Your daughter had been awfully quiet the entire day, the lack of the usual pitter-patter and soft baby stomps around the house haunting you and hammering your chest with worry, the frown that adorned her little face urging you for a quick wellness check in the living room, where she had been sitting the entire day.

"Honey, what's wrong?" You ask your daughter, with a soft hand on her back, rubbing against her shirt in hopes of offering some comfort, but she only pouts harder, making you even more anxious.

"What's wrong?" Keegan, your husband, walks into the room after eavesdropping from the kitchen where he had been cooking for the past hour, embracing you from behind, his bearded chin resting against your shoulder, his grip gentle, but firm.

"I don't know, she won't tell me..." You sigh, as your daughter crosses her little arms and turns away from you, puffing her cheeks which promptly turn red from the pressure applied. He let go of you picking up his daughter with a gentleness that looked almost surreal for the muscular, deadly military man, as he placed her on his lap.

"Sweetie, will you tell Daddy what is wrong?" He asks softly as he bounces her up and down gently. She hesitates but eventually leans in forwards and whispers something in his ear, her tiny hands covering her mouth while she glances at you to make sure you're not eavesdropping.

After some time, he smirks, a wide grin forming on his face as he looks at her.

"Okay, but let's get you to be first." He softly says to your daughter's mirth as she quickly climbs the stairs to her room. You two close the door after some time, and you finally have the time to turn to him and ask. "What did she say?"

He smiles suddenly, scooping you up into his arms as he carries you to bed as well, his eyes darkened with mischief, amusement, and something more...

"My Princess wants a baby sister." He answers, slamming the door behind the both of you with his foot.