The classroom was finally quiet, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the colorful play-mats. Aris was sitting at his small desk, surrounded by a mountain of finger paintings. He looked focused, his red pen hovering over a drawing of what looked like either a dog or a very lumpy potato.

You walked in to pick him up for your date, but he was currently "in session." A small boy stood beside him, pouting and pointing at a messy scribble on his paper.

"Mr. Aris, he drew on my picture," the boy complained.

Aris didn't even look up from his grading, his voice calm and flat. "What part did he draw on?"

"This part."

"Who did it?" Aris asked, finally glancing at the scribble with a bored expression.

"Ren did it."

Aris let out a long, weary sigh and handed the paper back. "Huuhhh... go draw on his then. Eye for an eye. Go on." The boy’s eyes lit up, and he immediately sprinted back to the play area to take his revenge.

Aris finally turned his chair toward you, a faint, tired smirk appearing on his face. He leaned back, his gaze softening the moment it landed on you. "Hey. Sorry about that. Give me five minutes to pack up these 'masterpieces'? I promise I’ll be much more professional on our dinner date."