I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies! Chapter 365 His smile

Lucien and Sable nodded so fast their hair bounced.

"Teacher, don’t worry!" Sable said, stretching his tiny arms as if hugging the air. "Shadow ditation is very hard!"

Lucien leaned closer with big, comforting eyes. "Dad told he took a very long ti too. Very long. Very, very long."

Dante cleared his throat. "Lucien."

"It was long," Lucien insisted, whispering loudly to Alina. "Dad told himself."

Alina couldn’t help it. Her lips curved into a small laugh, breaking the tension inside her chest.

Dante ignored his son’s betrayal and continued gently, "ditation requires calm. If your heart is heavy or your thoughts are unsettled, the colors will not appear. You should try again later, when you feel lighter."

Alina lifted her eyes to him, and the sincerity in his expression made sothing warm bloom quietly inside her.

"Okay, sir," she murmured, nodding softly. "I’ll try again."

Dante gave a small smile, relieved she wasn’t hard on herself. "Good."

Sable crawled closer, placing his tiny hand on her knee. "Teacher, Sable believes you. Your core very pretty when it co out."

Lucien nodded in full agreent. "Sparkly. Very sparkly."

Alina giggled softly, warm and humbled, and gently patted both their heads.

"Thank you, babies."

Dante watched her with quiet fondness, his eyes taking in the gentle expression on her face and the softness in her voice.

The picnic turned out far better than Alina could have imagined. She felt so relaxed with Dante and the babies. The river’s slow rhythm cald her, the soft breeze brushed her hair back gently, and the babies were simply a treasure to watch. Sable and Lucien played together with such pure innocence that Alina found herself smiling without even realizing it. Their little conversations about friends and toy animals, their serious debates about which shadow creature was stronger, their soft giggles and tiny argunts...everything felt so sweet and so unburdened compared to adult conversations, which were always filled with tension, worry, or responsibility.

There was sothing healing about the way children talked to each other, she thought as she leaned back on her hands, watching them. Their tiny voices, their playful ideas, even their mistakes... everything felt lighter. Softer. As if the world itself was kinder when seen through their eyes.

By the ti evening settled, both boys were sleepily leaning against Dante, nodding off one by one, their little hands clutching onto his clothes.

Hours later, when they finally arrived at her doorstep, Dante stood there holding the two half-asleep boys, one in each arm. Sable had his cheek pressed against Dante’s shoulder, mumbling nonsense in his sleep, while Lucien’s hand clung tightly to Dante’s sleeve as if he refused to let go even in dreams.

Alina’s heart softened at the sight.

"I hope we did not disturb you today," Dante said quietly. His voice was low, careful, as if he didn’t want to wake the babies.

"No, sir, you didn’t disturb at all," she said quickly, her smile growing warm. "I enjoyed your company... and the babies’. So much."

A gentle look flickered in Dante’s eyes, the kind that made her heart flutter for reasons she refused to think about.

"Then I will take my leave," he said softly. He adjusted the sleeping boys slightly, then stepped away from her doorstep with that calm, dignified aura that always surrounded him.

Alina stood there, hands clasped in front of her chest as she watched him walk a little farther down her path. Shadows gathered around him gracefully, opening a tall dark portal like a curtain of mist and light. And just before he stepped inside, Dante turned back.

He didn’t say anything. He just gave her a smile. It was gentle, deep, breathtaking.

Then he disappeared.

How could a man smile so simply and still steal the breath from her chest? She had no word for a smile like that.

He wasn’t a man who knew how to smile without a reason. She had seen it earlier when she asked him to smile for the photo—his face stayed stiff, unsure, almost confused. He simply didn’t know how to pretend. But the mont she gave him sothing real to smile about, it appeared effortlessly... gentle, sincere, and heartbreakingly genuine. n who smiled like that were rare. Almost impossible to find.

She stood frozen for a mont, her heart thudding so loudly she felt it echo in her fingertips. She closed her door slowly, leaning her back against it with a soft exhale. Her cheeks were warm—no, burning—and butterflies fluttered in her stomach like they had suddenly woken up from a long sleep.

He was gorgeous. Unfairly so. And worse, he was gentle when he wanted to be, mature in a way that cald her, powerful enough to move shadows like extensions of himself, and yet he asked for her help like an equal. He was protective, caring, impossibly knowledgeable, and such a wonderful father. And—she buried her face in her hands for a second—he was tall, broad, handso beyond reason.

It was unfair. Entirely unfair.

"He is so perfect," she whispered to herself as she finally pushed off the door and walked into the quiet of her ho.

The thought slipped out before she could stop it, and embarrassnt swelled in her chest, making her curl her toes against the floor. Her eyes softened, filled with amazent and a strange, fluttering emotion she had no na for yet.

"I need to breathe," she muttered, pressing a hand to her beating heart.

But no matter how many breaths she took, the mory of that smile stayed with her.

Alina practically stumbled into her bedroom, her face still burning with that impossible mix of embarrassnt and sothing else she didn’t dare na. The mont she reached her bed, she didn’t even bother to change or fold her blanket properly, she simply dropped herself onto the soft mattress face-first, burying her warm cheeks into the pillow as a helpless groan escaped her.

"Argh! Alina, what is wrong with you?" she whispered into the sheets, kicking her feet violently like a flustered teenager instead of a sensible adult. Her legs thrashed once, twice, then curled up as she hugged her pillow tightly, her whole body buzzing with leftover excitent she was desperately trying to deny.

She flipped over with a dramatic sigh, covering her face with both hands as her blush deepened. Every ti she closed her eyes, she saw that mont; Dante turning before stepping into the portal, giving her that quiet, breathtaking smile that felt like it touched so hidden part of her.

"No, no, no. Don’t think about him," she scolded herself, rolling side to side on the bed as if she could physically shake the thoughts away. "He is the principal. He is your boss. You absolutely cannot—"