A/N: A/N: So my love for Lalo has suddenly slapped me in the face and I can't get enough of him. I couldn't find any Lalo x reader fics so I decided to let my mind run wild with this one. I figure he'd be a flirty guy bc have you seen this man? He oozes charm and his mouth never stops, so it's pretty much a given.
Also, I speak zero Spanish and used Google Translate for this, so please don't hold the translations against me if they're wrong.
The woman watched as the children mingled among the elderly - boys running amok while the girls spoke with the older ladies about their snowy hair and the rings on their fingers. It was controlled chaos - they were, of course, under the watchful eye of the staff, but it was chaos all the same.
She was kept constantly on her toes. Just as she finished ushering a group of children out of the cafeteria she noticed a few of the students approaching a man in a wheelchair. She watched for signs of discomfort on his face, knowing that kids weren't some people's cup of tea, and found that and more when she saw his eyes. They were hard and he seemed like he didn't want to be a part of the rambunctious activity, so she stepped over to the children crowding around him and quickly directed them elsewhere.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, her smile genuine as she spoke to him, "I'll try to reign them in."
He hardly moved, his eyes scanned her as they sat there in what she felt like was a standoff, but she could tell by the breath that heaved out of him that he wasn't pleased. His lips twitched and she waited for him to say something, but he only continued to stare. He moved his arm only slightly - almost undetectable -until his finger hovered over what looked to be a bell that had been tied onto the arm of his chair by a string. The digit shook for a moment before he flicked his wrist and a shrill ding echoed throughout the room.
Some of the children looked around for the sound while others ignored it completely. The teacher, not knowing what the sound might be indicating just gave him another quick apology and scurried away, snapping gently at one of the children as they reach for an elder gentlemen's glasses, eager to try them on.
"No," she reprimanded him, pointing her finger so that he'd understand she was speaking to him. "We don't need to be sharing personal belongings with these nice people, okay?"
Sneaking in a quick moment she leaned against the wall and sighed heavily - pleased that this was one of the last field trips of the year. She didn't know if she could handle many more with this group - as sweet as they were also just as rambunctious. She pushed off the wall and herded the group of tiny humans onto the stage to perform the song they'd been practicing for weeks.
They settled on the stage, the teacher in the middle, and the children surrounding her in a circle.
The residents gathered around, eager to hear what they'd prepared - even the wheelchair-bound man watched them from his corner of the room. Glancing up, the teacher looked in his direction and was mildly surprised to see another man with him, younger, but older than her still. He spoke to the man with the bell in hushed whispers, his words shared between only them, before his eyes, too, were upon the stage.
The new man's inky gaze found her own and she held it as he made himself comfortable in his chair, sitting back like he owned the place, legs spread and one elbow propped up onto the table, his eyes shining with interest. His free hand ran through his dark hair before he raised his chin to her in acknowledgment.
Tearing her concentration away the woman cleared her throat and then quietly started their count - the agreed-upon count of three - and then strummed the guitar in her lap.
The children watched her, mesmerized as always when the notes came together, blending into the beloved song. She'd strummed through the beginning once and when one had began to sing the woman took it upon herself to get them started. She opened her mouth, the words dancing from her tongue as easily as she breathed. Her voice was soft, and suddenly all eyes were on her.
"I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world"
She glanced around at the children, her bright smile encouraging some of them to join in. Some began to sway while they sang and in just a few moments they'd finally found harmony. Their voices melded together into something beautiful, bringing a tear to many of the resident's eyes. Most of the watched, their hands clasped together in happiness, while some of the others locked hands and swayed gently to the tune.
Almost as soon as it began, the song was over.
The class stood up, locked hands, and gave a small bow. They waved and made their way to the door, the teacher checking her list as they passed her one by one to gather on the school bus. Once she was sure she had everyone marked she glanced back inside the double doors and caught the mysterious man's eyes once again. She could feel the weight of his stare even before she turned, and she gave him a small wave.
He returned it with a great smile - his teeth even whiter against the mustache on his lip.
The entire ride back to school she thought of the dark-eyed man's stare - his predatory gaze and his grin that was so big it looked like it hurt. She was an independent woman, she was strong and she knew that she should be above such juvenile thoughts, but she couldn't help but blush when she thought of his demeanor. He was shockingly confident, even the way he sat was like he was offering a challenge to the world around him, his shoulders were back and his head held high. His interesting choice in shirts was also something she'd picked up on quickly - she hadn't met many men that wore what looked like such a delicate fabric - not to mention the dizzying design printed on it.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and went about her day - her mind drifting from the man back to her work.
Until a few days later in a restaurant on the other side of town.
Work had drained her and instead of preparing her own meal she'd decided to stop by and get a quick meal - El Michoacáno was on her route home and she was suddenly hungry for some Mexican cuisine, so she pulled into the parking lot and stepped out. She straightened her shirt and smoothed down her hair before she grabbed her purse and went inside.
Upbeat music blared overhead and the smell of spices and the sizzling sound of the grill was nearly enough for her to begin to salivate. Her eyes were glued to the menu ahead and she stepped forward.
The man behind the counter greeted her quickly and she ordered back just as fast - the number six looked amazing. She reach into her purse and fished for her wallet when suddenly there was a warm hand on her arm.
"Please," a happy voice came from beside her. "Allow me."
She glanced over and was once again met with a blinding grin from the man at the retirement home. He wagged his eyebrow at her once and then reach some money over the counter. He leaned against it, looking down at her with the same curiosity he had watched her with only a few days earlier.
"You're the teacher that performed at Casa Tranquila, no?"
The woman bit back a grin. "That's right. And you're the guy with the colorful shirts."
A chuckle tore out of his throat. " Si, si . I enjoy this particular pattern," he motioned to the floral design that decorated his chest. "I've got to admit, senorita , you've been on my mind for the last few days."
"Oh?" She grinned, looking down at the flowy white shirt and then down to her simple blue jeans. "The lack of color in my wardrobe keeping you up at night?"
"No, no, no," he smiled. "Your clothes suit you. It would be a crime for you to wear such a thing."
She raised a brow and joked, "so you've claimed all patterns then?"
"You misunderstand." He raised his hand and motioned to her face. "Why try to take the attention away from such a beautiful face?"
It was like a fire was lit beneath her - her cheeks burned, all the way to the tips of her ears, and she found herself tucking her hair back - something she hadn't done since middle school. She inwardly cursed her actions, but was able to mumble out a quick, "thank you."
"No, what I've been thinking about is your song," he told her.
She laughed and grabbed her order when the man behind the counter held it out to her. She gave him a quick thank you and turned back to the man still leaning against the counter. "The kids love it, too. It's a classic."
" Si, " he agreed once again. "Forgive my manners, señorita , I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo."
"Lalo," she repeated. "I've got to admit it's better than calling you, shirt guy."
He chuckled again, his eyes never leaving her. "You're a peculiar woman."
"So I've been told," she admitted. She held her free hand out to him, offering a proper handshake. "I'm Olivia."
"Olivia," Lalo said, taking her hand in his own. His hand was large, warm, and oddly smooth. Her name rolled off his tongue like honey and she had to fight the tingle that shot down her spine, sending heat straight to her belly. "And now I don't have to call you Profesora de canto ."
"I guess not," she agreed. She glanced down at the food in her hand. "Thanks again for the food."
He shrugged. "Of course."
"Maybe sometime I can pay you back," she offered slyly.
Lalo grinned, this time brightest of all. "I'll hold you to it."