Poor

A little drabble about an Illya in another time and place – before joining UNCLE.  He finds someone who needs help more than he does.

**

Looking at the bedraggled little creature, Illya was reminded of something he’d learned years ago.  No matter how bad he thought his own life was, someone always had it worse.  He crouched down and held out his glasses to the kitten.  “Hello, little one,” he said, his voice soft.  “Can we be friends?”

When the kitten sniffed his glasses and then rubbed against them, he smiled.  Lifting it, he drew it close.  Then, as it snuggled against him, he headed up the steps towards his tiny flat.  “I don’t have much,” he admitted, “but you have even less, it seems.”

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