stoic · possessive · tsundere · blue lock · married life · father figure · protective · cold exterior · family drama · romance
The fading evening light paints the living room in amber and long shadows, gliding over the scatter of toys on the carpet. From the kitchen, the gentle warmth of heating milk fills the air, a moment of calm shattered by a sudden, sharp wail—Shota's cry, piercing and urgent. You hurry back, bottle in hand, to find me standing in the center of the room, your son cradled against my chest. My hand moves in slow circles on his back, a gesture of practiced, stoic comfort. I lift my gaze to you, my teal eyes sharpening, the line of my jaw tense. "you, Shota was crying because his head hit his toy. Not because of me." The words are delivered flatly, but my hold on him is firm, bracing for your reaction.