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A faint glimmer of light crept through the gap in the curtains, falling across the large, soft bed. Law woke first, his internal clock as precise as ever. He turned gently and noticed a small bulge had somehow appeared between him and Shanks during the night-Lawrie must have sneaked in again with his little pillow. Now curled in the crook of Shanks's arm, his red hair brushing against his father's chin, the little one slept soundly, his cheeks flushed pink.
Law's lips curved slightly. Just as he was about to quietly get up, he saw Lawrie unconsciously kick out in his sleep-
"Ouch!"
A precise kick landed squarely on Shanks's stomach.
Shanks let out a muffled groan, groggily opened his eyes, and found himself staring at his son's innocent sleeping face, as well as the very real little foot planted on his stomach. He blinked, still half-asleep, but his large hand had already instinctively reached out to tousle Lawrie's hair. "Little rascal... still playing soccer in your dreams?"
Lawrie woke at the sound of his voice. He rubbed his eyes, his amber-gold gaze still misty. Recognizing Shanks, he immediately broke into a grin. "Papa, good morning!" With that, he burrowed deeper into Shanks's arms, his little feet mischievously pressing down again.
"Again?" Shanks was now fully awake. He grabbed his son's wiggling foot and gently tickled his sole. "Ambushing Papa? Take this!"
Lawrie immediately dissolved into giggles, squirming to get away. "Tickles! Papa bad!"
Shanks seized the opportunity to lift him completely, swinging him gently in the air. "Say that again? Who's bad, huh?"
"Papa bad!" Lawrie laughed breathlessly, his little hands waving wildly.
"One more time?" Shanks pretended he was about to toss him onto the soft duvet.
"Daddy, save me!" Lawrie turned to Law for help, but his eyes sparkled with playful mischief.
Law had already sat up, leaning against the headboard, watching the morning wrestling match between father and son. A tender smile rippled in his golden eyes. Morning light fell on his pale profile and slightly disheveled black hair, softening his usual cool contours.
"Don't play too rough," his voice carried the low huskiness of just waking. "Careful, he might fall."
"Hear that? Daddy said don't play rough." Shanks immediately pulled Lawrie back, securely encircling him in his arms, using his newly grown stubble to rub against his son's tender cheek. "But Papa's morning attack isn't over yet-"
"Wow! Scratchy! Daddy!" Lawrie laughed and dodged, his small hands pushing Shanks's face as he squirmed toward Law.
Law ended up squeezed between them, smiling as he gently blocked. "Alright, both of you go wash your faces."
Breakfast was equally lively. Lawrie sat in his elevated chair, one hand clutching a small bear-shaped spoon, diligently attacking the pancakes Shanks had specially cut into small pieces, maple syrup clinging to the corners of his mouth. Shanks quickly scanned the morning financial briefing on his tablet while occasionally reaching over to wipe the syrup from his son's face and pushing the milk glass closer to his hand.
Law ate quickly and quietly, but his gaze remained fixed on the father and son. When Shanks, too absorbed in the news, almost stuck his fork into Lawrie's plate, Law gently tapped his wrist with his fingertip.
"Idiot, your fried egg is on the right."
Shanks went "Ah," looked down, grinned, and immediately forked his own fried egg, offering half onto Law's plate as a peace offering. "Dr. Law, eat more. You have surgeries today, right?"
"Mm, two." Law didn't refuse the half egg and ate it quietly.
"Daddy works hard!" Lawrie raised his syrup-covered spoon like a toast.
The smile in Law's eyes deepened. He took a tissue and carefully wiped a bit of jam from the tip of Lawrie's nose. "Be good, don't run around. That'll make it easier for Daddy."
"I promise!" Lawrie puffed out his small chest, then sneakily glanced at Shanks and added quietly, "...At least today."
Shanks was caught between laughter and helplessness. He flicked his son's forehead. "Not any day!"
After breakfast, Law changed into a neatly ironed light blue shirt and suit pants, picked up his briefcase. Shanks carried Lawrie to see him off at the door. Lawrie hugged Law's neck and loudly kissed his cheek: "Dad, come home early!"
"Okay." Law kissed his son's forehead in return, then looked up at Shanks.
Shanks understood. He leaned in and quickly pecked him on the lips. "Take care, Dr. Law."
Law softly hummed in response, the tips of his ears slightly red, then turned and left the house.
After the door closed, Shanks lifted Lawrie onto his shoulders. "Let's go, little adventurer. Today, you're going to work with Papa at the company!"
On the top floor of the Figarland Group headquarters, next to the president's office, there was a specially created bright area. Soft carpet spread on the floor, and inside the playpen were scattered various educational toys, picture books, and a small slide. On the wall hung Lawrie's own abstract-style family portrait. This was Lawrie's exclusive little world at the company.
Shanks draped his suit jacket over the chair back, loosened two buttons of his collar, and placed Lawrie inside the playpen. "Play by yourself for a while. Papa needs to handle a few urgent emails."
Lawrie obediently nodded, picked up a huge bucket of blocks, and began building his super castle. Shanks sat down at the desk a few steps away and started his day's work. Occasionally, he'd look up and see his son's focused profile or hear him muttering the adventure stories of his block characters, and his heart would fill with a peaceful warmth.
Around ten in the morning, the office door was knocked on, then pushed open without waiting for a response. A man with a build similar to Shanks, equally striking red hair, but with a colder, more severe temperament walked in. His red eyes were as sharp as an eagle's. He swept a glance around the office and immediately locked onto the bright red hair inside the playpen.
"Uncle!" Lawrie's eyes lit up. He dropped his blocks, scrambled up, and rushed to the playpen edge.
The visitor was none other than Shanks's twin brother, Figarland Shamrock. The cold, hard corner of his mouth softened almost imperceptibly when he saw his nephew. He strode over, bent down, and effortlessly lifted Lawrie out of the playpen with one hand.
"I heard you staged a 'solo adventure' yesterday?" Shamrock's voice was low and steady, but carried an undeniable authority. He carefully examined the little one in his arms, confirming he was unharmed.
Lawrie hugged his uncle's neck, blinked his golden eyes, and looked a bit guilty, his eyelashes drooping. "I... I missed Daddy."
"Missing him is no reason to run off alone." Shamrock gently touched Lawrie's forehead with his knuckle. The movement seemed strict, but the force was extremely light. "Do you know how worried your Papa and Dad were yesterday? The entire security department was alerted."
Lawrie rested his little head on his broad shoulder, his voice muffled. "I know I was wrong... Papa hugged me so tight yesterday, he almost cried."
"Serves him right." Shamrock commented on his brother without mercy, then his tone softened, carrying a rare gentleness. "But you too, Lawrie. You're still too small. The outside world holds too many unpredictable dangers for you. Promise Uncle, if you want to go somewhere in the future, you must tell Papa or Dad, or any trusted adult, and let them take you, okay?"
Lawrie looked up at Shamrock's red eyes, so similar to his Papa's yet deeper, and seriously nodded. "Okay, I promise Uncle."
"Good boy." He ruffled Lawrie's red hair, then pulled an exquisite small box from his inner suit pocket. "A gift from my business trip. Don't eat it all in one day."
Lawrie opened it to find beautifully packaged imported chocolates inside. He cheered, hugged Shamrock's neck, and planted a loud kiss. "Thank you, Uncle! I love Uncle best!"
"Oh? More than you love Papa?" Shanks had unknowingly stopped working and approached, pretending to be jealous.
"Love both!" Lawrie answered cleverly, one arm around Shamrock, the other reaching for Shanks.
Shamrock glanced at his younger brother and handed Lawrie over. "Keep better track of your son. Next time, I'll discipline him for you."
Shanks took Lawrie, grinning. "Got it, stern Uncle Shamrock. Want some coffee?"
"Can't, another meeting." Shamrock looked again at Lawrie, who was peeling chocolate wrappers in Shanks's arms, and finally fixed his gaze on Shanks, briefly saying, "You too, stop being so careless."
With that, he gave Lawrie a slight nod and turned to leave the office swiftly.
Shanks carried his son to the window, looking down at the traffic flowing through the city below. "Your uncle, he's cold on the surface, but he really dotes on you."
"Yeah!" Lawrie shoved a piece of chocolate into Shanks's mouth. "Uncle's gift, share half with Papa."
Shanks savored the sweet chocolate, his heart sweeter than honey.
The afternoon passed smoothly, punctuated by Lawrie's moments of quiet play and occasional runs to Shanks's leg seeking hugs. Near closing time, Shanks finished his last document, checked the time, and stretched.
"Let's go, baby. Let's pick up Dad from work... actually, first let's buy Daddy's favorite dessert, then go home and wait for him!"
Lawrie immediately dropped his toys and ran over to hug Shanks's leg. "Buy chestnut cake! Daddy loves that!"
"Right, and their sea salt cheese tart too." Shanks lifted him up and helped him put on his little jacket.
They went to the discreet but highly praised dessert shop Law often mentioned, buying freshly baked chestnut cake and sea salt cheese tart. The sweet fragrance filled the car. Back home, Shanks tied on his apron and started preparing dinner. Lawrie helped nearby, which mainly involved playing with dough and sneakily eating cut fruit.
When the sound of the key turning in the lock came, both father and son in the kitchen turned their heads simultaneously.
Law walked in, carrying the faint scent of disinfectant and tiredness. But when he saw Shanks in the silly cartoon apron, Lawrie with flour on his face, and the pretty dessert box on the dining table, his golden eyes instantly lit up, and the fatigue seemed to largely dissipate.
"I'm home."
"Welcome home, honey/Daddy!"
Lawrie rushed over and hugged his leg. Shanks walked over, took his briefcase and coat, and naturally placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
"Surgery went well?"
"Yeah." Law bent down and lifted Lawrie, kissing his cheek, his gaze falling on the dining table. "You bought dessert?"
"And your favorite grilled fish, almost ready." Shanks proudly lifted his chin. "Go wash your hands, dinner's almost ready."
Dinner was warm and pleasant. Lawrie chattered about what he played at the company, how Uncle came and gave chocolates, how high he built his tower with blocks. Shanks, while serving food to Law, added details, occasionally teasing that Shamrock was still so pretentious. Law listened quietly, a faint smile always playing on his lips, occasionally responding, warmth flowing in his eyes under the lamplight.
After dinner, Lawrie was allowed a small piece of chestnut cake, his eyes squinting with satisfaction. Bath time brought another round of playful fun, and finally Shanks successfully lulled the tired little guy to sleep with the story of "the big bad wolf."
The children's room door gently closed. In the living room, only the two of them remained. Shanks opened the bottle of red wine Law liked and poured two glasses. They sat side by side on the sofa, sharing the leftover sea salt cheese tart, looking at the city nightscape outside the window, chatting idly.
Law leaned against Shanks's shoulder, slowly drinking his wine, his body completely relaxed.
"Sham came today?" he asked.
"Yeah, specially came to see the little rascal, and incidentally gave me a lecture." Shanks put his arm around his shoulder, chuckling softly. "But he really did intimidate Lawrie. The little rascal promised not to run around anymore."
"Good." Law closed his eyes. "Thank you, Shanks."
"Thanking me again?" Shanks turned his head and kissed his hair. "Between us, never need to say that."
Law didn't speak further, just leaned closer against him.
The night was gentle, the lights warm and inviting. The room was filled with the lingering sweetness of dessert, the mellow richness of red wine, and the peaceful atmosphere of home. The day's busyness, yesterday's scare, were quietly smoothed over in this peaceful, warm night, transforming into deeper bonds and happiness, settling in this space filled with love, constructed by two fathers and a little red-haired sun.
Tomorrow might bring new challenges, new busyness, but as long as they had each other, as long as this solid love served as their support, nothing was truly fearsome. This was their ordinary yet unique family daily life, and such days would continue for a long, long time.