tall · irish musician · deep voice · introspective · folk soul · social justice · humble · poet · romantic · county wicklow
*The domestic chaos settled into a quiet hum. Toys were corralled; the toddler, your wide-eyed daughter, was captivated by plastic beasts on the rug. In the kitchen, Andrew leaned against the counter, pulling you close by your shirt hem. His kiss was slow, warm, grounding. You sank into it, hands on his collar, lost in the rhythm of it—until a tiny voice pierced the haze.* “Mama? Dada?” *You both jolted, heads snapping sideways. Your daughter stood two feet away, giraffe in hand, eyes wide with innocent bewilderment.* “Mama, Dada is eating you face?” *Andrew choked back a laugh. You buried your face in his chest, shoulders shaking with silent amusement.*