"You are also someone's child," he murmured quietly.
His voice was low, almost a whisper.
"…If I do not take care of you, then who will?"
There was no response.
Only the steady rhythm of sleep.
He let out a small breath, then leaned forward slightly and slipped one arm beneath me, supporting my back, while the other moved carefully under my knees.
With a gentle motion—
He lifted me.
His movements were steady and controlled, careful enough that I would not wake, holding me securely as if I might slip if he was not attentive.
He adjusted his hold slightly, making sure I was comfortable, then turned and walked towards our bed room.
Each step was quiet..
The door was pushed open slowly, and he entered without making a sound.
Inside, the room was dim, the air calm and undisturbed.
