Ian's voice echoed off the walls, filling the space with a sense of urgency.

"Oliver! Come on, we're running late!"

Oliver moved like a whirlwind, his bare feet sliding across the polished wooden floor as he dressed hurriedly. His eyes frantically scanned the familiar room, searching for the car keys that seemed to have vanished amid the organized chaos. He didn't want an official vehicle to take them — not that night.

He wanted it to be just the two of them, without all the pomp and security that usually accompanied them. Thomas's Battersea was so close, just a few minutes' drive away, and he longed for that moment of normalcy.

In the past two years, Lily had traded her fencing swords for the spotlight of the theater — a transition that brought relief to Ian. That night, they would watch her debut on stage, a moment awaited with a mix of pride and excitement. The Christmas performance would unfold under the cold curtain of London winter.

Hastily slipping into his thick wool coat, Oliver felt the rough, heavy fabric brush against his skin. His leather gloves, marked by frequent use, slid easily over his fingers as he wrapped the heavy cashmere scarf around his neck, feeling its comforting warmth envelop him like a hug.

Ian waited impatiently at the door, his slender, elegant silhouette clad in an oversized dark coat and a fluffy light beige sweater. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold, but his brown eyes sparkled with anticipation and enthusiasm. It was always amusing how their perceptions of temperature were so different — for Oliver, England's biting cold was penetrating, while Ian seemed perfectly comfortable, almost as if he were still in the mild climate of California.

"Alright, let's go," Oliver exhaled as he passed by Ian, his breath forming small clouds of vapor in the cold air as he hurried through the ornate corridors of the Castle.

Their steps echoed through the empty hallways, the sound reverberating off the ancient stone walls until they reached the exit. The black, sleek car awaited them near the imposing wrought iron gate, and Ian took the lead, as always, settling comfortably in the driver's seat.

As Ian drove through the busy streets of London, Oliver's mind wandered through the events of the past years.

Since Sofia moved to Kensington, they shared custody of Lily — she spent most of the week with her mother, while Oliver's weekends were entirely dedicated to his little princess.

The friendly relationship allowed for exceptions and flexibility, making everything easier.

Things were quite good most of the time. Oliver strived to balance his public and private life, relying on Ian and Catherine's unwavering support.

Finally, people had stopped trying to interfere in his personal life.

Ian, on the other hand, was increasingly involved in politics, though behind the scenes, since the exposure of his relationship with Oliver didn't leave a good impression on his influence in Parliament. Still, he earned respect and admiration from advisers with his sharp intelligence and strategic skill.

They were stronger than ever.

During the quick drive, the familiar melodies of a classic rock tune softly filled the car's space. Watching through the window, Oliver's eyes followed the hesitant descent of the snowflakes, giving the city a dreamy white veil. The cold air outside slightly misted the glass, drawing whimsical patterns of ice crystals.

"Are you okay?" Ian's voice broke Oliver's thoughts, his brown eyes watching him with concern.

"Sure," Oliver replied, his voice hesitant, betraying his attempt to sound carefree. But Ian knew him too well to be deceived.

"Oliver" Ian's tone was a gentle reprimand, like a warm blanket around his restlessness. Oliver looked up to meet Ian's gaze, feeling his persistent stare. "Come on, you don't have to lie, do you?"

"It's just..." Oliver's voice faltered, the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard before continuing, a needless sadness tinging each syllable. "She's growing up, Ian."

A smile spread across Ian's lips, that charming smile with furrowed brows and pressed lips, as if holding back a laugh. "Darling, she's six years old," he stated, his voice soft as velvet, while he took his hand off the wheel to gently squeeze Oliver's knee, his warm touch penetrating through the fabric of his pants. "She will be a child for a long time still."

"She's completely independent," Oliver complained, sighing loudly in the confined space of the car. He looked at Ian with a pleading expression, his eyes begging for understanding. "She picks her own clothes, her own extracurricular activities, learns her lines on her own. And what if she chooses not to come stay with me anymore?"

"Ollie, that's completely impossible, the girl idolizes you," Ian argued, his voice firm and reassuring, as if Oliver had said the biggest nonsense in the world — and in the end, it was indeed an unfounded insecurity. "Besides, even if she stops loving you, she still has me, remember? She can't live without Uncle Ian." Oliver rolled his eyes dramatically, turning to Ian with a bored expression, which provoked Ian's warm smile. "Relax, she's not going anywhere."

"Alright," Oliver agreed, choosing not to insist on the subject as they were already approaching the school entrance. The sound of children's laughter and lively conversations filled the fresh air, with several cars already parked around. They took a while to find a spot, the slippery asphalt under the tires. Once parked, they hurried towards the amphitheater, their steps echoing on the sidewalk covered by a thin layer of soft snow. A soft melody floated in the air, growing with every step they took, wrapping them in its captivating tune.

The place was packed. Parents, relatives, and friends filled almost all the seats, chatting animatedly. Ian checked the tickets in his hands, looking for their seats, while Oliver walked with his head down, avoiding curious stares that might recognize him and distract from the play.

Finally, they found their privileged seats, right in front of the stage, next to Sofia. She looked at them with relief as they settled in.

"Finally! Where were you?" She whispered, alternating her gaze between Oliver and Ian.

"You know Oliver, he has no sense of time," Ian replied in the same tone, a playful smile on his lips.

Oliver looked at him, shocked by the betrayal. "You know very well I was in a—"

But Sofia interrupted him before he could finish. 

"Silence, both of you. It's about to start." Her reprimanding tone provoked a discreet laugh from Ian and a shocked look from Oliver.

Anyway, they both fell silent.

As their eyes turned to the stage, the curtains slowly opened, revealing Lily in the center, radiant in her fairy costume. The emerald-green dress shimmered under the bright lights, and the perfectly arranged bun on top of her head completed her Tinkerbell portrayal.

It was a charming sight, instantly warming Oliver's heart.

Lily spotted them in the audience and waved cheerfully in their direction, her smile brightening the amphitheater even more. Ian, as the proud uncle, quickly took his phone out of his pocket and began filming the performance, capturing every moment.

An indescribable emotion took over Oliver, a mix of pride, love, and nostalgia. Looking to the side at Sofia, he noticed tears shining in her eyes, reflecting the same feelings he was experiencing.

Ian leaned over Oliver's shoulder and whispered, "So, is this the infamous canonical event for parents of school-aged children?" His playful tone drew challenging looks from Sofia and Oliver. He chuckled again, keeping his phone at the ready as he shrugged. "Alright, alright, tough crowd. Geez!"

The performance was a bold adaptation of Peter Pan, transported to a Christmas setting in a crossover with The Polar Express and Santa Claus himself. 

Despite the unusual narrative, there was a unique grace and charm in the children's acting. They were well-rehearsed, but the most memorable moments were when one of them flubbed a line or was too shy to enter the stage. It was a typical children's production, with no pressure and no grand ambitions, where everyone was there to have fun and do their best. What could have been chaos turned into an adorable performance, full of naturalness and authenticity.

Oliver extended his hand over Ian's leg, inviting him to intertwine their fingers.

While he absentmindedly played with the ring on Ian's finger, spinning it back and forth, his gaze remained fixed on the stage. Lily had few lines, but her presence was striking. She gracefully twirled around the surprisingly realistic tree sculptures, and every minute, she threw smiles their way that could melt his heart.

In that moment, Oliver realized how everything seemed both ordinary and special. For a moment, he felt like any other parent there, witnessing their children dedicate themselves to something so positive for their artistic expression. Though Lily had been immersed in the world of literature since birth and knew the story of Peter Pan by heart, the unexpected plot of the Lost Boys meeting Santa Claus and his reindeer was a great surprise.

When the play ended, Lily came down the side of the stage and ran to them, radiant with joy.

"Did I do well?" She asked, a mix of apprehension and excitement in her voice.

The three of them, in perfect harmony, showered Lily with proud words, praising her performance and the creative script.

As they left the amphitheater, their steps sinking into the thin layer of snow covering the sidewalk, leaving behind ephemeral footprints, the cold night air kissed their faces, bringing with it the freshness of newly fallen snow. Sofia turned to Oliver, her breath visibly dancing in the space between them. 

"Can you take her home tonight?" she asked, her blue eyes shining under the soft light of the street lamps. A hint of hesitation permeated her voice as she continued, "I have a birthday dinner to attend."

Given her hesitant justification and the subtle avoidance of eye contact, Oliver raised an eyebrow, a suggestive smile on his lips. 

"New boyfriend?" he asked casually, his tone laden with playful curiosity.

Sofia laughed softly. 

"Just a friend," she replied, shrugging indifferently. However, when her gaze met Oliver's again, he noticed a slight blush coloring her cheeks, like rose petals blooming in the snow, revealing more than her words let on.

"I know that tone," Oliver teased, letting his laughter mix with Sofia's in a familiarity they had shared for years. "I'm happy for you."

It was comforting to see Sofia allowing herself to explore new relationships, and he sincerely wished her happiness, hoping she would find someone who gave her the same warmth he felt beside Ian.

His gaze turned to Ian, who was a little ahead, guiding Lily by the hand as they chatted animatedly. Their radiant smiles and vibrant energy left Oliver enchanted. Lily's laughter was contagious and pure, while Ian gestured enthusiastically, probably telling one of his invented stories. After a brief contemplative silence, Oliver noticed Sofia watching them too, a tender glow in her eyes.

"He's great with her, isn't he?" Sofia commented, her voice full of reverence and gratitude, as if witnessing a miracle unfolding before her eyes.

"I almost think she likes him more than me," Oliver joked, a proud smile spreading across his face as he witnessed the special bond between Ian and Lily.

"That's impossible," Sofia promptly retorted, and Oliver found it amusing to hear the same phrase for the second time that night, "but he's pretty close," she added, acknowledging the undeniable connection between them.

"Definitely close," Oliver agreed, his heart overflowing with love as he watched Ian pause for a moment to remove the wings from Lily's back and begin carrying them along with the silver wand in his free hand.

"Lucky little girl," Sofia said, her gaze meeting Oliver's with a serene smile, like the gentle warmth of a candle on a dark night. "I'm grateful for how you both take care of her. You know he didn't have to."

"She means everything to me," Oliver declared, with a raw honesty Sofia knew well. "And to Ian, by extension."

"That's wonderful," Sofia replied, before being interrupted by the wave of her driver, calling her attention.

Lily ran to Sofia, hugging her tightly around the legs. "Are we leaving now?" she asked, an adorable pout forming on her lips painted in a delicate bright pink. "Uncle Ian promised me ice cream."

"Ice cream? In the middle of winter?" Sofia raised an eyebrow, casting a questioning look at Ian, who merely shrugged and responded with a mischievous smile typical of a child about to cause trouble. Sofia decided not to argue, turning to Lily with an understanding smile. "You're going home with daddy tonight, remember?"

Lily's smile brightened, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm. 

"So I can go have ice cream?"

"Don't overdo it," Sofia warned, her tone maternal but affectionate. Oliver just winked at Lily before she ran back to where Ian was, a few steps ahead, her feet barely touching the ground in her excitement. "See you on Monday."

After a brief farewell to Sofia, Ian and Lily slowly walked towards Oliver, visibly planning a tease, which didn't take long to come:

"I bet your dad is so slow he can't catch us at the ice cream shop," Ian said. His wide smile, with deep dimples, was evidence of his playful soul.

His eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam, reflecting the vibrant lights illuminating the street.

"You're a great influence on a child," Oliver responded, his smile widening involuntarily as Ian laughed in response, the vibrant and contagious sound echoing through Oliver's body.

"Let's go, Tinkerbell," Ian called, kneeling to make it easier for Lily to climb onto his shoulders, which she did immediately upon hearing the playful challenge: "Hop on, let's show him."

Before Oliver could argue, Ian held the little girl's legs and pretended to trot along the sidewalk, barely moving from the spot. Lily laughed audibly, the crystalline sound of her joy like wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. She precariously held onto Ian's forehead, her little fingers tangled in his soft curls.

Naturally, they arrived at Ian's favorite ice cream shop before Oliver, and he watched as the colorful lights bathed the duo, creating a charming visual spectacle: a tall man with a little fairy on his back. It was the most improbable scene he had ever seen and, in a way, it couldn't be more perfect. The bell on the door jingled cheerfully as they entered, announcing their arrival. With light steps and smiles on their lips, Ian and Lily approached the counter.

Oliver watched from a short distance as Ian carefully placed Lily on the ground, his movements gentle and protective.

Lily's voice rang out with excitement as she exclaimed: "I want the unicorn cone!" Her eyes sparkled with joy.

Ian laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Whatever you want, princess." 

As they chose their flavors, they engaged in a playful duel with chocolate straws as swords — needless to say, Ian let Lily win.

As Oliver watched the scene unfold before him, the fog of insecurity that had enveloped him earlier dissipated, as if the radiant glow of happiness had swept away the shadows. 

Now, an unwavering certainty took hold of him, the conviction that everything was exactly as it should be.

Oh, it was right about time.