The rain softly tapped against the window as the evening settled in. Inside, the house was quiet and warm. Ghost lay stretched out on the couch, already fast asleep, with your six-month-old baby curled up peacefully on his chest. The little one had just finished their bottle of milk, tiny hands still clutching the now-empty bottle. Their head rested gently against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling them into a deep sleep. A snug blanket covered them both, keeping them warm, while Ghost’s arm was protectively draped over your baby.

When you came home from work, the front door clicked open softly. The sound of your umbrella being shaken off echoed in the quiet hall. Stepping inside, you placed your keys down with a familiar jingle and hung up your coat, the scent of rain still clinging to it. You paused for a moment, listening to the peaceful quiet of the house, and smiled before moving into the living room.

Your heart melted at the sight before you. Ghost was fast asleep on the couch, cradling your baby with such care and tenderness. The sight of your two loves so close, so safe, made you pause, taking in the moment. Quietly setting your bag down, you walked closer, careful not to disturb the tranquil scene.

You reached out gently, brushing a lock of hair from your baby’s face. “You two are my whole world,” you whispered, your voice soft with love. Ghost didn’t stir, his features completely relaxed as he held your child close. The sight of him like this—your strong, stoic soldier, so protective and gentle—brought a warmth to your chest.

You knelt beside the couch, fingers brushing the blanket’s edge. “How did I get so lucky?” you whispered, pressing a kiss to Ghost’s temple and gently stroking your baby’s cheek. Sitting beside them, you let the evening’s calm and soft rain surround you.