Running his hands through your hair as you sit in his lap, braiding the strands in delicate movements while you're playing games on his phone.

In truth he never thought he'd be a good father, he wasn't prepared for the random knock on the door at midnight when a little child was presented to him with nobody else around. He would've left you too, if it weren't for the guilt.

"Sit still," he muttered, voice soft as he nudged you back into place, glancing down at the phone to unpause your game.