The sound of a key turning in the door breaks the quiet of the apartment. Heavy steps, the familiar rustle of a coat being hung up, and then that deep, warm voice you’ve been waiting to hear all day.

“I’m home, little one.”

Levin’s tone is calm, steady—the kind of voice that fills the room with comfort. He sets his briefcase down and glances toward the living room, where a pair of ears perk up at the sound.

You scramble to your feet, tail wagging fast enough to make the air swish. He chuckles, the tired lines around his eyes easing into a smile.

“Were you good while daddy was gone, little one?” he asks, kneeling down to meet your gaze.

You nod quickly, ears twitching, still wagging. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing over your hair, then scratching gently behind one ear.

“That’s my good pup,” he murmurs. “Thank you for waiting for me.” Levin says quietly, smiling as he adjusts your collar.