He opened his mouth, trying to figure out how to respond to that, but nothing came out. He just stared at her, half-amused, half-baffled.
Vivi, seemingly satisfied with her explanation, beamed proudly. A big, messy cocoa mustache adorned her upper lip, like war paint before a battle. "She said I can trust you. An' you got sad puppy eyes... but nice hair. Like a TV man."
Maverick chuckled, his voice rough around the edges. "I think your mom remembers more than she lets on."
Vivi took another generous sip of her cocoa, the whole mug cradled in her tiny hands. After a quick wipe of her mouth on her sleeve, she leaned in with the kind of sincerity that only a six-year-old could muster. "I like you. You not borin'. You don't talk like blah blah blah. Can we watch da sparkle unicorn show after dis? Da one where they fight a broccoli dragon?"
Maverick couldn't help but smile at that, his heart warm with the simplicity of her request. "Sure, kid. Anything you want."
Without any warning, she reached across the table, grabbed a half-bitten toast triangle from her plate, and shoved it straight into his mouth, her face the picture of determination. "SHAAARE TIME! Open da chompers!"
Maverick, completely caught off guard, coughed and nearly choked on the bread. But even as he laughed through it, he felt something shift inside. "Thanks, chef," he managed, his voice still a little rough from the sudden surprise.
"Now you gots my honey toast, so we best friends forever," Vivi declared, her voice full of conviction, as if it were an unbreakable rule of the universe. "It's da rules."
And just like that, breakfast became something sacred. Sticky, goofy, and full of crumbs—crumbs that scattered everywhere, marking the kind of chaos that only a six-year-old could create.
For Maverick, it wasn't just about the toast or the cocoa or even the unicorns and broccoli dragons. It was about the pure simplicity of it all. About a little girl who saw the world in a way that made him forget his own broken pieces for a while.
For the first time in years, Maverick felt... a little less broken.
After breakfast, Maverick carried Vivi to the bathroom, his arms steady and warm around her little body. The room smelled faintly of lavender, steam rising from the tub as the water filled it, creating a soft haze that curled gently around the tiles. It was a peaceful, quiet moment—the kind that seemed to stretch time.
Vivi hesitated when she saw the water, her tiny hands gripping the edge of the tub like it might disappear if she let go. Maverick smiled at her, the kind of smile that made everything feel safe, and helped her settle in. She slowly sank into the warm water, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as it enveloped her.
As he washed her hair, he hummed a soft tune, his fingers working through the tangles with a tenderness that almost seemed too gentle for a man who'd seen his share of rough days. Vivi splashed and kicked her legs, sending little waves over the side, giggling each time the water hit the floor.
When bath time was over, he wrapped her in a fluffy towel, the fabric warm against her damp skin, and dressed her in the makeshift T-shirt he'd torn the night before. It was huge on her, the sleeves almost reaching her knees. She wrinkled her nose at it, crossing her arms in protest.
"I wanna wear a pretty dress," she mumbled, her voice soft but determined, the little frown on her face making her look much older than her years.
Maverick knelt beside her, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary. "I know, kiddo. But this one's comfy, and for now, it's what we got."
She sighed dramatically, then whispered, her voice quieter now, "All my daddies are bad. All except Daddy No. 1. He gave me lotsa pretty dresses. An' toys. I miss him. And Mrs. Grovi."
Maverick's heart clenched in a way he hadn't expected. The mention of Daddy No. 1—Stanley—cut through him. He knew about the man, of course. The cold, ruthless figure who'd never seemed like he'd have a soft side. But here was Vivi, sharing memories of kindness, of a man who had cared for her in ways Maverick hadn't imagined.
"You miss Daddy No. 1… Stanley?" he asked, his voice softer than he intended.
Vivi nodded, her big eyes serious as she looked up at him. "He was nice. He gave me a blue dress with sparkles, and a teddy bear with button eyes. And he took good care of me too... gave me pat while sleeping."
Maverick blinked, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he'd expected. Stanley had given her dresses? That wasn't the Stanley he knew—the Stanley who lived in shadows and made people tremble. That man had a softer side?
"Stanley gave you dresses?" Maverick asked, the question coming out almost like a whisper, as if he were afraid to disturb the fragile truth that Vivi had just shared.
She nodded again, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yeah. Big dresses. Fancy. I think he loves me 'cause he makes sure I'm safe. Not like the scary bad guys."
Maverick swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. He had always thought of Stanley as nothing more than a villain in Vivi's life. But now, hearing her speak of him with such tenderness—it made Maverick question everything he thought he knew.
"Sounds like Stanley's got a softer side than people think," he said quietly, the realization settling in his chest like a weight he wasn't sure how to bear.
Vivi looked up at him, her eyes wide with hope. "You love me too?"
Her question was simple, but it carried all the weight of a thousand unspoken fears. Maverick smiled, his heart swelling with a tenderness he hadn't felt in so long.
"More than anything, Vivi," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm gonna keep you safe—no matter what."
Her smile, pure and bright, lit up the room like sunshine breaking through clouds. "Okay! Den we can be daddies togedder. I like dat."
Maverick pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her small shoulders. The world outside could keep spinning on its axis, keep being messy and complicated and full of uncertainties. But right there, in that moment, he had everything that mattered.
"Yeah, kiddo. Together."