EXTRACT FOR
Crybaby
(A.B. Darling Little)

"Are you hungry, baby? Poor baby. Daddy's sorry. Come on. Daddy's going to get you something to fill your hungry tummy."



He must be insane if he thinks she's going to eat anything he makes for her. For all she knows, he's going to take the opportunity to drug her and do all sorts of weird, kinky stuff to her. The thought makes her throat close up.



"Do you wanna fill your hungry tum-tum?"



She scowls at him. Is he sick in the head? Is that why he's talking like that? Her stomach betrays her by grumbling loudly and he chuckles and it's really unfair how good his voice is and how good that makes her feel.



"Alright, alright." He bounces her on his arm the entire way out of what appears to be a bedroom and towards the kitchen. She can't really see much, cradled so close to his chest like this and it feels really frightening because she's afraid he would drop her. She's glad to have use of her arms and legs back, but now it's a little bit awkward because she doesn't know where to put her hands. She rests it on his chest, thinking she would put a little space between them but she's also worried that she would accidentally push too hard and he would drop her.



She should have spent the time getting to know her surrounding and memorizing escape routes. Instead, she spends the entire time being stunned by what she's wearing when she puts her hand on his chest. Her palm is wrapped up in a pair of mittens that reminds of when she has to bake something in the orphanage, but it's a very badly designed one because she can't use her thumbs in this. Baby mittens, she thinks with a little frown.



She's wearing socks too, which explains why she's feeling so warm. She wriggles her toes a little bit. It feels so soft and comfortable. He's holding her in the nook of his arms like she's an infant, which is as humiliating as it is insulting. She's petite, not a child! With that in mind, she tries to struggle out of his grasp, but when she lurches forward, her head begins to spin a little. For a second, she panics, thinking she's going to fall straight out of his lap and headfirst towards the floor. This how she's going to die.



He pulls her up easily. "Oppsie-daisy," he says. "Alright there, baby?"



Her heart is beating out of control and she doesn't know why, but she begins to cry straight away, eyes welling up with tears and throat closing. She lets out a soft hiccup that turns quickly into a fresh wave of tears at how hopeless and helpless she feels already. And she's only been in this situation for less than an hour! She can't even struggle properly, giving in to him when he hoists her up all the way until her chin is resting on his shoulder. He rubs gentle, soothing circles on her back.



"It's alright, baby. Daddy's got you. Shh... Shh..." He bounces her a little as he keeps walking forward. "Don't cry, baby. Daddy's got you. It's alright. Daddy's not going to let you fall. Poor baby," he peppers her face with kisses. "Poor baby."



She's not crying. She's just a little surprised. She sniffles and hides her face in the nook of his neck.



"It's alright, baby," he says and she kind of hates how safe she feels with his arms around her like that, holding her so securely. "It's alright," he hums.