"Hurts." Mimi sticks out her bottom lip, her big eyes turning up to you imploringly. You tut and kneel down to the level of her knee where it hands off the table the little girl sits on. Mimi looks like she should be perfectly cheery: her pigtails are springy, with bright pink scrunchies, and her jean romper has a few grass stains on it. 

The pout looks cutely out of place on her chubby, flushed cheeks. You always liked dealing with the kindergartners best, despite what other school nurses said. Kindergartners told you when it hurt and when it didn't, and usually they could be appeased with a lollipop and a band-aid. 

As you inspect her knee, you realize it's going to be bruised pretty bad—the girl probably shouldn't be running around like she usually did for a day or so. You sigh and shuffle in your filing cabinet for the number of her mother. You're suprised when the file for her emergency contact says Father: Oh Sehun and then a phone number.

You dial it and explain clearly what happened; you're used to parents freaking out over relatively minor injuries. It's important Mimi's father understands that it's okay, because you've been watching her: she loves to run around and she's naturally gifted at soccer. 

Mimi's father's voice sounds deep and young on the other side of the line, but you make nothing of it. You know he drives a BMW from when he picks her up from soccer practice—he's there every practice, right when it's over. Mimi's eyes light up when she sees the car and she runs faster toward it than she does after the soccer ball—which is fast.

You sit Mimi on your lap while you wait and take out a picture book to keep the girl busy until her father arrives: he'd assured her he was on his way, his tone curt and hurried. Nervous.

You get through one whole Frog and Toad and start in on Duck for President when you hear footsteps at the front of your office and then a man rushes in on a gust of air. When he sees you with Mimi in your lap, he stops short and stares, his jaw falling a little slack. You're staring too, because this, this man is nothing like most of the dads. Usually they have big beer bellies and scratchy beards. Usually, though, they had a wife with them. 

Mr. Oh has a sculpted, smooth face with piercing honey eyes. His suit is perfectly tailored to accentuate his narrow waist. A big watch encircles his wrist and veins stick out on the backs of his hands. 

It's Mimi who breaks the silence, squealing and jumping down from your lap to run over to Mr. Oh. "Daddy!" she squeals, wrapping her chubby arms around Mr. Oh. He blinks and looks down, chuckling and reaching down to easily pick her up and hold her on his hip.

"What's up, baby?" he asks, his voice some combination of gentle and playful. His attention, a moment ago totally focused on you, is now completely on Mimi, adjusting her bangs so they hang straight across her forehead, pulling her romper down so it covers her , and finally caressing her knee to inspect the scrape.

"Did you get in a fight, sweetheart? I don't care how little they are, they better watch out when daddy comes." He smiled and touched their noses together,

Mimi giggled. "No, daddy, of course not! I tripped and got a boo-boo. Daddy, you have to kiss it for it to be better! Nurse said if she kisses it, it will be better, but if you kiss it it will feel better." She stuck her knee out towards him but accidentally kneed him in the forehead because he was already reaching down. 

Mr. Oh let out a suprised laugh and then gripped her knee, giving it a firm kiss, and then another, and then, because Mimi was laughing and squirming, he kissed her cheek, then her forehead, then her bellybutton until she was a giggling mess.

You watch the whole exchange quietly, rising from your seat but not interfering. When Mimi is finally quieted down, Sehun lowers her to the floow, crouching so he's still eye level with her. "So whaddaya think? Stay at school or come home with me?"

"Boo-boo cupcakes!" Mimi practically screeched. "I'll go get my backpack okay, don't move." She wagged her finger at him seriously, then flitted out the door at full speed like everything you'd just told her about not running had gone in one ear and out the other.

Mr. Oh just chuckles again and stands to his full towering height again. You raise an eyebrow. "Boo-boo cupcakes?" you ask.

He shrugs. "I don't want her to associate getting hurt with feeling icky. Plus it's an excuse to bake her cupcakes, not that I need an excuse, but still." He grins.

You cross your arms. "Mr.Oh, I have to caution against rewarding your child for hurting yourself. What if she starts getting hurt on purpose because she knows she'll get cupcakes?"

Mr. Oh waves a hand. "Oh, she's smarter than you give her credit for. She's got plenty of other ways to get me to get her sweets." He leans in towards you like he's imparting a secret. "But she also knows that I feed her just as many veggies as sweets. And neither of us want her stomach to burst at the seams."

You giggle and he smiles triumphantly, sticking out his hand. "I don't believe we've met. Oh Sehun. Probably the only single working parent in the school." You take his hand and tell him your name. "Pleasure to meet you. My pleasure. You know, she must like you because just last night she told me she was absolutely never reading a picture book ever again." 

His hands were in his pockets and his eyes roamed your face unsettlingly. Most people didn't study your face like they were trying to memorize it the first time you met. You huff. "I'd like to see her try to go cold turkey on picture books. She loves them so much she'll be writing them when she grows up."

"Apparently, she's a big girl so she can read grown up books." Sehun shrugged. "I figure it's good for them to hear as many words as they can from zero to five years old, and this is the limit, so I'll stuff some Harry Potter between her ears before she changes her mind again."

"Smart," you reply, "Always start with Harry Potter. Enjoy having a sassy Hermione on your hands."

"It's better than Eloise," Sehun muttered, sticking his head out into the hall like he was worried because Mimi hadn't returned in the space of a minute or two. When your brows draw together, his mouth drops open. "You don't know Eloise? Chongmaul," he breathes in Korean, "I swear I'm the only parent alive that still has a VCR player."

"You have a VCR player?"

"Yeah."

"That's so cute!" You clap your hand over your mouth when you realize how stupid that sounded, but he just laughs, suprised. "Thank you? Honestly it's a plague, it's this movie about this absolute brat who runs around a hotel like she owns it and ruins a lot of people's days. Now if Mimi did it it would be different—everyone would forgive her because she's too cute. But I'd rather she grow up a lady and not a vagabond."

"The best ladies are vagabonds in hiding," you reply, raising an eyebrow.

Sehun looks at you a moment, suprised. "Are you sure you're not a poet in hiding? As a school nurse? Wait," he shakes his head. "No, of course not. You clearly love kids too much."

You laugh and nod. "You too. Mimi can't get enough of you. Usually the moms that pick these kids up tow them away with those little child leash things." You try to gesture what you mean, but he seems to understand exactly. 

"Well, I think those are stupid and I'm certainly not a mom," he replies. "But I try. She probably should have a mom." His shoulders slump. "Going to school has been a blessing. I'd love to spend all day with that little angel, but work is—"

"READY, DADDY!" comes a screech from the doorway, and Sehun is suddenly jerked down by a small hand and dragged towards the door. His eyes dart back to you and he a smile, giving you a little wave. "Bye, Nurse!" he calls, his voice echoing in the hallway as tiny feet lead him towards the light of the outside.

You lean against the doorway and watch Sehun strap Mimi carefully into her carseat before circling around to the front of the car. It's only after a solid minute has passed that you realize you've been staring at the empty road, shaking your head and going back into your office.

That night, you appear in Sehun's dreams, dressed in that same nurse uniform, but instead of your office, you're at home with him, sitting on the carpet of the living room. The fire crackles before a babygate, even though Mimi's old enough now to know that fire burns. You're playing patty-cake with her, your face bright. Mimi's face looks so contented that Sehun smiles in his sleep.

Dreams have a tendency to move like montages: one moment you're in the living room, the next you're in Mimi's bedroom, sitting next to each other, taking turns kissing her goodnight. Next the two of you are in the kitchen, having a flour fight. There's flour in his hair and all over your face and you're both laughing but also trying to be quiet so you don't wake the child up.

Finally Sehun wins by wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and kissing you against the sink. You kiss for a second but then you splash him with water and he slaps your , urging you towards the bedroom, staying back to clean up while you take a shower.

When Sehun wakes up that morning, his sheets are twisted around him and for half a second he expects someone to be there next to him. That fleeting disappointment mixed with happiness clings to him as he rises to go wake Mimi up for school, his voice gentle and scratchy as he gently singsongs her name, opening the shades just the right amount so her eyes aren't hurt.

He's suprised when you follow him into real life. "Nurse said not to take the bus today Daddy. Can I ride in your car?"

"She said that?" he repeated stupidly, and got the sassy, annoyed expression he deserved. "Hmm. Maybe she didn't want you stumbling on those steep bus steps. Sure, sweetheart, I'll take you to school. I've got to go get ready for work, do you want to watch a show?"

Mimi's mouth dropped open. Daddy never let her watch TV, but she loved Dragon Tales, so after her initial shock Sehun left her enraptured in front of the TV and ran to go get ready as fast as he could. He debates between taking the time to look good and getting to school in time, eventually choosing school on time with one last regretful look in the mirror. It is, after all, the second time he'd see you.

He knew it would be weird to walk up to you and say, "I had a dream about us and you were my wife and it was the most perfect thing I could ever imagine and I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you," so he had to do it with his eyes. Chanyeol told him he had quite the smolder. He thought Mimi's wide eyes were probably much more alluring.

When the BMW pulled up you were already outside, pretending to look for a kid you knew would be out today due to a fever. It didn't hurt to keep a lookout in any case—parents could be crazier than you gave them credit for. They'd send their kids to school near death, convincing themselves that once the kid got to school it was up to the school (insert: you) to look out for them,

Today his suit was dark, dusted grey and his tie was black. His hair wasn't slicked back like it had been yesterday, the blonde looking soft and inviting. His face lights up when he sees you in front of the school and he practically floats around the car, revealing his precious bundle and unbuckling her, popping the trunk for her to grab her backpack.

"Mimi!" you hear him call as Mimi's already on her way towards you. She whirls back around like his voice is some kind of siren's call or dog whistle. "Lunch! Don't want my baby getting hungry!" He waves a cute hello kitty lunch box in the air and Mimi slams into him in her rush to snatch it. Sehun laughs and holds her head to his body, giving it a firm kiss before letting her go again, following her at his own leisurely pace. 

"Good morning," he intones when he draws close enough. It's what anyone would say; there isn't anything special about the actual words good morning. But the glint in his eyes and the inflection with which he says it has you weak in the knees like he's confessed his undying love to you.

"Good morning, Mr. Oh," you reply, trying to smile around your nerves. 

Sehun his lips: your voice is mesmerizing and he thinks he'll never get enough of it. "It's a lovely morning."

"Why so lovely?"

"Well, for one, I had to drive my daughter to school. Apparently it was dangerous for her to take the bus."

You'd thought it was a good idea at the time. Part of you remembered that time Mimi had rocketed off the bus so fast she faceplanted, but part of you had just wanted to see him again. But now you just felt guilty—the man clearly had work to get to.

"I'm sorry. It probably would have been fine, honestly, Sehun—"

"Don't worry," he interrupts. You notice he's standing a little closer than the cultural norm, but not so near that you feel he's crowding your personal space. Not so so close as you'd like. "I remember when she faceplanted once when she was getting off the bus and I happened to be home. That was when she still had a nanny," he added. "Kindergarten, you know." He sighed. "She's a big girl."

You recall that Mimi spends most days at school in their afterschool program that's only offered to grade schoolers. But judging by the way Sehun dreses and the car he drives and the high-end things Mimi always shows up to school in, he's not poor. He could afford it if he wanted. Of course, your mouth has no filter, so your questions just pop right out.

"Why don't you just keep a nanny on? You seem like you have enough on your plate as it is, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I don't mind. I don't mind at all," he says emphatically, looking at you with that strange expression again. Then: "I want to be there, as a father. I don't see any point in working your whole life just to grow up and realize you never enjoyed any of it. I know, I know, I'm the sappiest, most romantic guy you've ever met. Just wait till you get me in the car." he winks. "I have pain in the roadrage."

"Nurse!" A call comes from inside and you turn to see your intern, a nice young girl in her first year of medical school, calling to her from the nurse's office. You wave to her and turn back to Sehun, who's put sunglasses on; the sun is piercing and it's only early morning. You silently thank the fact that there's air conditioning in your office.

"I'm keeping you," Sehun says, frowning. He's torn between not caring—between grabbing your arm and taking you to a rooftop somewhere and romancing you until you can't think straight—and turning and running away as fast as he can. After all, he really does have enough on his plate.

"Not at all," you say quietly, even though he is. You sway towards each other like an invisible force pulls you together. Finally, Sehun steels himself.

"Come out with me," he says quietly. "Look, I could ask Mimi to hurt yourself so I can come to the heroic rescue again, but I'm not sure that would be fair to her. There's a great restaurant on the north of town I'm sure you'll like. Come out with me Saturday—Mimi's having a sleepover."

"How do you know I'll like it?" you ask, your hear pounding. You're trying to get over the fact that he just asked you out, and so directly. It made your knees weak.

"I don't know," he mused, his hand going to his chin and a smile playing on his lips. "I just do. Shall I keep guessing things? We've gotta keep some mystery."

Like that, it had been decided, without you even saying yes. It would happen. "Try me." You raise an eyebrow.

That eyebrow is never going to leave me alone, Sehun thought, and it felt like a prediction. He knew that that raised eyebrow as a companion would satisfy him for the rest of his life. So he studied it, and hoped you didn't notice. "You like to play pool. You like watching movies in the complete darkness. You like ice cream with your pie."

He fired off facts about you like he'd read a fact sheet, but you stopped him at the third thing. "I think maybe we should wait until Saturday," you say, trying not to laugh and also trying not to kiss him. "Or you'll run out of things to discover you already know about me."

Delight shot through Sehun's face and he grinned, the corners of his eyes bunching up. "Perfect," he said, squeezing your arm giddily. "I'll see you Saturday, then. I'm afraid I can't afford to take any more time of work."

You bid goodbye and then find yourself again looking at empty road long after Sehun's car has pulled away. You find yourself watching Mimi more throughout the course of the week, watching the novel ways she looked at things, admiring her boundless energy. You notice the ease and confidence she gets from her father. They have the same nose. 

"Babe, if you think Mimi doesn't know daddy and nurse are dating, you're deluding yourself." Sehun smiles, relaxed, his arm circled around your waist as you look out at the ocean. Three months later, Sehun says he loves you every morning and every night, just like he does with Mimi. You've grown closer with the girl, and grown fiercely attached to her, more so than you ever thought you could with a child.

Now that you know him so well, you see him in everything Mimi does. Sehun's thumb makes circles against your arm idly as you chat. Soon, you'll have to return to the city; Sehun doesn't like leaving Mimi alone for too long, even though they both know she's having the time of her life with her best friend Emily.

But for now, you cling to the sunset and the gentle, constant crash of waves, and the calm, fresh scent of the ocean. "Oh, I guess she knows. But I don't want her to feel like we're lying to her."

"We're not. We'll tell her when we get home," Sehun assures you. You look up at him, suprised. Sehun has never been this open. He's always wanted to keep Mimi's life as constant as it can be.

"Are you sure?"

"Despite having you tell me that I'm all she needs, honey, every day, I think what she wants is you. I mean, if she's anything like me, of course," Sehun adds, kissing your temple obsessively. You giggle. "If she's anything like me," he says quietly, his voice filtering on warm breath into your ear, "She fell in love the moment she saw you. I know I did."

"Really?" you ask, reaching your mind back to think of the first time you met. "I would have thought you'd be too cynical for love at first sight. Especially at an advertising agency."

"Do you not believe me?" he asks, raising his eyebrows. He gets up from the bench and kneels before you so you are looking down into those soft, honey eyes that you've allowed yourself to get so lost in the past three months. "I'll lay it out for you," he says softly, his voice carried on ocean's wings, his skin golden in the light. You catch your breath; has he always been so beautiful?

"The first time you met, you were sitting in a rocking chair, and I thought it was cute because you were sitting cross-legged with Mimi in your lap. There was a window to your right and my left, and the sun was filtering through it and I swear your skin glowed, love. Your voice sounded like bells, better than any song I've ever heard—and I'd read the damn book a thousand times!" You smile, blushing, looking away but drawn immediately back. His thumb is circling the top of your hand lovingly, and he brings your hand to his lips, taking in your smell like it fuels him.

"It took a Mimi in the leg to snap me out of it, but now I know. And our first date—do you remember?" he asked, and you both smile. "I got us lost trying to find the restaurant, so we ended up on a golf course, and we ate hamburgers and ran around under the sprinklers in the dark and then dried off and went inside and you beat me at pool."

"You were a little drunk," you allow him. "Don't feel too bad. You beat me regularly now."

He shakes his head. "It didn't matter to you. You have this beautiful, pure spirit of a child that also draws you to them. You're the kindest person I've ever met in my life. I remember our first fight," he recalls, "you insisted that my work couldn't possibly want me to come in when it was my daughter's birthday. When I insisted they didn't, you marched right into my office and convinced my partner that there was a young girl who'd be in a serious bit of trouble if I didn't get my out of there."

"What can I say," You reply, blushing. "I can be very persuasive if I want to. Especially when something I love is in play. When two things I love are in play..." you grin at him stupidly.

"Did you know," he says softly, "That the night after we met, I had a dream of you and me and Mimi hanging out on the carpet in my living room?"

"The blue Indian one?" You ask. You can picture it clearly—you don't know it, but you picture it as clearly as Sehun did that night: Mimi in Sehun's lap, playing with how big his hands are. Wine glasses and a half-empty bottle sit on a table to the side. You're trying to put together a puzzle meant for a six-year-old while holding a conversation with Sehun about what the class bird in Mimi's class would be like if it was human. 

"Yeah, that one. I saw it so clearly, love. The world was trying to tell me something. The world was trying to tell me that you are the one." You feel your heat pick up in that way only Sehun can make it do as he reaches into his pocket. "This wasn't planned, sweetheart, I promise, but you just look so beautiful I don't know what I'll do for the rest of my life if you don't have my ring around your finger, and I can call you wife, and maybe, Mimi can call you Mommy?"

Your mind goes blessedly blank, and it's just you and him, and his heart is laid out before you, on that beautiful boardwalk at sunset, and you just stare at him for a second. But even this Sehun understands; he knows you so well that he understands this is just you needing time to process, to lock this moment in your memory and never let it go. 

Then your mouth opens of its own accord. "Yes," you whisper, and Sehun's face lights up like it only does for two people in the whole world. He slips the huge diamond onto your finger: it fits perfectly and you can feel tears welling in your eyes quickly Sehun rises so he's sitting on the bench again. He gently runs his soft fingers under your eyes, wiping the tears away, kissing you on the nose, then on the forehead, then chastely on the mouth. 

"I love you," He murmurs like a prayer, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your nose again, then your mouth, then your forehead, his hands woven tightly with yours. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you."

When you and Sehun arrive home (your shared home, now), you feel something is amiss. You're so attuned to Sehun you know he's hiding something, but every time you ask him about it he just grins stupidly and kisses you to shut you up. Unfortunately, it's generally a very successful tactic.

When you walk into the house, it's eerily silent; you know that Mimi and her babysitter should at least be at home. You look at Sehun questioningly, but he just pushes you forward, his hand comforting in the small of your back. When you finally get to the living room, you nearly jump out of our skin. There are all of your colleagues, and everyone Sehun works with, and even the kids Mimi goes to school with. And there's Mimi, in the center of it all, the start if it all and the star of it all.

She's grinning from ear to ear. "Mommy!" she says, running up to you and leaping into your arms. It's strangely similar to how she'd greeted Sehun the first time they'd met. "Daddy told me he was going to marry you, Mommy. I told him you'd say yes so he better ask you."

You know it's a happy occasion, but for some reason, staring into Mimi's eyes that brimmed with love, your eyes welled with tears again. Confusion rose like a wave in Mimi's face and she wiped at your eyes, her fingers small ghosts of her father's. "Don't cry," she says, pouting. "Uljima." Then she pushes the corners of your mouth upwards until you laugh and now Sehun's here, after greeting the guests, his arms encircling both of you, finally completing the family, spreading kisses equally between you both. 

Author's note: this is nothing but straight, disgusting fluff. No conflict or trial, no nothing except love and Sehun being a sweet, y dad. I hope you enjoyed! Happy birthday Pat!