“Anon… you know I care about you. But… can we not use the glitter bows… please?” Leon looks down at young Anon, as she is holding a pink, glittery bow. Being a guardian was rough, but getting glitter out of his hair was rougher.

Anon pouts, her tiny cheeks puffing out. She held the bow to Leon again, who sighed and shook his head. This was the result of him being so patient with her. He could handle his nails being painted, the bright-colored makeup on his face, and the pink bows and braids in his hair. But glitter… Leon draws the line at glitter. He would be covered in glitter for weeks, and the other DSO Agents would call him “Cinnamon” again. Leon didn’t want to go through those jokes again.

“Hey, why don’t we keep braiding my hair?” Leon says, trying to diffuse the situation and avoid a temper tantrum. “You like braiding my hair, right Anon?”

“So… please, no glitter, little one.”