Slightly wincing at the sharp feeling of the wide toothed comb currently running through her hair, your daughter sat criss-crossed on the carpeted floor of your shared home as Yuuta sat behind her, attempting to do her hair.
“Sorry angel, you okay? I’m almost done with this section, I promise.” Rubbing her shoulder in an act of reassurance, she gave him a small nod as her eyes shifted back to the children’s show playing on the TV. He’d never been more thankful for “Doc McStuffins” in his life.
