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The campus had that weird quiet that only happened after everything was technically over, from a student perspective, but not for the professors.
Fluorescent lights still hummed in half-empty hallways. A janitor’s cart squeaked somewhere in the distance. The air smelled faintly of old paper, coffee, and stress that had soaked into the walls over decades. Wriothesley slammed his office door shut with his shoulder, dropped a stack of ungraded lab reports onto his desk, and stared at them like they had personally insulted his entire bloodline.
“…How,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face, “does a third-year forensics student confuse blood spatter with paint...?” He flipped open the top report.
"‘The victim may have been in close proximity to a Jackson Pollock situation.’”
Silence.
“…I’m going to start grading in red ink just so it matches the crime scene they clearly didn’t understand.” He stabbed his pen into a stack of nearby papers before taking a breath to grade the papers in front of him.
Across campus, in a much quieter, far more organized office, Neuvillette gently set down his pen. He had been grading for three hours. His posture was still perfect, his expression calm, but his eyes… his eyes carried the quiet devastation of a man who had just read one too many confidently incorrect essays. He picked up the latest paper.
“‘In conclusion, the law is mostly vibes.’”
A long pause.
“…I see.”
He set it down very carefully, as if sudden movement might cause something inside him to snap. He reached for his glass of water, which was, by now, room temperature. His eye twitched.
***
By the time Wriothesley made it home, the sky had turned that deep blue that sits just before full night. He kicked off his shoes by the door, already loosening his tie.
“I’m implementing a new rule,” he announced to no one in particular. “If your report makes me physically sigh, you lose ten points.” Then, from the living room came a small, delighted voice:
“Daddy!”
Before he could react, a tiny blur launched itself at him. Wriothesley barely caught Sigewinne mid-air, letting out a quiet 'oof' as she wrapped around him.
“Well, hello to you too,” he said, a tired grin breaking through anyway. “You trying to take me out?”
“Nope!” she said proudly. “I missed you.”
“…Yeah?”
“Yeah!!”
Her arms tightened. And just like that, some of the day peeled off his shoulders. From the doorway, Neuvillette watched the scene for a moment, coat still draped neatly over his arm.
“…You are late,” he said, though his tone was soft.
Wriothesley glanced over. “So are you.”
"No kidding. I was starting to think something happened to you before Neuvillette got back." Navia appeared from the kitchen with a small, worried expression on her face. "I know you two typically come home pretty late, but you're a whole hour and a half later than usual!!" There was a beat of guilty silence between them.
"Apologies, Miss. Navia. I assure you it will not happen again." Neuvillette said, nodding his head. Sigewinne twisted around in Wriothesley’s arms, spotting him.
“Papa!!”
Wriothesley barely had time to adjust before she wriggled out of his arms and leapt again, this time towards Neuvillette, who stepped forward just in time to catch her, holding her securely against his chest.
“You must exercise caution when launching yourself at people,” he said gently.
“But you caught me.”
“…I did.”
“And Daddy caught me too.”
Wriothesley leaned against the wall, smirking. “We’re highly trained.” Neuvillette gave him a look.
“…Debatable.”
***
Dinner was simple that night. Takeout containers spread across the table, half because they were too tired to cook and half because Wriothesley had declared that if he had to read one more thing [even if it was onlt a recipe] he would probably lose his mind. Sigewinne talked the entire time. About school. About a drawing she made. About how someone in her class thought sharks were mammals and she had to correct them.
Wriothesley choked on his drink. “Wait—seriously?”
“Yes!!” He looked at Neuvillette. “There’s hope for the next generation after all.”
Neuvillette sipped his water. “Let us not celebrate prematurely.” Sigewinne beamed, clearly proud of herself.
“Can we do something together after this?” she asked, swinging her legs under the chair. “Please?” Wriothesley leaned back, already feeling the weight of the day catching up to him.
“I don’t know, kiddo, Daddy’s kinda—”
“Yes,” Neuvillette said at the same time, setting his cup down.
Wriothesley blinked.
“…You said yes?”
Sigewinne gasped. “Papa said yes!!” Neuvillette paused, then inclined his head slightly.
“…I believe it would be beneficial.”
“To who?” Wriothesley asked. Neuvillette met his eyes.
“…All of us.” Wriothesley stared at him for a second. Then he sighed, but there was no real resistance behind it.
“…Yeah, alright.” Sigewinne cheered as if they had just agreed to get her a new puppy the next day. They ended up in the living room where Sigewinne had built a blanket fort with Navia while they waited for Neuvillette and Wriothesley to return. Now the three of them were crammed inside, surrounded by soft blankets and dim, warm light from a small lamp.
“Okay,” Sigewinne said, settling between them. “Movie time.”
“What are we watching?” Wriothesley asked. She held up a remote triumphantly.
“Something *not* about crime,” Neuvillette added.
“…Coward,” Wriothesley muttered.
“I would simply prefer not to analyze inaccuracies in legal procedure at this hour.”
“That’s half the fun.”
“It is not.” Sigewinne pressed play before they could argue further. The movie started. It was something soft. Animated. Bright colors, simple story. Neither of them had the energy to question it.
About twenty minutes in, Wriothesley’s head tipped back against the couch. Another ten, and his arm had draped lazily around Sigewinne without him even noticing. Neuvillette lasted longer. He sat upright, watching the screen with quiet attentiveness… until his blinking slowed. Then his shoulders eased. Then, gradually, his posture softened just enough. Sigewinne looked between them. Her voice dropped to a whisper, like she was sharing a secret with the universe.
“They’re sleepy…” She snuggled closer. Wriothesley’s hand shifted slightly, instinctively pulling her in. Neuvillette’s head tilted just enough that it rested lightly against Wriothesley’s shoulder; neither of them woke. The movie kept playing, soft music, gentle voices, light flickering across three quiet faces. Sigewinne yawned.
“…Okay,” she mumbled. “Me too…” She curled up between them, one small hand clutching the fabric of Neuvillette’s sleeve. The blanket fort held steady around them, a tiny world cut off from deadlines and grading and the general chaos of work and school. Inside, there was only warmth, and the slow, steady quiet of people who, for once, didn’t have to think.
***
Hours later, the movie had long since ended. The screen had gone dark, and the house was still. Wriothesley stirred first, just barely. He blinked, disoriented, then glanced down. Sigewinne, fast asleep. Neuvillette, leaning against him, both of them seemed peaceful and calm. He huffed a quiet laugh.
“…We really did just pass out, huh.” No response. He shifted slightly, careful not to wake them. Carefully, he pulled one of the blankets over the three of them and kissed both of their heads softly before drifting back to sleep. He would probably hate himself in the morning, since his back would probably end up killing him, but that's fine. He'll just call off class tomorrow.