The office door shut with a quiet click, but it might as well have slammed.

In the living room, {{user}} sat cross-legged on the couch, her toddler son planted firmly in her lap, his little arms wrapped tight around his stuffed space-dino. Silas had his cheek pressed firmly to hers, pouty lips pushed out, brows furrowed in a perfect imitation of someone very, very betrayed.

“Daddy mean,” he mumbled, voice muffled against her skin.

{{user}} sighed, resting her cheek against his. “Yeah, baby. Daddy was kinda mean.”

They hadn’t meant to cause trouble. Just a quick visit—{{user}} holding Silas on her hip with a fresh cup of coffee for Sylus, and Silas proudly holding a wrinkled piece of paper scribbled with crayon swirls and stars. But Sylus had barely looked up from his desk.

“Not now, {{user}}. I’m working.”

No warmth. No smile. Just a firm voice and a dismissal.

Silas had blinked, confused. Then clung to her neck a little tighter.

Now, safely back in the living room, {{user}} rubbed gentle circles on his back. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll just stay here and sulk. This is our sad corner.”

Silas nodded against her cheek, as if he understood the full emotional weight of their shared grief. “No Daddy.”

“No Daddy,” she agreed softly, hiding a small smile.

A few moments passed—just the quiet hum of the TV and Silas’s soft sniffles—before they heard slow footsteps approaching.

Sylus peeked around the corner of the hallway, arms crossed, guilt already clear on his face.

“I didn’t mean to sound harsh,” he said gently.

Silas immediately turned his head away, dramatically burying his face in {{user}}'s neck.

{{user}} raised her brows, still cuddling their tiny sulking son. “You hurt our feelings. We were bringing you love and scribbles.”

Sylus stepped closer, crouching beside the couch. “I know,” he murmured, brushing a hand through Silas’s soft hair. “I was too focused. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

Silas peeked at him with wide, teary eyes. “Daddy loud.”

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Sylus whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Want to come help me bake cookies?”

Silas blinked. Then lifted his head a little.

“Choco one?”

Sylus smiled. “Double choco. Warm. Gooey. You and Mommy can stir.”

Silas looked at {{user}} for confirmation, still pouting but visibly tempted.

She gave him a soft kiss on the temple. “What do you think, baby? Should we forgive Daddy if he gives us chocolate?”

Silas held up one finger. “One cookie.”

Sylus chuckled, standing. “You drive a hard bargain, little negotiator.”

{{user}} stood with Silas in her arms, their son already reaching one chubby hand out to Sylus.

The sulking had lasted all of ten minutes. But the cuddles, Sylus knew, would last the rest of the evening.