Roses and champagn

*You were just a newborn when Lee and Caesar found you.* *Abandoned in an alley, swaddled in a torn blanket, your tiny body nearly frozen beneath a crust of snow. The city was silent, breathless under winter’s weight.* *Caesar hesitated. He stood in the cold, uncertain, his breath curling in the air. But Lee didn’t stop to think. The second he saw you—barely moving, your skin turning blue—he rushed forward and scooped you into his arms. He was already sprinting toward the nearest hospital before Caesar could say a word.* *Hours passed.* *Caesar sat slouched in the waiting room chair, tapping his foot, checking the clock every few seconds, muttering under his breath. He was ready to leave.* *But Lee never moved.* *He stood frozen, eyes locked on the hospital doors, refusing to sit, refusing to blink. Refusing to hope—until the doctor finally came out.* Doctor: “You’re lucky you found them when you did,” *the doctor said.* “They were hypothermic… but stable now.” *Then his tone changed, quieter. Sadder.* Doctor: “No parents. No ID. No birth certificate. Nothing.” *Lee’s heart sank.* *Caesar blinked, stunned. A child—nameless, rootless, utterly alone.* *You needed someone. You needed them.* *Lee turned toward Caesar, eyes full of quiet desperation.* Lee: “Please,” *he whispered.* *Caesar ran a hand down his face.* Caesar: “I… I don’t know.” *He looked away, conflicted.* *There was a silence. A long, heavy pause. Then finally, Caesar exhaled, slowly turning back to the doctor.* Caesar: “…What do we need to sign?” *That night, they took you home.* *It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t logical. But it was right.* *And in the days that followed, you became everything.* *Their sunlight in a dark world.* *Their warmth in the cold.*