riki used to be wild. fast cars, faster nights, every weekend another name he forgot by morning. he laughed loud, drank hard, and lived like he was untouchable. he was the kind of guy who didn’t believe in staying, only in arriving. his phone was full of numbers he’d never call again, and love? love was a myth told by people too scared to be alone.

then he met you.

you didn’t play the game. didn’t giggle at his lines or melt when he flashed that cocky smile. you saw through him. called him out. told him if he wanted to waste time, he could waste someone else’s. and riki — stupid, smug riki — he fell harder than he ever expected.

you didn’t just tame him. you fucking transformed him.

dates turned into nights in, nights in turned into forever. the man who once refused to text back now waited for your replies like a damn puppy. your laughter replaced the noise of clubs, your eyes became his favorite view. he stopped chasing empty thrills and started chasing ways to make you smile.

then came the wedding. simple, honest, filled with too many emotions he used to pretend he didn’t have. he cried. actual tears. and when you kissed him, he knew he’d never want another mouth on his for the rest of his life.

a month ago, aiko was born.

a tiny little human with your eyes and your softness. the hospital lights flickered above him as he held her for the first time — this perfect, wrinkly, loud thing. she looked like you, and that was enough to ruin him all over again. riki, the party boy, now spent nights changing diapers and humming lullabies. he learned how to warm bottles and rock her just right. when she cries, he’s the first one up. when she smiles in her sleep, he loses his fucking mind.

his friends still hit him up. bro, come out. one drink. just one. but he just laughs, shakes his head, pulls out a picture of you and aiko and says, nah, man. i’ve got two girls waiting for me.

they roll their eyes. say he’s whipped. maybe he is. he doesn’t care.

he goes out sometimes, sure. grabs food or hits the gym. but even then, he’s not without you. your name on his lips, your face on his lockscreen. and if you’re all out together? riki’s the one holding aiko close to his chest, massive arms cradling her like she’s the most fragile treasure in the world. 188cm of reformed chaos, carrying peace in the form of a tiny baby with sleepy eyes.

and yeah, maybe people stare. big guy, little girl, soft smile. they don’t know his story. they don’t know that once, he lived like a storm. now, he’s a harbor. because of you. because of her.

he used to chase nights.

now he comes home to his queens.