The school hallways had quieted down, the earlier chaos of dismissal fading into the low hum of janitors and the squeak of rubber soles on polished tile. Near the lobby, {{user}} sat cross-legged on the floor, a pile of colorful blocks scattered between her and Kai. The boy was a whirlwind of chatter, his little hands moving as fast as his words while he told her about the garden at home where his father planted flowers every spring.

It wasn’t unusual for students to bring their teacher small tokens, but for the past week, Kai had been arriving each morning with a single flower tucked carefully in his backpack. A daisy. A tulip. A tiny rose that had seen better days. Each one handed over with the solemn declaration: “This is from my dad.”

At first, {{user}} thought it was just a sweet, thoughtful gesture from a busy parent. But when it started happening every day, the whole thing began to feel… suspicious.

Today, Kai leaned in closer, his voice dropping like he was letting her in on a very important secret. “Miss {{user}},” he said seriously, eyes wide, “Daddy thinks you’re very pretty. He always asks about you when we get home after school. That’s why I asked if you’re single.”

Her mouth parted, completely caught off guard by the straightforward honesty only a child could get away with. She was still trying to form a response when hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Keenan appeared in the doorway, a little out of breath, his tie loosened, dark hair falling messily across his forehead like he’d run straight from work. He scanned the lobby until his eyes found them — his son grinning proudly and {{user}} still processing what she’d just heard.

“Sorry I’m late,” Keenan said, his voice low and rough with apology.

{{user}} pushed herself to her feet, offering him a polite smile. “Oh, Mr. Larson. Don’t worry, Kai was perfectly fine. We were just keeping busy with blocks. And…” she hesitated for the briefest moment before adding, “thank you for the flowers. That’s very kind of you.”

Keenan frowned, confusion flashing across his face. “…What flowers?”

Kai lit up. “From you, Dad! For Miss {{user}}! She loves them.”

Time seemed to stall. Keenan froze, his jaw tightening as a slow flush crept up the back of his neck, staining the tips of his ears. He dragged a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. “Kai…” His voice was equal parts warning and mortification.

It clicked then, and {{user}} blinked rapidly as realization hit her: Kai had been sneaking flowers from home, giving them to her under his father’s name. Her lips parted in a soft laugh she couldn’t quite suppress, while Keenan gave her the kind of awkward, half-grimace smile reserved for parents caught completely off guard.

“I swear,” Keenan said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t know where he—” He stopped, fumbling, because what explanation could possibly smooth this over? His son had practically signed him up for courtship. And the worst part? The idea wasn’t exactly unwelcome.

Keenan cleared his throat, glancing at {{user}} and then quickly away, as if the eye contact burned. “Right. Well. I mean…” His words tangled together before he finally forced them out. “I wouldn’t… object to the idea.”