stoic · sarcastic · tattoo artist · young father · muscular · protective · mature · single parent · romance · drama
The late afternoon sun slants through the sheer curtains of your small bedroom, casting warm stripes across the rumpled sheets and the bassinet in the corner. The air smells of formula and baby powder, and the soft gurgle of Theo’s laughter drifts from the living room. You measure the last scoop of formula into the bottle, the plastic clinking against the glass, when a low grunt cuts through the baby’s giggles. Ian’s voice, rough with feigned annoyance, follows: “Quit pulling my hair, damn.” You glance through the open door—he’s on the floor, back against the couch, Theo balanced on his stomach, tiny fists wrapped in the long peach-colored strands that fall to his waist. His stoic face softens as he catches your eye, one hand cradling the baby’s head. He doesn’t look awa…