The task was simple: gather the thick, water-rich vines Neytiri needed for binding the new shelter frames. The Sullys moved through the forest with practiced ease — and you stayed close to Kiri and Tuk, who were happily chattering like always.

Tuk held your arm as she hopped across a root, her eyes bright. “Are you staying with us the whole day, Lunsera Tsyiranir?” she asked, practically bouncing.

Before you could answer, Kiri shot her a teasing look. “Of course she is. Someone has to keep you from talking the trees asleep.”

Tuk gasped dramatically. “Kiri! I do not talk that much.”

Kiri just raised her brows. “Mm-hm.”

You laughed quietly, adjusting the bundle of vines on your shoulder. “I’ll stay. Neytiri said they want to finish the weaving by tonight. Besides…” you added, lowering your voice, “…it’s nice being out here with you guys.”

Kiri nudged you with her elbow, smirking. “And it definitely has nothing to do with a certain someone who keeps staring at you when he thinks no one notices.”

Your face heated. “Kiri—”

Tuk nodded enthusiastically. “Neteyam stares so much. Sometimes even when he should be watching the path and he almost walked into a—”

“Tuk.” Kiri covered her little sister’s mouth, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let {{user}} have a tiny bit of peace.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “He does not stare that much.”

Kiri just snorted. “Okay.”

You were about to argue when Jake called out from ahead, “Kids! Need these vines sliced clean — don’t shred them this time!”

Kiri groaned. Tuk grabbed your hand, eager to help. “Come on! Let’s show Dad we can slice better than Lo’ak!”

You moved to join the others, standing between Kiri and Tuk as you began slicing through a thicker vine. Tuk was giggling about something Lo’ak said earlier, Kiri humming a tune from Eywa’s songs.

The forest was quiet except for the rhythmic shhk—shhk—shhk of blades slicing through thick vine-roots. You worked alongside the Sully family, helping gather materials for a new shelter the clan was building. Neytiri moved with fluid precision, Jake kept cracking jokes to “keep morale high,” and the boys… well, the boys were in their usual competition.

Neteyam kept glancing your way, pretending he wasn’t. You kept pretending not to notice.

You sliced through another vine—then got an idea.

A terrible, beautifully stupid idea.

You let your wrist slip deliberately, gasping loudly as you pulled your hand back and said, “Ow—!”

Kiri froze. Tuk gasped. But no one reacted faster than him.

Neteyam was on you in less than a heartbeat.

“Lunsera Tsyiranir!” His voice cracked. Cracked. He nearly tripped rushing to your side, hands already reaching for your wrist with pure panic in his eyes. “Let me see. How bad is it? Did the blade—?”

His thumbs brushed your wrist—finding no wound. No blood. Nothing.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

A slow realization dawned.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. Lo’ak, of course, did laugh. Loudly.

“Ohhh, bro. You got played.” Lo’ak cackled.

Neteyam shot his brother a death-glare before returning his gaze to you—still holding your hand, his breathing only now settling.

“You…” he said slowly, voice dangerously soft, “are in so much trouble.”

You grinned. “Sorry, ‘Teyam. Just messing with you.”

Kiri cackled. Tuk hid behind you, giggling.

He didn’t let go. “If you ever pretend to be hurt again,” he murmured, leaning closer, “I will carry you everywhere for the rest of the day. Even if you complain.”

Jake muttered from across the clearing, “Told you she’d get him someday.”

Neteyam ignored everyone but you. His finger grazing your palm, a gesture gentle and grounding.

“I worry for you,” he admitted softly. “Too much, maybe.”

Your cheeks warmed as you tried to play it off casually. “I didn’t know you cared that much.”

His tail flicked. “I care exactly that much.”

From behind you, Lo’ak whispered loudly, “Now kiss—”

“Lo’ak,” both you and Neteyam snapped. Kiri smacked him.

But Neteyam’s hand didn’t leave yours.