Noah's attention had fallen to his shoes at some point, a frown on his face at the realization that one of the toes was scuffed. He couldn't even remember how he'd scuffed it and, in a moment of pure childish anger, decided to blame the people who had broken into his house and started this whole mess. Kicking at an invisible shin of a man who wasn't even there, the boy half-stumbled forward a bit as his own angry movement caught him off balance.
For one precarious moment, Noah's arms flailed about as he struggled to find his balance. He managed to right himself before he fell over entirely, but couldn't stop the flush that stained his cheeks at having almost fallen in the first place. He glanced quickly around to make sure no one else had seen his slip-up, only to spot his father not far from the stairs at all.
Embarrassment and relief warred within the boy, with relief winning out in the end. "Dad!" he shouted in delight as he carefully hop-stepped down the stairs until he was at the bottom. Once both feet were firmly on the ground again, he next took off at a full speed run toward the man.
Recently, Noah had begun to feel the first twinges of embarrassment at showing too much affection in public. He wasn't a baby, and he wasn't a girl. He didn't mind holding his father's hand when they went out places, but he didn't want to be carried and he didn't want any hugs and kisses where his friends might see him.
This time, though, it wouldn't have mattered to the boy if every friend he'd ever had was standing right there beside him. He didn't hesitate, didn't even so much as blink an eye, before throwing his arms around his father's waist as soon as he was close enough and clinging to him as though he might disappear right into thin air.