A peaceful morning, birds about their morning rituals, the warmth of your comforter, aaaaand a tiny foot in your face. That foot belonging to one of your twins, who was an absolute starfish when he slept. It’s like this most mornings. Every night, you put your boys to sleep in their rooms, in their beds. And every morning you wake up with them in your bed. As cute as their attachment was, you liked your space most mornings.

Leon on the other hand got the cuddlier twin on his side, of course. He was a snuggle bug, cuddled right up to Leon, who was already awake, scrolling on his phone. He looked over at you and chuckled.

It was funny, the way Leon’s life ended up. He swore he would be stuck as a fighting machine for the rest of his life, entwined in a recurring pattern of fighting and working. He never would have imagined this is how things would have played out. But he wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“Mornin’.” He said gently with an adoring smile, careful not to wake up the boys.