.:Various x Reader-One Shots:.

.:LatviaxReader-My Light:.

I had nothing to live for.

I sat there, sick, starving, and drenched to the core, praying that Death would have mercy and take me right then and there. But... Instead, something else came for me.

I could hear splashing sounds growing louder, like approaching footsteps. I closed my eyes, scowling. It's probably another damned richie, running towards the nice cozy warmth of their home. Damn them...

But, no. The footsteps stop right in front of me. I chose to ignore whoever it was. I don't need their pity. Then, I heard a soft voice, like that of a chorus of angels spoke softly, "Are you alright?"

I opened my eyes, only to see a pair of (e/c) eyes staring right back, full of concern. I blinked. A young girl, about my age, was crouched in front of me, not even fazed by the cold rain drenching her (h/l) (h/c) locks, waiting for an answer with sincere worry. I opened my mouth to reply, when another coughing fit seized me. This one was rough. My vision even blacked out for a moment or two. The girl reached over and rubbed my back gently until I stopped. Her voice, as sweet as honey, filled my ears once more. "Come with me. I'm going to help you."

She stood up before guiding me to my feet carefully. She lifted one of my arms and pulled it around her shoulders, allowing me to lean on her as she slowly led me to a simple house across the street. She patiently helped me climb the creaky porch steps and through the old wooden door. Immediately, I was greeted with a wave of warmth as I entered the home. A small but wonderful fire was crackling in the hearth, not only heating the cozy main room, but also illuminating it with a soft glow. I noticed a kettle hung above the flame.

The strange, angelic girl sat me down on an old sofa that was pushed against the one wall. She turned and left the room for a moment, only to return with a large, warm blanket, which she gently draped over my shoulders in a way that was strangely reminiscent of my mother. She then said to me with a soft smile on her lips, "I'll be right back, okay?" I nodded meekly. She turned and hurried off into the only other room that the small house had. I could hear voices muffled through the wall behind me. I pulled the (f/c) blanket tighter around me as I struggled to hear what was being said. All I managed to do though, was distinguish two separate voices--the girl and a second, much fainter voice. After a short period of time, no more than five or ten minutes, she returned with a pile of neatly folded clothes in her (s/c) arms. She set them beside me on the couch.

Somewhat sheepishly, she murmured, "Um... Th-those were my father's old clothes. They're dry a-and I think they should fit you..." A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she looked everywhere but me. It was kind of adorable. She edged back towards the door. "Kn-Knock when you're d-decent, p-please..." She stammered softly before disappearing just like that.

I turned and looked at the clothes. There was a wine red button down shirt, black pants, and a pair of boxers. I smiled a bit to myself without knowing. Quickly, I shed my wet clothes and pulled on the warm, dry ones that I had been provided. They actually fit pretty good, despite the fact that the shirt's sleeves were a bit too long and the pants bunched a bit near my feet. I folded my soggy clothes and set them on the floor a short distance from the fireplace. I then step over to the door and knock lightly. The handle turns and the door creaks open a small crack. The girl pokes her head tentatively through the opening. "D-Do they fit?" I nodded. She smiled a bit with what I assume was relief. "Good" She said as she emerged fully.

I followed her with my eyes as she walked past me. She picked up my clothes and put them in a wicker laundry basket in the corner. I noticed that she carried them carefully as though she could break them somehow. Just then, the kettle started to whistle out steam. "Oh!" She jumped a bit at the sound, having forgotten about it as she was preoccupied with other things. She rushed over to the fire, and removed it with a small hook. Fascinated, I watched her carry it over to a small wooden table. She scurried around the 'kitchen', collecting this and that before bringing it back to the table. Next thing I knew, the girl was holding two steaming mugs, with one held out towards me. I took it with a soft "Thank you," before I sit back down on the couch.