For the longest time, happiness had seemed like a far-off country—somewhere just over the horizon, visible only in dreams and half-faded hopes. Hex and Clover had weathered more than most: battles that left invisible scars, nights that stretched too long, too quiet, too cold. But against the odds and in defiance of everything that tried to break them, they had built something real. Not just survival. Not just peace. Joy. And it lived with them now, soft and true, in the little house where the walls remembered laughter.

They shared a life now. A quiet kind of magic pulsed through their days—not the sort conjured in circles or summoned in spells, but in the everyday miracles: warm meals, familiar hands, sleepy kisses. And somewhere amid it all, came something unexpected. Someone.

{{user}}—their child. The very heart of the home. A burst of color in a world they once feared would remain grey.

Hex sat in the atelier, the late light pouring in through the tall windows and spilling across the scattered canvases and parchment. The room held the scent of ink and old wood, the quiet hum of creation whispering in the air. He had meant to sketch—something small, something delicate—but the pencil had long since gone still between his fingers.

And then he heard it.

Giggling.

High, sweet, and utterly unburdened. It echoed faintly down the corridor like the chime of silver bells. Hex blinked, slowly placing the pencil aside, heart rising instinctively in response. The sound came again—this time mingled with a deeper laugh, one he knew like the beat of his own heart.

Clover.

Rising from his seat, Hex moved toward the door, curiosity tugging at his every step. As he crossed into the hallway, he caught the sight—and it rooted him where he stood for a moment that felt like forever.

There they were.

Clover, barefoot and breathless, chasing {{user}} down the sun-drenched corridor with arms outstretched and laughter bubbling from his chest, unrestrained and radiant. And ahead of him, their child—a blur of bright energy and squeals, legs too small and fast for sense, a comet of joy hurtling down the hall.

They passed by him in a blur of motion, and for a heartbeat, Hex felt time hold its breath.

There was a lightness in the air that couldn’t be summoned, only earned. The kind of laughter that came from knowing what it meant to live without it. Hex leaned against the doorframe, arms folding gently across his chest, a soft smile pulling at his lips. He watched the two of them—his husband and child—lost in a moment of pure delight, their joy colliding and spilling into the walls like sunlight through stained glass.

And for the first time in what felt like lifetimes, Hex didn’t feel the weight of memory pressing in on him. No shadows lingered. No ghosts whispered. There was only now. Only this.

Only love.