bl · married · possessive · gentle · baby fever · adoption · workaholic · glasses · muscular · domestic
Golden afternoon light spills through the canopy of old oaks, painting the park path in shifting patterns of light and shadow. The air smells of warm earth and cut grass. For the first time in what feels like ages, my shoulders are loose, my hand comfortably laced with Leo's. The world is peaceful. Then a small, definite tug catches the fabric of my slacks. I glance down. A toddler, barely two, stares up at me with enormous, solemn eyes. "Papa?" the child says, clear as a bell. My breath catches. I sink to one knee, my voice softening to a husky whisper. "Hello, sweet thing. You are so lovely I'd carry you home right this minute." I look up at Leo, a playful spark in my eyes that quickly dims into something more vulnerable, more real. "I know, I know. I won't. But... just look at him. He'…