#oh how soft...........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The little twins, with two each, glance at their papa who sits between them. Sylus shrugs and leans back on his chair, “I don’t like sweets.” 

“Papa.” Kyros says quietly, giving his one marshmallow, half mauled by his careful teething. 

Sylus smiles gratefully, taking the sticky dessert from his fingers and kissing his brow. “Thank you, my Kyros— agh!”

“Papa, ah- ah, papa!” Lucian has stood on his chair, and stuck his tacky little palms on Sylus’s cheeks. He turns his father to face him and stuffs his half-eaten marshmallow in his mouth. You’re losing it behind the camera. 

Sylus fights for his life to stutter out a response. His jaw pried open by tiny fists. “—cia-ffphrww- gen-gentle! Rewfian!” he sputters, mouth stuffed with candy. 

Little uncoordinated fingers pull themselves out of Sylus’s mouth. Their owner wears a proud smile and watches as Sylus wipes away the gooey sugar on his lips. Bright scarlet eyes turn to you, to the camera. “Mama, i sharin’!”

You struggle through tears. “I know, baby. Good job!” 

“Welcome. Papa—you welcome!” Lucian cheers, hopping on his chair, words joyfully yelled into his papa’s ear like saying it louder would make it mean more. Sylus bears down on the seat with his one arm to keep it steady, squeezes his eyes tight at the sound.

He gives Lucian a fond look, endlessly amused by his boy. “Thank you, Lucian.” 

The big twins are too quiet. It’s an olympic sport at this point to keep yourself composed, stomach aching from the laughing. 

Luke is the first to shrug, a refined picture of innocence… never mind the white coated fingers and the powder stained lips. He gestures to his (now) empty plate, saying, “I didn’t get any either.” 

You snort and turn to Kieran. “and you?” 

He stares at his brother in disbelief. Then thrusts an acccusatory thumb at Luke. He’d never admit it, but his sulky pout was caught clear and crisp on camera. 

Ever perceptive, Lucian is quick to move, jumping off his chair and climbing Kieran’s lap. He must rectify this situation. Sticky fingers reach to touch his face, another half-molten treat in his hand. “Ah-ah, Kee-wan, ah!” 

“No—no, thanks! I’m good!” Kieran catches the boy in his lap, dodging sugar-coated fingers with practiced grace and older-brother horror. Luke is in tatters, stomach bursting at the seams. Kieran cries out, “Lucian! I’m oka—mphrf.” 

Meanwhile, Kyros has made his way around the table to you under the watchful eye of his papa. And he is tugging on your pant leg, offering you his other marshmallow. Gently destroyed as well, but the most pristine of all. “Mama, sellow.” 

Your heart swells. You catch Sylus’s soft gaze from across the table and come to silent agreement. 

Yes, you think. You have raised these boys well. 

☽˚｡⋆ about the little twins | more sylus and little twins | little twins with big twins ⋆｡˚ ☁︎

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆