Nothing dignified at all about that sort of laugh, but god was it charming and endearing and perfect. He beamed down at Henry, entirely smitten and helpless to it. Maybe he hadn't consciously realized it, hadn't admitted it to himself, but he was really so far gone.

"I was gonna say, look who's talking. But we... yeah. I guess we are."

He stole a kiss from those lips, like he needed to taste his smile. "You're cute when you laugh. Even if you snort like a bulldog. Very fitting. Very English."