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Summary
You filled the pond and the plot next to the orphanage garden full of lotuses from the lake.
Bailey hadn't noticed them until they bloomed, coffee cup frozen halfway to his mouth when he looked out the window and saw them, floating above the surface like pale white skulls in the murky water. He had frowned at the sight of them, setting his coffee mug down to glare through the window as though the flowers had mocked him.
You had managed to grow something beautiful and alive from nothing but mud and rot, the same way you had managed to grow into something remarkable from nothing but the orphanage.
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Bailey has a wet dream of you.
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M!Bailey / Late Game F!PC