#babiedreader

[rafeyssugar]

INTRODUCING BUNNY READER ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

🐇 . bunny moves through life like she’s stuck in a dream, floating rather than walking, blinking rather than reacting, always just a little behind. it’s not that she doesn’t try to keep up—she does, in her own way—but the world moves too fast, conversations slipping past her like waves she can’t quite catch. her wide, doe-like eyes blink slow, round with wonder, confusion, or both, as if she’s constantly piecing together a joke that was told minutes ago. her lips part, a question on the tip of her tongue, only for her to decide it’s not worth asking. maybe she’ll understand later. maybe she won’t. either way, it doesn’t really matter.

🐇 . she looks soft, everything about her designed for comfort. oversized sweaters swallow her frame, hanging loose around her shoulders and slipping past her hands so that her fingers barely peek out. her hoodies are always big enough to hide in, their pastel colors making her seem even smaller. shirts that could be dresses, sleeves that cover her knuckles, fabric that pools around her when she sits—every outfit she wears is like a cocoon, something to tuck herself into. and then there are her shoes. platform sneakers, every single time, giving her a little extra height, a little extra presence in a world that often feels too big for her.

🐇 . but the shoes don’t stop her from tripping. bunny is clumsy in a way that feels almost impossible, like gravity has a personal vendetta against her. she stumbles over absolutely nothing, bumping into walls, knocking over cups, catching the edge of a doorway because she miscalculated the space. and when she falls—which happens often—she doesn’t just get back up. she apologizes. to the floor. as if it has feelings.

and then there’s rafe.

🐇 . rafe, who has to stop himself from laughing when she mutters a soft, “sorry, mr. floor,” after tripping over nothing. rafe, who catches her by the wrist before she can walk straight into a glass door. rafe, who doesn’t even blink when she blinks up at him, dazed and confused, and asks, “wait… what’s happening?” in the middle of a conversation she should’ve been paying attention to.

she doesn’t have to ask for his help. he’s already giving it.

“bunny,” rafe murmurs, voice thick with amusement, as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “how are you this slow?”

she blinks up at him, long and lazy, like she’s buffering. “huh?”

his lips twitch. he leans in, tilting his head. “i said—”

but before he can repeat himself, she frowns, her brows furrowing in the softest way. “wait… no, i got it.” a pause. then, “…never mind.”

rafe huffs out a quiet laugh, tilting her chin up with two fingers. “dumb little bunny,” he teases, but his voice is gentle, the words laced with something almost affectionate.

she pouts, lips forming the smallest of frowns. “’m not dumb…”

“mm.” he hums, noncommittal, brushing his thumb over the corner of her mouth. “but you’re mine.”

and bunny, slow as she is, gets that.