I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 506 Nervous

For a second, she just stood there, watching him sleep, feeling something warm and quiet bloom in her chest.

Then she shook her head lightly, almost embarrassed at herself, and quietly slipped out of the room so she wouldn’t wake him.

The hallway was cool under her bare feet as she walked toward the kitchen, the house still wrapped in early morning calm. From the boys’ room came soft, sleepy breathing and the faint rustle of blankets. She peeked in just for a second.

Both boys were still asleep, tangled slightly in blankets, looking impossibly small and peaceful.

Her heart softened instantly.

Closing the door halfway, she moved into the kitchen and tied her hair properly before starting breakfast.

The quiet domestic routine grounded her quickly.

She washed vegetables, cut fruit, set bread to toast, and warmed milk slowly so it wouldn’t burn. The small sounds of cooking filled the silence. Knife tapping the board. Pan warming. Spoon stirring.

The smell of food slowly spread through the house, warm and comforting.

She moved automatically, familiar with every corner of this kitchen now, and as she worked, her mind drifted to today.

Parents meeting.

Adults.

Questions.

Expectations.

Her stomach tightened slightly.

She exhaled slowly and focused on flipping the toast instead.

You teach babies who can burn classrooms accidentally, she reminded herself silently.

You can handle parents.

Still...

Her fingers paused briefly over the counter before she forced herself to continue plating breakfast neatly.

By the time she finished, the table looked warm and inviting. Simple. Homely.

And somehow... steadying.

She wiped her hands on a towel and leaned lightly against the counter, listening to the quiet house around her.

"Good morning, Little Dove."

His voice was still rough from sleep, deep and warm in a way that made the words settle directly into her chest. He leaned down and pressed a slow, gentle kiss to her forehead.

Alina blinked, looking up at him.

His hair was messier than usual, dark strands falling carelessly across his forehead, horns slightly angled from sleep, and his crimson eyes still heavy with morning softness. There was something unfairly cute about seeing someone so powerful look this relaxed.

Her lips curved automatically.

"Morning, Dee," she said softly, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist.

He immediately pulled her closer, one large hand settling naturally on her back, his thumb brushing slow, absent circles like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. A small, rare smile appeared on his lips, the kind only she got to see.

For a moment, they just stood there, holding each other in the warm kitchen light, the smell of breakfast still floating around them.

"I made breakfast," she said after a second, her voice softer now, comfortable. "Go wake up the babies too."

He hummed quietly in agreement, looking down at her face like he was memorizing something. Then he leaned down again and kissed her forehead once more, slower this time, more lingering.

"Okay," he said quietly.

Then he turned and walked toward the hallway, his large frame moving lazily but purposefully, still not fully awake but already in father mode.

The house stayed quiet for only a few seconds more before his deep voice echoed softly from the boys’ room.

"Wake up."

A pause.

A blanket rustle.

"...Five more minutes," a tiny sleepy voice mumbled.

"Two minutes," Dante replied calmly.

"Noo... five minutes..." she heard Sable’s tiny voice.

Alina covered her mouth, laughing softly to herself.

After breakfast together, Alina left first. She went to the staff room.

Morning sunlight slipped through the tall staff room windows, laying soft golden rectangles across desks, files, and half finished cups of tea.

She pushed the door open gently and stepped inside, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

"Good morning," Gabriel said, glancing up from the papers he was arranging, amusement already flickering in his ocean blue eyes the moment he noticed her expression.

Alina dropped her bag beside her chair and sat down with a small exhale. "Morning, Gabs."

Gabriel leaned back slightly in his chair, folding his arms loosely as he studied her face more carefully now. "You look like you’re about to walk into a battlefield."

Alina let out a breathy laugh and pressed her palms flat on her desk. "I feel like I am."

"Nervous?" he asked, his voice gentler now.

"Uh... yes," she admitted, her shoulders dropping as the truth left her mouth. She leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling for a second. "Very nervous."

Gabriel chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slowly. "You’re being very strange today."

She turned her head toward him. "Excuse me?"

"I mean it," he said, smiling lightly. "Why are you scared? The babies are the ones who should be scared. You know their results. You checked their papers three times. You even rechecked the ones you were already sure about. So what exactly are you scared of?"

Alina blinked at him.

Once.

Twice.

"...That is actually a very good question," she muttered.

Gabriel laughed properly now, the sound warm and easy. "Exactly. You’re acting like you’re the one getting evaluated."

She pressed her lips together, thinking, then sighed again. "Maybe I am scared of... parents’ expectations."

His smile softened, becoming more understanding. "Ah. That makes more sense."

She nodded slowly. "Babies are easy. They show what they feel. If they’re upset, they cry. If they’re happy, they laugh. If they don’t like something, they tell me directly."

"But adults..." Gabriel said knowingly.

"...Adults smile and judge silently," she finished.

He nodded once. "Sometimes, yes."

She rested her chin on her hand, staring at her attendance file without really seeing the neat rows of names and numbers. The paper blurred slightly as her thoughts tangled together. "What if they think I’m not good enough? What if they think a human shouldn’t teach their supernatural children?"

Gabriel didn’t answer immediately.

For a few seconds, he simply watched her, his expression thoughtful rather than dismissive, like he was weighing her fear instead of brushing it away.

Then he leaned back in his chair and spoke quietly, calmly.

"Yes... maybe some of them will think like that," he said honestly.

Alina’s fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the file.

"But," he continued, tilting his head slightly, "if they truly had serious objections... do you think you would still be working here?"