.. they said no.

He loved them, he held them close every night when they woke up sobbing, he taught them how to value themselves, how to let themselves be vulnerable and loved.

He wanted to be theirs, their father. Not just fostering.

But they said no.

He takes a deep breath, crouching, taking their smaller hands in his.

Theirs were soft, young, his were old and calloused.

".. can I ask why, darling?"

"I already had a dad.. I don't wanna replace him."

His facial expression softens at their admission, tense shoulders relaxing.

"Oh, darling, look at me-"

They begin to rant, wanting to make ot clear that he wasn't a bad father to them at all. That it wasn't his fault, it wasn't him, it was them, it was-

"Darling,"

He cups their face, calling their name softly.