Lyra was up before the alarm. Not just awake—buzzing.
By the time Will padded into the kitchen in his sweatpants, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, she was already crouched on the floor in front of the kitten's new food dish, pouring out an ambitious mountain of kibble from the bag she'd insisted on carrying all by herself.
"Lyra." His voice was low, still gravelly from sleep. "That's… a buffet for a tiger."
She grinned without looking up. "Midnight's hungry!"
The tiny black kitten sniffed the mound with the dainty caution of a creature that weighed less than the pile in front of it. Will sighed, crouched beside her, and gently scooped most of it back into the bag. "We don't want to make Muffin sick, sweetheart."
Lyra pouted but accepted the explanation, immediately switching to cooing at the kitten while Will moved to start the coffee machine. He was halfway through grinding beans when he realized something was off. The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
He turned—just in time to see Midnight batting a stray kibble across the kitchen floor while Lyra was on her hands and knees, determinedly chasing it before the kitten could.
"Hey—shoes!" he called, half laughing, half exasperated. "The school shoes, remember? And maybe not crawling on the floor in your uniform."
"But Midnight—"
"—will be here when you get home," he cut in gently, scooping her up under the arms. She squealed, kicking her feet and laughing, and he deposited her in a chair with a piece of toast as a peace offering.
By the time Eliza emerged—hair tousled from sleep, blouse half-buttoned—Will had managed to get Lyra dressed, Midnight contentedly eating appropriate portions, and breakfast more or less on the table.
"You look like you've done a full day's work already," she teased, pouring herself coffee.
Will only arched a brow. "Your daughter woke up with the dawn to feed her cat. I am now a certified livestock manager before eight a.m."
Lyra, mouth full of toast, cheerfully waved a hand. "And he was good at it!"
Eliza laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Will's cheek. "Hero."
Her scent—warm skin and faint vanilla—lingered just long enough for him to smirk. "You can reward me later."
She rolled her eyes but the pink in her cheeks betrayed her.
The morning wrapped in its usual flurry—Will handling the lunchbox, Eliza tying the last bow on Lyra's hair. At the school gate, Lyra ran ahead to join her classmates, but not before waving back at them with a grin so wide it made Eliza's heart ache in the best way.
When they got back in the car, Will reached over, threading his fingers through hers. "You know," he said, eyes still on the road, "I think I'm starting to like mornings like this."
Eliza smiled. "Me too."
Somehow, even with the kitten, the school run, and the toast crumbs still on the counter—they'd found their rhythm.