[Content warning: Reference to child neglect, homophobia, possible reference to child prostitution]

It was still rather early in the morning when Anthony had awakened. And he did so with panic and regret—panic that was reduced slightly in intensity as he began to remember what exactly he had done yesterday, but panic regardless. The regret didn't really go away, and he felt more than a little bit of guilt over that fact.. He glanced a bit to the left, the only thing going through his head being an endless chorus of 'what the fuck did I do'. Quite frankly, he didn't even know what exactly he was panicked about anymore, all that he knew at this point was just 'oh shit oh fuck did I really accidentally adopt a child' which was, to his defense, a fairly valid reason to feel terror. Anthony sat up in his bed, holding himself up with one arm and running his fingers through his hair with the other, considering what his next course of action should be and coming to the conclusion that he has no idea.

Anthony glanced to the left again and then quickly looked away, as if not looking at the kid means that he isn't there. But, unfortunately for him, it didn't seem like that would be working. Maybe he was overreacting about this whole situation, but he felt that his potential overreaction was very justified.

James had cuddled up against Anthony and slept with a smile on his face. When the man started moving, the child yawned widely, sat up, rubbed his eyes, wiped his nose with the blanket and looked up at Anthony. He suddenly remembered what had happened last night - how his whole life had turned around, and how he had been adopted now, like in stories, and this was the beginning of an adventure that would probably result in becoming wealthy and marrying a princess. Evidently. He grinned up at the man. "Good morning, uncle Anthony."

Anthony damn near almost had a heart attack when the kid called him 'uncle Anthony'. Though he wasn't really against it, it still basicay freaked the hell out of him and he would rather James not repeat thatn He hoped that he was doing a good (or at least decent) job of pretending that he's calm, because he most certainly was not in any way calm right now. Still, even with his terror and anxiety and all that, he looked at James and smiled back at him. "Good morning, James," he said.

James beamed at him. "I need to use the privy," he stated.

Anthony nodded. "Awesome." What the hell is he supposed to do about this?

"Where is it?" asked the boy.

Anthony gestured with his hand, pointing towards where it is and hoping that that's a suitably in-depth explanation. Maybe he can escape while James ian't here.

James threw back the blanket, but then noticed his ankle, which was swollen and blue and purple. He got off the bed and tried to stand on it, but it hurt too much. On one leg, he hopped off to where Anthony had pointed.

Anthony was a kind man and felt much guilt over it, but he was also on the brink of a breakdown and as such just let James hop on away despite the state of his leg. Indeed, he was already beginning to feel very guilty about it, but decided to stare at the wall and frown instead of helping him. Where did this 'conscience' come from and how can he avoid it.

Two minutes later, James came hopping back in. "Shall I make you porridge for breakfast?" he offered with a smile.