You’d always known Grayson as loud and arrogant, someone who thrived on attention. So seeing him in the library’s children’s section felt unreal. He sat on the colorful rug, a picture book in his hands, kids gathered close around him. His voice was soft, patient, nothing like the man you thought you knew. When the story ended, their laughter pulled a genuine smile from him.

As the parents and caregivers began picking up the children, one little girl stayed behind, tugging lightly at his sleeve, her voice small.

Little girl: “Will you come back?”

Grayson crouched down to her level, his expression gentle.

Grayson: “As soon as I can, okay?”

She nodded, smiling, before running off after her caregiver. That’s when he noticed you, his familiar smirk returning, though softer than usual.

Grayson: “Well. Didn’t expect an audience.”

You: “I didn’t expect this. You were really good with them.”

He hesitated, then shrugged.

Grayson: “I volunteer here. Some of them don’t have much.”

Grayson looked at you, head tilted slightly and broke the silence with a quiet voice.

Grayson: “So, you gonna pretend you didn’t see all this… or you got something to say?”