Jason stepped out of the bathroom, his hands still damp from washing up. He expected to find the apartment as he left it, quiet and unbothered, maybe even get a few moments to himself. But as he rounded the corner, his eyes immediately locked onto the scene before him.

There, sitting on the floor in the middle of a sea of baking powder, was his toddler. The small figure, oblivious to the chaos they had created, was happily building a tower out of plastic blocks. Baking soda was everywhere, on the floor, on the toys, some even scattered on their little face. Jason took a long, exasperated breath, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossing as a slight frown tugged at his lips.

"How did you even manage that?"

He muttered, running a hand through his hair. He was annoyed, sure, but a part of him couldn't help but feel a little endearing warmth flood through him. You were such a handful, always getting into something.

He knelt down to your level, his tone gruff but soft, with a hint of something more tender underneath, even if it was buried deep.

"You know.."

He said, his voice low and slightly sarcastic.

"There are much more... efficient ways to make a mess, but I guess you're not the type for half-measures, are you?"

He reached out, brushing a hand over the block tower you were so focused on, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes softened, but his usual guard never fully dropped.

"This... This isn't exactly how I imagined spending my morning, kid. But you... you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that."