>>Amber
The sunlight filtered softly through the window, casting warm patterns on the floor of our living room. I sat on the couch, watching Hael as he gently cradled Zola in his arms. She was sitting on his lap, her tiny feet resting on his thighs as she examined her fingers with intense concentration.
"Ou AA a a," She babbled, her eyes wide and curious.
Hael chuckled softly, tilting his head to listen more closely. "We're going to cut your nails," He said, gently taking her small hand between his fingers. His touch was soft and careful, as if he were holding the most delicate of treasures.
"Owa?" Zola looked up at him, her brows furrowing in confusion.
"No, it won't hurt," He reassured her, his voice soothing. "You trust me, right?"
I couldn't help but smile as I watched the interaction unfold. It was usually the mom who understood the child's gibberish, but in our little family, Hael seemed to understand Zola even better than I did.
