"No." It came out faster than he intended, and he heard it, and he softened it.
"No, sweetheart. Don't call Mummy. We're fine. I'll talk to Mummy later, okay? I just…" He paused. Searched for something that was true and also manageable.
"I've been having a hard few days. But I'm okay. And I'm going to make you dinner." He managed a version of a partial, imperfect smile, the smile of a man using the available materials.
"What do you want? Tell me, and I'll make it." Seren considered this with the gravity she brought to all decisions.
"Pasta," she said. "With the sauce from the jar because yours is better than from scratch and you always pretend it isn't."
Something crossed his face that was not quite a smile and not quite a sob and lived precisely in the territory between them.
"Go change your uniform," he said.
She went.
Sebastian stood in the kitchen for a moment before he moved.
