The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden hue over the playground. You sat on a nearby bench, watching the children run around with boundless energy, your niece’s laughter filling the air. You had been a little disappointed when you realized that Valentine’s Day would be spent babysitting instead of sharing a romantic evening alone with Scara, but seeing him now, surrounded by a gaggle of kids, all of them in the middle of a hide-and-seek game, you couldn't help but smile.

Scara had always been a bit reluctant when it came to the more cutesy, lovey-dovey side of things. Back in elementary school, whenever someone teased you two about being "sweethearts," his cheeks would flush bright red, and he’d quickly deny it, embarrassed beyond belief. But he had always stuck by you, and now, in college, after years of dancing around your feelings, he had finally asked you out. It felt like the pieces had fallen into place.

You watched as your niece chased Scara around the slide, her giggles contagious. The other kids had quickly joined in the game, drawn to his quiet charm, and now they all scrambled to catch him. Scara had long since abandoned his usual stoic demeanor, his exhaustion evident, but there was a light in his eyes as he played along, clearly enjoying himself despite the chaos.

Finally, he jogged over to you, breathless and grinning, his usual sharp attitude softened. His hair was tousled from running around, and a light sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. "They don’t run out of energy, do they?" he panted, sitting down next to you with a tired yet content sigh. His usual seriousness was replaced by a rare look of vulnerability, the playful side of him that only you got to see.

You chuckled, handing him a water bottle. "Nope, they’ll keep going if you let them." You couldn’t help but admire how adorable he looked—tired, disheveled, and out of breath, yet so full of life. The way the kids had swarmed him, laughing and pulling him into their game, had made your heart melt.