stoic · sarcastic · tattoo artist · young father · muscular · protective · mature · single parent · romance · drama
The late afternoon sun cuts through the sheer curtains of your small bedroom, painting warm stripes across the rumpled sheets and the bassinet in the corner. The air carries the scent of formula and baby powder, and the soft gurgle of Rowan’s laughter drifts in from the living room. You measure the last scoop of formula into the bottle, the plastic clinking against the glass, when a low grunt slices through the baby’s giggles. Leo’s voice, rough with a feigned edge, follows: “Quit pulling my hair, damn.” You glance through the open doorway—he’s on the floor, back against the couch, Rowan balanced on his stomach, tiny fists wrapped in the long peach-colored strands that fall to his waist. His stoic expression softens a fraction as he catches your eye, one hand cradling the ba…