It started with a simple declaration.
"We should give them their first proper bath today," Aria said, her voice calm, eyes still half-lidded with sleep as she sat cross-legged on the nursery rug.
Leon blinked. "All three?"
She tilted her head. "Unless you're planning to space them out over three business quarters."
He exhaled deeply, rubbed the back of his neck, and muttered, "We can do this."
And that was how he found himself, sleeves rolled up, towel tucked over one shoulder like a war general preparing for a multi-front campaign.
The bathroom was warm, filled with soft steam and the faint scent of lavender baby soap. The counter was a neatly arranged disaster: towels, fresh onesies, wipes, three tiny bath tubs set into a larger basin, and the tiniest socks ever created.
Leon stood over them with the kind of intensity usually reserved for stock market crashes.
"You'll do great," Aria whispered, placing Elias gently into his arms like a relay runner handing off something sacred.
"Right," Leon said, voice steady, arms bracing. "Let's do this."
Elias went first.
Serious. Silent. Watchful.
He blinked up at Leon, utterly unfazed by the change in temperature or the small stream of warm water cascading over his little head. When Leon wiped gently around his cheeks and behind his ears, the baby let out a low coo—like a grunt of acceptance. A bath was a mission. He understood missions.
"That's my boy," Leon murmured, lifting him with practiced hands and wrapping him in a towel. "Just like me. Quiet. Tactical. No drama."
Aria raised a brow. "He peed on you halfway through."
Leon sighed. "Yes, but respectfully."
Then came Amara.
Amara, who observed the room like a queen deciding whether to be amused or offended.
She did not scream. She glared. Every time water touched her belly, she kicked her little feet like she was plotting rebellion. When the sponge touched her shoulder, she squawked—short, loud, commanding.
Leon chuckled, carefully supporting her as she wriggled with dramatic flair.
"She's got opinions," he muttered, trying not to soak himself as she slapped at the surface with a soggy fist. "She's definitely second in command."
Aria leaned over, smiling softly. "She always looks like she's about to file a complaint."
Leon gave her a sly look. "Wonder where she got that from."
Aria narrowed her eyes. "Careful."
He smirked. "I'm just saying—if Elias is me, then both our daughters clearly got your gift for passionate expression."
"Passionate?" Aria echoed dryly. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"Absolutely," he said. "You birthed two tiny versions of yourself. And I'm outnumbered."
Amara sneezed mid-glare, then promptly yawned, as if to say you're dismissed, before dozing off in his arms.
And finally—Lila.
The smallest, the loudest, the most.
The moment her toes touched water, she screamed like the world had betrayed her.
Leon panicked. "Is it too hot? Too cold? Too—wet?!"
"It's perfect," Aria said, holding back a laugh as she brought over the soft sponge.
Lila continued to wail like a soprano at full volume.
Leon tried to soothe her with a song. She screamed louder.
He tried soft words. She thrashed.
"She hates you," Aria said lightly.
"She hates the concept of bathing," he muttered, rocking her gently, desperate to calm the storm.
"Want me to try?"
"No," Leon said stubbornly, adjusting his grip. "We finish what we start."
After several harrowing minutes—and enough dramatic pauses to rival an opera—Lila finally quieted. Not from peace, but sheer exhaustion. Her hiccuping sobs dissolved into snores the second he wrapped her in a towel.
Leon sank to the bathroom floor, soaked, breathless, and grinning.
"I think we just lived through a natural disaster," he said.
Aria knelt beside him, placing a kiss on his damp cheek. "Welcome to parenting."
That night, with the three of them bundled in their bassinets, fresh and warm and smelling of lavender, Leon stood at the doorway and whispered, "Tomorrow, we're going back to sponging."
Aria snorted behind him. "You did great."
He looked over his shoulder. "I love them. But Lila's a drama queen. Amara's the boss. And Elias is… negotiating peace treaties in his sleep."
"You're just saying that because the girls remind you of me."
"I'm saying," Leon murmured with a smile, wrapping an arm around her waist, "that I fell in love with one fierce woman—and now I've got two more to answer to. Elias and I are going to need a secret handshake."
She laughed into his chest.
And together, they watched the babies sleep, hearts full, arms wrapped tight around each other.