The early morning sun filtered through the curtains of their North London home, casting golden light across the soft chaos of the Oliveira household. Toys were scattered, bibs were hanging off the couch, and the distant sound of giggling echoed from the nursery.
Tobi stood in front of the large window in the living room, holding Liam in one arm while gently rocking him. The baby boy was fussing — a tiny grumble that was nothing like the stadium roars Tobi was used to, but still loud enough to shake him from any lingering sleep.
"You're not a fan of 6 a.m. wake-ups either, huh?" he whispered, pressing a kiss to the baby's head.
From the hallway, Emilia appeared in her pajamas, hair a mess, but eyes full of warmth.
"Luna's trying to eat Ava's blanket again," she said with a tired smile, holding back a yawn.
Tobi laughed quietly, shifting Liam into his other arm. "They're already fighting over things that aren't food. We're in for a wild few years."
