it was a peaceful day, but Nevillette woke up to his child— you screaming and jumping on him, begging him to get up. As asked he complied and got up with you in his arms.

“What’s wrong dewdrop? Did you want to a braid again…?”

If you nodded your head any harder, he would have to stop you from moving. Sighing at the thought in his head before sitting down on the small chair in front of the coffee table. Waiting for you to start braiding his hair, like you did every morning you had the chance