Playcare was as lively as ever, filled with the laughter of children running about. Yazmina moved through the halls with ease, her presence acknowledged with passing glances but never outright engagement.

She wasn't here to befriend anyone-only to observe and understand.

Yet, as she entered the main play area, something new caught her attention.

A teenager sat in the center of a loose circle of children, effortlessly commanding their attention with animated storytelling.

He's taller than the rest but he wasn't the strongest, nor did he carry himself with the strict authority of an adult. And yet, the kids hung onto his every word, eyes bright with admiration.

Yazmina narrowed her gaze slightly.

Who is he?

Her answer came soon enough.

"Matt! Tell us more!" one of the children whined.

Matthew.

Matthew Hallard, the only teen aged 15 years old in Playcare according to the game.

She had heard his name in passing but had never truly noticed him until now.

Unlike the others, he wasn't engaged in studies or rigorous training.

No, Matthew existed in a space entirely his own, one that seemed untouched by the harshness of this place.

A charismatic leader, adored by the younger ones-someone who made Playcare feel less like a facility and more like a home.

And then, as if sensing her gaze, he looked up.

The moment their eyes met, Yazmina caught something peculiar-his confidence flickered, just for a second. His lips parted slightly, his usual easygoing expression faltering.

And then, to her slight amusement, a soft pink dusted his cheeks.

Oh?

She tilted her head slightly, watching.

Matthew, for his part, immediately looked away, rubbing the back of his neck as though suddenly very interested in the floor.

"Doctor Yaz!" one of the children called, snapping her attention back. "Come listen! Matt tells the best stories!"

She smirked before stepping closer, arms crossed. "Oh? The best stories, you say? And here I thought I was the most interesting person here."

The children giggled, but Matthew, still a bit stiff, forced a grin. "I think we can share the spotlight, Doc." His voice was steady, but she noticed the way his fingers fidgeted slightly in his lap.

Interesting.

She stared at him, finally understanding what Claire Harper, one of the counselors, and Stella Greyber had meant.

He truly had the looks.

With dark hair that framed his sharp features and striking blue eyes that seemed to pierce through her, he carried an effortless allure. His nose was straight, well-defined-almost aristocratic in its refinement.

Given his youth, he could have easily made a name for himself in the modern world-perhaps even as a model.

She decided to test him further.

"You," she said, eyes locked onto his, "tell me a story then, Matthew."

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

The way she said his name-it rolled off her tongue with an effortless confidence that sent something warm crawling up his spine.

He wasn't used to feeling shy, yet under her gaze, he suddenly felt like a nervous schoolboy.

Still, he cleared his throat and forced himself to meet her stare. "I-uh, well-" He caught himself and chuckled awkwardly, trying to recover. "I was just about to finish one. You sure you won't get bored, Doctor?"

Yazmina raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

The challenge was enough to force him out of his flustered state-at least, a little. He shot her a lopsided grin, though his ears still burned red.

"Alright," he said, leaning forward slightly. "But don't say I didn't warn you-my stories are legendary."

She smirked, settling in.

This boy was interesting.

And judging by the way he avoided her eyes for the rest of the story, she was going to have a lot of fun teasing him.

Matthew took a deep breath, regaining some of his usual confidence as he launched into his story. The children huddled close, eager to listen, while Yazmina sat across from him, her arms crossed, watching with an amused smirk.

"There once was a little boy who lived in a village at the edge of a vast forest," Matthew began, his voice steady despite the lingering warmth in his face. "Everyone in the village warned him never to go too deep into the woods because something lived there-something that whispered from the trees and watched from the shadows."

The children gasped, some clutching their blankets tighter. Yazmina, however, simply raised an eyebrow.

"The boy, of course, didn't listen," Matthew continued, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "One day, he ventured deeper than ever before. The trees grew taller, the air colder, and then... he heard it. A voice calling his name."

A hush fell over the group. Even Yazmina found herself momentarily intrigued, though she kept her expression neutral.

Matthew paused dramatically before finishing, "But when the boy turned around, he didn't see a monster. He saw a shadow shaped just like him. And when he reached out to touch it... the boy vanished."

Silence.

Then-

"That's so scary!" one of the kids squeaked, clinging to another.

"What happened to him? Did he come back?" another asked, wide-eyed.

Matthew chuckled, leaning back. "No one knows. But some say that if you listen closely in the woods at night, you can still hear him calling for help."

The children shuddered, but the thrill of a good story kept them engaged.

Yazmina, meanwhile, merely tilted her head, amusement flickering in her golden eyes. "A shadow of himself, hmm? Sounds like a metaphor."

Matthew blinked, taken aback. "Uh-"

"Something about looking into the darkness and seeing yourself staring back. That kind of fear." She smirked knowingly. "Isn't that right, Matthew?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out immediately.

For a brief second, Yazmina saw the flicker of something real behind his charismatic mask.

A hesitation.

Then, just as quickly, he grinned, scratching his cheek. "Wow, Doc, you sure know how to make a guy feel like his storytelling skills aren't enough."

She chuckled. "Not at all. I think you're quite talented at spinning a tale."

The compliment was unexpected, and he felt the heat creeping back to his face. He quickly masked it with an easygoing laugh. "Guess I'll take that as a win."

Before Yazmina could tease him further, the loud chime of the Playcare bells rang through the halls, signaling the afternoon activity period.

Matthew clapped his hands together. "Alright, little gremlins, you know the drill! Time to head outside before the staff comes looking for you."

A chorus of groans followed, but the kids begrudgingly got up and started shuffling toward the courtyard. Some waved to Yazmina, others gave Matthew quick hugs before running off.

Yazmina stretched, watching as Matthew lingered, making sure all the children left.

"You really care about them," she noted.

He glanced at her, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. They're family." His voice was softer now, more honest. "Someone's gotta look out for them."

For a moment, Yazmina saw past the confident front-the weight he carried, the responsibility he had given himself.

She could respect that.

"Well," she said, turning on her heel, "enjoy your break, leader of Playcare."

Matthew chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her walk away. "See you around, Doctor Yazmina."

And when she was out of sight, he exhaled, pressing a hand to his chest.

Matthew had noticed Doctor Yazmina the very first time she stepped into Playcare. The moment he laid eyes on her, one thought had struck him-she was beautiful.

No, more than that. She was breathtaking.

Like something out of a dream. An angel.

Just thinking about her sent warmth rushing to his face. His cheeks burned, and before he could stop himself, he muttered, "Snap out of it, Matt!"-punctuating it with a light slap to his own cheek.

Shaking his head, he tried to push the thoughts away. He was fifteen now, no longer required to attend school, and the staff had already discussed keeping him on as part of the team caring for the younger children.

Even Doctor Greyber had approved, saying the kids needed someone like him.

It should have been simple.

But right now, with his heart hammering so hard he swore it might leap from his chest, Matthew knew one thing for certain.

Nothing about Yazmina was simple.