Leon stood there for a long moment, taking in the sight of his little world piled together on the couch. The exhaustion of the week melted into something warmer, softer. Carefully, he bent down and slid his arms beneath the girls first, lifting them one by one and laying them gently in their cribs. Neither stirred, their small hands still curled like petals in sleep.
When he returned for Elias, the boy blinked up at him, bunny still clutched in one fist. Leon chuckled softly, "Still keeping watch, hm?" Elias made a small cooing sound, as if in reply, before tucking his face into his father's shoulder.
Once all three were settled, Leon returned to the couch. Aria was still asleep, hair messy, lips slightly parted, the kind of vulnerable tiredness that only came from giving everything she had. He crouched beside her and whispered, "You did so well."
He didn't wake her. Instead, he fetched a blanket, draped it over her, and let her sleep where she was. He busied himself quietly—tidying toys, setting aside bottles left on the counter, straightening up what chaos the week had wrought. For the first time in days, he allowed himself to simply be a father and a husband, with no meetings to pull him away.
Later, when Aria stirred and blinked sleepily, she found him sitting on the nursery floor with Elias perched in his lap, reading aloud in a low, steady voice while the girls sighed softly in their dreams. She smiled at the sight, warmth blooming in her chest.
Leon looked up, caught her gaze, and offered the smallest smile. "Go back to sleep. I've got them tonight."
And for once, she didn't argue. She let herself trust the weight in his words, knowing he meant it.