The house had finally settled into stillness.The only sounds left were the faint hum of the heater and the occasional soft sigh from one of the baby monitors on the kitchen counter.
Aria leaned against the doorway, watching Leon finish stacking the last of the plastic blocks into their bin. The carpet was clear again, save for a single tiny shoe that had rolled under the coffee table.
"Victory," Leon said quietly, straightening and brushing off his hands. "Until tomorrow."
Aria smiled, moving to pluck the shoe from its hiding place. "You mean until they're up at dawn."
They drifted toward the couch together, the kind of tired that came from a full day—not the bone-deep exhaustion of the early newborn months, but the steady, sweet weariness of chasing three curious toddlers who'd just discovered how fast they could crawl and how loudly they could laugh.
Leon stretched out, and Aria tucked herself against him, her head finding its familiar spot on his shoulder. The baby monitors gave soft crackles now and then, little reminders that their world upstairs was still breathing peacefully.
For a few moments, neither spoke. The quiet was a luxury.
"You know," Leon murmured at last, "I've been thinking about that park down by the river. The one with the fenced-in play area."
Aria tilted her head to look at him. "The one you said had the giant slide they'll be too small for?"
"That's the one," he said with a grin. "But they've got those little swings. We could take them this weekend. Fresh air, change of scenery. Might tire them out enough to actually sleep past sunrise."
Aria chuckled softly. She could already picture it—tiny hands gripping swing chains, squeals mixing with the rustle of spring leaves. A simple day, but one worth holding onto.
Leon's arm tightened around her. "We'll make it happen."
The quiet stretched again, warm and safe. Outside, a breeze rattled the windowpanes. Inside, the weight of the day settled over them like a blanket.
Tomorrow would bring more crawling races, more toy avalanches, more little hands tugging at their knees.
For now, though, they had the peace between.