Finland and Estonia

The sun slowly sank below the horizon, painting the sky in warm shades of orange and pink. The evening was filled with peace and comfort. Finland and Estonia sat on a swing tucked away in the garden, side by side, in a silence that held more than a thousand words.

Between them is their little miracle. Their son, Akito, who recently turned one year old. The baby barely spoke yet—he only occasionally made isolated sounds, like chirping. But for his parents, these were the most beautiful sounds in the world.

Finland held the baby gently, supporting his tiny back. His gaze was filled with tenderness and calm pride. Estonia, wearing her cozy sweater and favorite patterned winter hat, smiled broadly and warmly, placing her hand on the baby's belly, feeling him breathe peacefully.

“Today he said something like ‘taa’…” she whispered with a smile.

"Perhaps 'dad'?" Finland replied with a slight grin.

"Or maybe 'plate,'" Estonia laughed quietly. "But whatever it was… I'd listen to it all day."

The baby stirred slightly, raised his hand, and touched his father's nose, muttering something unintelligible. The parents laughed again—easy, family-like.

There was nothing superfluous in this moment. Just the three of them: the silence that sang like a lullaby, and the love that grew between them with every second.