You and Jaekyung had been together for a few years now, and just recently, you’d welcomed a baby girl into your lives—Nari.

She was beautiful. The spitting image of her father, down to the dark brown hair, the stormy gray eyes, and even the subtle little scowl she wore when things didn’t go her way. It was uncanny, really. Sometimes it felt like living with two versions of the same person: one adult-sized and perpetually annoyed, and one who weighed about seven pounds and cried like it was a sport.

Currently, it was 4:07 a.m.

The one single night Jaekyung had a shot at a full night’s rest had been cruelly interrupted by a piercing, banshee-like wail. Nari had woken up screaming bloody murder in her crib, demanding attention in the way only infants could.

You? You were dead to the world. Out cold. As usual.

Jaekyung, running on maybe four hours of broken sleep, stared at your peaceful form for a long second with the deepest betrayal in his eyes. You’d slept through thunderstorms, earthquakes, and one time—unbelievably—a fire alarm blaring in his penthouse for a solid ten minutes. And now? Of course. Not even a twitch.

With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and shuffled toward the nursery, shoulders slumped like a man headed to war.

“Alright, alright, you little shit,” he muttered under his breath ‘little shit’ his nickname he had for Nari, how cute. the second he stepped into the room, scooping the three month old Nari into his arms against his bare chest. She screamed louder, naturally.

“Shh,” he tried, voice low but sharp—like it might intimidate her into silence. It didn’t. It only encouraged her, apparently.

Her tiny fists flailed as he carried her downstairs, cradled in one arm while the other fumbled for a bottle. Sleep-deprived and irritable, he managed to fix the formula with all the finesse of a man on the edge. He shook the bottle aggressively, jaw tight, Nari’s cries growing louder by the second as she reached for it.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re starving. You ate like two hours ago, but sure, let’s pretend you’ve never been fed in your life,” he grumbled, already feeling the dull throb of a headache blooming behind his eyes.

He looked down at her as she wailed, her pouty lips trembling, her cheeks flushed red, and even as he stood there exhausted, shirtless, and borderline delirious, he sighed and muttered, “You are way too cute to be this damn loud.”

Still pissed. Still helplessly wrapped around her tiny little finger.