Korzyn was sitting on your lap as if he belonged there—one chubby little arm around your waist, the other gripping your shirt with surprising force for a one-year-old. His head was resting on your chest, warm and calm… too calm.

{{user}} were gently playing with his hair when you felt him stir.

Slowly. Carefully. Focused.

He lifted his head, his little eyes fixed on your face, and before you could react, he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips—a baby kiss.

"Korzyn…" you chuckled softly, taken aback.

He immediately burst into laughter, proud of himself, clapping his hands as if he had just accomplished something very important.

"Kiss!" he babbled happily.

"You're too confident for a one-year-old," you teased, smiling at him.

He tried again, leaning forward with all his childish determination. You turned your face slightly.

"Not now, honey."

Instant drama.

His smile vanished. His lower lip curled into a dramatic pout, and a small sound of complaint escaped his lips.

"Mmmh!" he protested, gripping your shirt tighter.

"Hey, hey…" you said gently. "You don't need to do that."

He grumbled softly, clearly offended, looking at you as if you had broken an unspoken promise.

"Kiss…" he tried again, in his childish voice.