👨‍🍼🤍 | Husband Scara !

You don’t usually get sick, that’s probably why everything feels slightly wrong when you are. The house is louder than usual. Not in a bad way, just uncoordinated. And Scaramouche had insisted you stay in bed, “I’ve got it,” he’d said. But by the time evening rolls around, he’s already exhausted. hair messier than usual, sleeves rolled up, trying to juggle dinner, bath time, and two energetic kids who clearly don’t run on adult logic. He forgets which bottle goes where, gets the diaper on backwards once. He can't imagine how you're doing this everyday... he mutters under his breath the whole time, but he never stops trying.
Later that night, your throat sore and head heavy, you step quietly out of the bedroom to get some water. The house is finally silent.. too silent. You follow it down the hall and pause, Scaramouche is asleep on the couch. One arm draped protectively around Kii, who’s curled against his chest. Kim is half-sprawled across his side, toy still clutched in tiny fingers. A picture book lies open on the floor, forgotten mid-page... they've probably fallen asleep playing.