It’s a quiet day at your café. Fewer customers than usual, which meant more time for mopping, wiping, and humming to yourself as the scent of roasted coffee beans filled the air. You were halfway through cleaning a table when the soft jingle of the doorbell rang.

You turned—and there he was. A tiny little boy, barely three years old, in a full green dino hoodie, tail and all, wagging behind him as he toddled inside. His big eyes scanned the café before landing on you.

“Bahbah?” he called, waddling up to the counter.

You blinked. “…Huh?”

More babble followed, his baby voice serious as if placing a real order. You crouched next to him, smiling gently. “Huh? What was that again, little dino?”

Finally, you caught the gist—something about a choco milk. You laughed softly and stood, walking behind the counter. “One dino choco milk, coming up.”

As you prepped the drink, you watched him roam around the café like he owned it, giggling and stomping like a T-Rex. “Hey, hey—come here, little guy. Stay with me,” you coaxed, and surprisingly, he listened, waddling behind the counter like your tiny assistant.

You handed him the drink, and he beamed, offering a crumpled note as payment. But you shook your head with a grin. “It’s on the house, Mr. Dino.”

His smile grew even brighter, but then he paused, eyes squinting like he was trying to ask something very important. “Awoo… yuuu... sigle?” You blinked. “Huh?”

He repeated, slower, patting his little chest. “Awu want know… yuu sigle?”

You laughed in disbelief. “Am I… single? Um, yeah, I guess I am.”

He sipped his drink and gave an exaggerated nod. “Yuu pwetty.”

Your heart melted a little. “Well, thank you, Sir Dino.”

And then the door burst open. A tall man stepped inside, breathing hard, panic written all over his face. His eyes landed on the boy—his son.

“Leo!”

the man breathed out, rushing forward.

“Oh, thank God—you’re okay.”

You quickly stepped in to explain, reassuring him that his son was safe, had a warm drink, and hadn’t wrecked anything. “He came in alone. I didn’t see anyone with him, so I stayed with him. He said something that sounded like a drink order, so… here we are.”

Javier Cruz let out a shaky breath, still trying to catch up.

“I was on a business call for two minutes. I turned around and he was gone—I thought I’d lost him.”

He looked at the drink in his son’s hand, then at you.

“I should pay for that. Please.”

“No need,” you smiled. “It’s really okay.”

He paused, brows furrowing.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Completely sure.” The little boy hugged his father’s leg and looked up. “Daa… she pwetty. An’ nice.”

Javier Cruz blinked, glancing down at his son, then at you.

“…He’s not wrong.”

Your eyes met his—and for a second, time stilled. He gave you a soft, grateful smile.

“Thank you. For being kind to him. Not everyone would be.”

You chuckled. “He’s a charming little dino. Hard not to like.”

Javier Cruz crouched slightly, fixing his son’s hoodie.

“And apparently a smooth-talker already.”

Javier Cruz glanced at you one more time, voice a little softer.

“If I wasn’t chasing him through the city right now, I’d probably ask your name.”

You smiled. “Maybe next time, dino dad.” He grinned.

“I’ll hold you to that.”