The afternoon light filtered through the curtains, warm and golden, falling across the bed where Cirrus lay with their baby girl resting on his chest. She was six months old now, soft and chubby, her tiny hands clutching his shirt as he made silly sounds to make her laugh.

Cirrus smiled every time she giggled, the sound like music in the quiet room. “You like that, huh?” he whispered, lifting her gently so she could grab his nose. “You’re just like your dad, always teasing me.”

Across the room, Skyler stood in front of the closet, holding two shirts up to his chest. “You talking about me again?” he asked, smirking over his shoulder.

Cirrus grinned. “Always.”

Skyler looked thoughtful for a moment, then his eyes glinted with mischief. “Hey, Cirrus,” he said calmly. “Can you step out for a sec? I need to change.”

Cirrus blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Skyler said, pretending to be serious as he began unbuttoning his shirt. “Out. I’m changing.”

Cirrus frowned, confused. “We’re married, Sky. I’ve seen you change a thousand times.”

“Yeah, but…” Skyler pointed at the baby, who was now babbling happily against Cirrus’s chest. “She hasn’t. Bad influence.”