{{user}}’s three-year-old, (name), tore across the park like they were on some kind of secret mission. Their high, bubbling laughter carried on the breeze, pure and unrestrained, drawing more than a few smiles from nearby strangers.

“(Name)!” {{user}} called out, weaving after them with a mix of panic and amusement. Their voice was half-command, half-plea. “Slow down, baby, watch where you’re—!”

Thump.

(Name) barreled headfirst into someone’s legs and tumbled backward with a dramatic little “oof.” For a heartbeat, their wide eyes brimmed with the threat of tears—until strong, steady hands scooped them up before he could even think to cry.

“Whoa there,” a voice said, warm and edged with a laugh. “What’s the rush? You trying to break the sound barrier or something?”

(Name) blinked up at the man holding them. Tall, broad-shouldered, with windswept brown hair and a confident presence that seemed to demand attention without trying—Hal Jordan.

Instead of crying, (Name) squealed, his tiny fists clinging happily to Hal’s collar as if they'd just found a new best friend. Their giggles were instant, infectious, their little legs kicking excitedly in the air.

Hal glanced up, amusement flickering across his features as his eyes found {{user}}, slightly out of breath from the chase. He flashed a crooked smile, the kind that seemed to come effortlessly to him.

“This little speedster yours?” he asked, tone teasing but light, bouncing (Name) once against his hip as if the kid had been his responsibility all along.