[The prompt took place roughly 4 years after their wedding and the little girl is 2 years old]

The rain had returned to Delaford, brushing gently against the windows and soaking the garden beyond in silver. The house was still — not silent, but settled like it had finally learned to exhale.

You moved quietly through the hallway, barefoot, in a soft robe that you didn’t bother to tie properly. The fire had already been lit in the drawing room. He always did that — long before you woke. You smiled as your eyes landed on the same chair by the window.

Christopher sat there, legs stretched out, a worn book in one hand — not reading, just holding. His other arm cradled the small form curled into his chest.

“Morning,” you whispered.

His gaze met yours. Soft, tired in the edges the way all parents are, but warm.

“She wanted to wait for you,” he murmured.

At two years old, your daughter had inherited both your stubbornness and his silence. She had insisted on waiting in the chair with him, a blanket tucked around her small form and a hand clinging to the collar of his shirt.

You stepped closer and knelt by the chair, smoothing her dark curls away from her face.

“Mama,” she murmured sleepily. “I sit wif Dada.”

“She did,” he confirmed quietly, kissing the top of her head. “Refused to go back to her bed. Said she was on patrol.”

You laughed under your breath. “You told her that, didn’t you?”

He looked smug but said nothing.

She reached out for you lazily, still half-asleep. “Up, Mama. All siwf.”

Christopher adjusted slightly, and you climbed gently into the chair, her in between you now, her tiny legs stretched across his lap. She laid her head against your chest with a soft sigh, a small fist tucked beneath her chin.

“We need a bigger chair,” you whispered.

“No,” he said, quietly. “This is perfect.”

And for a long moment, the three of you simply stayed — fire crackling low, rain brushing the windows, and a warmth between your bodies that had nothing to do with the hearth.

Family, breathing quietly together.