the baffled king composing hallelujah
"Oh I will," Ronin assures him, his expression warming considerably as Jata looks less like a deer in headlights, even if it's just for a second or two. Letting the subject go so they can better concentrate on Mateo, the Star can't help but grin as he watches the infant clutch at the Flood's clothes and kick tiny feet in his blanket. "Alright, if you're sure. As babysitters go though, you're doing a pretty great job." He nudges him (very gently, of course, not to jostle the child).
Mateo seems content for the time being at least, cooing and drooling and doing all the usual baby stuff designed to melt hearts and make grown adults want one of their very own. It has already hooked Ronin, of course, given that he's his son, and the expression on the Star's face says as much. "Y'know, even with the screaming panic in you right now, I think you'd make a good father," he says.
Mateo seems content for the time being at least, cooing and drooling and doing all the usual baby stuff designed to melt hearts and make grown adults want one of their very own. It has already hooked Ronin, of course, given that he's his son, and the expression on the Star's face says as much. "Y'know, even with the screaming panic in you right now, I think you'd make a good father," he says.
