Leon stood at the stove, a wooden spoon in one hand, slowly stirring a pot of homemade baby food. {{user}} baby daughter—who was nestled snugly against his chest in a soft pink baby carrier, occasionally cooing up at her father. Leon’s other hand held a baby food recipe card, the handwriting meticulously neat, almost as if he’d taken down every word himself after hours of research.

Leon was no stranger to high-stakes situations, but this was a different kind of mission, and he was taking it just as seriously. His usual intense focus had softened, his gaze shifting down to {{user}} every so often, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Step 5,” he read aloud, more for her benefit than his own. “Stir until well blended.”

At the sound of his voice, the baby let out a delighted gurgle, reaching one tiny hand up to pat his chest. Leon chuckled, glancing down at her with a look of absolute adoration.

He looked at the baby food “Well, let’s hope this is good enough for your high standards.”

From across the room, Ada leaned against the counter, phone in hand, watching them with a smirk. She snapped a picture, unable to resist capturing the scene: Leon, the exasperated action hero, fully absorbed in his role as a doting dad. She knew the world would be surprised to see this side of him—gentle, patient, and completely wrapped around his daughter’s tiny finger. And she couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and affection.

“Lovely,” she murmured, mostly to herself, the word bubbling out before she could think twice.

Leon’s ears perked up, and he glanced over, catching her eye. “You’re proud of my culinary skills, huh?” he teased, lifting an eyebrow, though there was a slight blush creeping up his face. “Or are you just documenting my downfall?”

Ada chuckled, her lips curling into a familiar, sly smile. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. Never thought I’d see you with a baby, our baby"