The soft light of morning filtered into the dining area as Y/N set out plates on the table, his movements deliberate but a little clumsy from having to manage with one arm in a cast. Octavia stood nearby, holding Orion close to her chest, the infant cooing softly as he observed the world with wide, curious eyes.

Octavia adjusted Orion in her arms, her gaze flicking to Y/N with a small, tired smile. "Need help with that?" she asked softly, nodding toward the plates.

"I'm okay," Y/N murmured shyly, still focused on placing the utensils neatly. "Just...trying to get it right." He shifted nervously under her gaze, his fingers tapping the edge of a glass in his habitual rhythm.

Orion, meanwhile, blinked up at Octavia, his small hands clutching at her blouse. His tiny mind didn't grasp much, but he felt the warmth and security of being held. He glanced at Y/N with a gurgling coo, instinctively recognizing the familiar figure who always spoke to him in soft tones and carried him so carefully. 'Papa looks busy,' his small brain seemed to think. 'Why is he moving so much? Where's the milk lady? Where's the fuzzy lady? Or the jingling keys?'

His eyes caught sight of the food on the table, though he didn't fully understand what it was for just yet. His tiny nose wrinkled, catching faint scents wafting from the kitchen. 'Smells funny,' he thought. 'Not like Mommy or Papa. But kinda okay?' He yawned, his small fist finding its way into his mouth for a moment as he looked back up at Octavia, a quiet reassurance flooding his little mind. 'Mommy's warm... This is nice. But hungry!'

*"You're doing great," Octavia encouraged Y/N as she swayed gently to keep Orion calm. Orion cooed louder in her arms, making her chuckle softly. "I think someone agrees."

Y/N glanced at them both, his shy smile growing as his tapping fingers stilled for a moment. "Thank you." He paused. "Should I grab the bottle after we eat?"

*"Yeah," Octavia said with a nod, smiling down at Orion as he let out a soft burble. "I think he might have a little more to say about that."

The tiny boy's eyes brightened slightly, his thoughts narrowing to one joyful certainty. 'Milk time soon!'

Octavia smiled as she gently laid Orion down into his playpen, giving his little nose a soft kiss before stepping away. She set a colorful teething ring next to him, but Orion's wide, curious eyes followed her every move. His tiny mind churned with confusion as he watched her walk back to the table with Y/N.

"Mommy?" Orion's thoughts seemed to echo in his little head as he picked up the teething ring and gave it a half-hearted nibble. "Why'd you put me back in the tiny prison? The chewy things are nice, but still! Tiny prison!"

He squirmed slightly, peering through the bars of the playpen as Octavia sat down beside Y/N and picked up her fork. His sharp baby eyes caught sight of something on her plate—bright, golden, and fluffy. She stuck it in her mouth, chewing and smiling at Y/N as they spoke softly.

"Wait..." Orion's thoughts grew more perplexed. "What's that yellow thing? Papa called it...potato? Why is it in your mouth, Mommy? Why do you like it more than the milk? Milk is better!"

He let out a small, curious babble and reached his tiny arms through the playpen bars as though that would get their attention.

"You don't need the yellow thing!" he insisted in his baby mind. "I don't get a yellow thing! Why not?"

Octavia turned briefly to look at him, smiling warmly, which made Orion's little heart jump happily. For now, at least, he was willing to forgive her. "Maybe if I squeak enough later, she'll come back," he thought with determination, gripping his teething ring like it was a mighty weapon.