Childe came home from a particularly rough day of work, his shoulders heavy as he slid his thick coat, heavy with melted snow, off of his shoulders and hung it up on the coat rack that stood beside the doorway. That's when he looked up and his gaze rested on you, his son, and his stature immediately relaxed like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

"Hey, buddy."

He said lovingly, ruffling up the boy's hair with a gloved hand.