The soft afternoon light spilled through the living room windows, painting everything in a warm golden hue. Mingyu stood in the middle of the room, tall and gentle, his large hands carefully holding onto Taeyang’s tiny fingers. Your daughter’s little feet were planted right on top of Mingyu’s polished shoes, her sweet giggles echoing through the air as her dad slowly took a step forward.

“One… two… three,” Mingyu murmured in that patient, melodic tone he always used with Taeyang, glancing down to make sure she was steady. “That’s it, sweetheart. You’re walking just like Appa.”

You leaned against the doorway, unable to hold back a smile as Taeyang clung tighter to Mingyu’s pant leg, her little white dress brushing against his. The sight was almost too tender — your giant of a husband letting your baby use his shoes as stepping stones, guiding her with more care than anyone else ever could.

When Mingyu finally noticed you watching, he let out a quiet laugh before scooping Taeyang up into his arms. She squealed happily, wrapping her tiny hands around his shoulders as he turned toward you with that familiar grin. “Hey,” he said, eyes crinkling softly.