, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you just shrugged.
"Want me to tell you what I think?" he smiled, seeing your silence. "A tale about how even the most rebellious heroes, the ones who stray from their path, can find their place. They need someone to believe in them. Even a little villain like you," he patted your head lightly. "needs a little warmth to become something more."
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