"You really like this one, don't you?" Gibsie mused, watching as I lowered my head for Sean to inspect my bandage. "You're going soft, Kav."

"Look at him," I defended, nodding toward my partner’s younger sibling. I'd spent countless hours with this kid since they all moved in, and Sean always seemed the happiest to see me. It wasn’t just cute—it was gut-punchingly, heartbreakingly endearing.

I knew it wasn’t fair to favor children, and I’d never admit it aloud, but if I had my pick from the whole lot, it would always be Sean. And maybe Ollie too, I conceded, because let’s be honest—I liked them all—but this one? There was something about Sean that made the world pause.

"Look at those big eyes," I urged, pointing at Sean’s chocolate-button gaze that seemed to sparkle with mischief and trust all at once.

"He's like a puppy. How could anyone not love that face?"

"He's a person, not a puppy," Gibsie laughed, shaking their head.

"He's my puppy, aren’t you, buddy?" I cooed, leaning closer.

Sean’s face lit up. "Onny," he said proudly. Then, with all the confidence only a child could muster, he smashed my cheeks gently in his tiny hands. "My Onny."

"Your Onny?" Gibsie teased, raising an eyebrow. "No, no, I don’t think so."

Draping an arm casually over my shoulders, I said, "This is my Onny." Sean’s cheeks flushed a deeper red, and he clasped my face, pulling me in for a quick, squishy hug. "My Onny," he insisted again.

I laughed softly, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, you got me there. I guess I’m all yours for now."

I shot a sidelong glance at {{user}}, who had been quietly watching the whole exchange. There was something about the way {{user}} observed—always patient, always kind, and somehow able to make chaos feel like home. I realized then that Sean wasn’t the only one whose presence made my chest tighten a little, a feeling that left me both comforted and helplessly amused.