The first look that they often got was one of pity, enough so that they both well knew how others view their little girl and often, it wasn't the kind of pity that was gentle and loving and supportive, the kind of pity that inspired others to reach out with sincerity and offer well meaning advice or whatever was needed. It was often just a look or two, if they noticed.

"Cece? It's time to go home." Marinette called out, watching their daughter spring away from the playground to listen to her mother waving a goodbye to her friends, trying to hide her pout from her lips. Rarely, it felt like the park was full of kids willing to play with her. It wasn't that she wasn't their age or nice or too quiet, though sometimes she almost wished that she had an excuse beyond the questions of why that felt far too common to ask her parents.

"It's time to go home." She murmured as she grabbed her dad's hand, intertwining their fingers like Momma always did with his hand. Cecilia just wanted to be normal more days than not lately, because normal was not what she was. Sweet, yes, a good listener, most of the time, and usually she was decently good at talking. Sometimes though she didn't talk like a kid normally did or she missed a few words spoken and didn't realize that she'd paused or missed something until someone asked about it, but often, she wasn't asked about it anyway. She had the answer memorized just in case.

"Yeah." Luka muttered, "Did you have fun?" It was something, and Cecilia loved a good conversation.

"Yeah, I met a girl. Her name's Patty, and she's..." Cecilia cut off, came to a half stumbling stop, and her mother's worried frown was one of the first things she saw as she continued on as if she hadn't ever stopped, "Really pretty. She has hair that's sorta blonde and yet kind of brown too."

"Is it dirty blonde?" Asked Luka before he realized that maybe that wasn't a hair color that his little girl understood yet.

"N-No, it's clean!" Cece responded with a vibrant hop in her step, "She's really nice, and she didn't stare at me funny at all, like some of the other kids do." It meant something when Cecilia looked up and saw whether someone was looking at her funny as she was still trying to grasp why they did that.

"It's a color of hair, sweetie." Marinette soothed, "Like brown and blonde mixed." They couldn't take an eraser to the strange looks that their daughter received or a paintbrush to create new expressions on their faces, but they did end up sitting through explaining why Cece sometimes stopped speaking, only to start up again some seconds later or why she sometimes wouldn't answer the questions that people asked her. Cece wasn't stubborn like they'd first feared, as they'd been pretty stubborn at times as kids. It was easy to make that mistake though Cece was a good girl and did her best to listen when she could.

"Oh." Cecilia mumbled, "She's a dirty blonde then. Is Uncle Roe coming over today and Aunt Juleka?"

"We'll see." Her parents answered together, and Cecilia smiled. It was okay for just a moment more, and every kid that treated her daughter equally felt like another blessing in their world. When people gave them sad looks after finding out that Cecilia wasn't a normal, healthy girl, they never did realize how bright and cheery she was or how loving she tended to be. Cece loved to learn even though some days were harder than others, but even routine blood work and the pills that she had to take that didn't always stop her seizures, didn't cause her to be less precious or absolutely beautiful in her parents' eyes.

The love in her heart and her often infectious personality was enough, even if sometimes they worried more than other parents might, and even though every seizure was a new pain in their chests to witness. Cece was their baby girl and truly, she's the light of their world whether she realizes it yet or not.