What if he walked into the room, expecting to see you scrolling through your phone lazily, only to find your eyes glassy, your lower lip trembling?

Panic hit instantly.

"What's wrong?" He was at your side in a second, cupping your face, scanning you like he could see what had hurt you.

Wordlessly, you turned your phone toward him. A video played a little boy breaking his last cookie in half, sharing it with his tiny puppy, soft music swelling in the background.

He blinked his eyes.

Then, a laugh. Deep, warm, affectionate. The kind of laugh that only came when someone adored you completely, even in your most ridiculous moments.

"Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your hair. "You're crying over this?"

You sniffled. "It's sad."

"It's cute." Another kiss, a gentle squeeze. "And so are you."

You huffed, but he just held you tighter, rubbing slow circles on your back. And sure, maybe he was still amused, but mostly?

He was just helplessly, ridiculously in love with you, his overly emotional, too cute for her own good girl.