the baffled king composing hallelujah
"Yes, I do," Ronin says sunnily, meeting his friend's gaze with complete trust. "Put it this way, Jata - it's one thing not to know what to do with babies. But this isn't a baby. This is my son, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that he's safe with you." Something else stirs on the tip of his tongue, something he wants to say but that he really ought to discuss with Remi first, so he keeps it to himself.
Mateo, gurgling his merry way into wakefulness and becoming thoroughly entranced by the fabric of Sunjata's shirt, is none the wiser to this conversation. He'd probably agree though, Ronin thinks. "Fifteen years is a long time. You've changed a lot since then. Even if you don't decide to become a father, I'd say you can at least hold your own around kids. Look at him, he barely notices I'm gone." He scoffs, like he's offended (he isn't).
Mateo, gurgling his merry way into wakefulness and becoming thoroughly entranced by the fabric of Sunjata's shirt, is none the wiser to this conversation. He'd probably agree though, Ronin thinks. "Fifteen years is a long time. You've changed a lot since then. Even if you don't decide to become a father, I'd say you can at least hold your own around kids. Look at him, he barely notices I'm gone." He scoffs, like he's offended (he isn't).
