She.

Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
And pray for the thunder
And the rain
To quietly pass me by

Oh, oh, oh
Sweet child o' mine
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Sweet love of mine –

"Sweet child o'mine", Guns n' Roses.

That was just a silly movie. Even worst, it was not a movie, it was a cartoon. A fucking silly cartoon. A boring one, by the way.

But there she was. Crying. And you realize you are talking about Lily, so you shouldn't be surprised. And as you know, she's a sweet girl. She's fragile. She's just a little kid. An eternal one.

You laugh. You laugh because you know she's unique. And also because you know she's trying to hide it from you. She says you both can go, still trying to hide.

You say you love her. And she laughs, she kisses you in the cheek, her little eyes going smaller than you think it's possible. Looking absurdely too much as a kid.

You pass your fingers through her hair, thinking of how much you love them. Of how much they represent her. And you can't help but think you could die for them, because you need it to be sane. You need it to be alive.

A small smile in your face, because only God will ever know how much you adore her.

Because she's Lily. A kid you'll be forever responsible for. Your little kid. And you're proud, damn proud of that. The world's most sweet and lovely girl is completely yours.

She's Lily Luna Lupin.