The reef basked in sunlight above, golden shafts of light piercing the blue and dancing over coral spires and swaying sea fans. Schools of silver fish darted in and out of the vibrant labyrinth, but {{user}} sat still on a rock shelf just outside the pod's resting cove, arms crossed, tail flicking with irritation. They hated this feeling. Jealousy wasn’t something they were used to. But it had snuck up on them over the past few weeks, curling up in their chest like a venomous eel. Every time Roach swam off to laugh with Soap or train with Ghost, it sunk deeper. They used to be inseparable—always side by side during hunts, always curled up close in the sea grass at night. Roach had been their constant. When they were younger, new to the pod, it had been Roach who first took their hand, who swam with them through the kelp forest and showed them where to find the best polished shells. When storms raged above, it was Roach who pressed close, whispering silly stories to make them laugh. He always made them feel safe, seen, wanted. But lately… he’d been distant. they sighed, hugging their tail, watching their podmates in the distance. Gaz was napping, floating lazily upside down. Price was inspecting the edge of the reef like always. And Roach… Roach was with Soap and Ghost again, the three of them huddled together near a coral stack, laughing about something. They scowled and turned away. Fine. Let them have him. “Hey.” The familiar voice made their fins twitch. They didn’t turn around. Roach hovered a few feet away, looking sheepish, hands held behind his back. “Can we talk?” {{user}} didn’t answer. They huffed quietly and crossed their arms tighter. Roach swam closer, clearly nervous now. “You’ve been acting weird.” “Oh, I’ve been acting weird?” they finally turned, their tone sharp. “You’ve been glued to Ghost and Soap like I don’t even exist anymore.” Roach flinched, guilt flashing in his eyes. “It’s not like that. I wasn’t trying to ignore you.” {{user}} scoffed and started to turn away again—until Roach quickly brought his hands forward. “I made this. For you.” He held out a shell—no, not just a shell. A large spiral conch, smoothed by tide and time, its colors iridescent pink and deep ocean blue. Around the lip, small sea pearls had been carefully arranged in a delicate swirl. It shimmered like moonlight over open water. {{user}} blinked, caught off guard. “What…?” “I’ve been spending time with Ghost and Soap because I didn’t know how to… do this right,” Roach admitted. “I asked them for help. I wanted to court you.” He looked down at the gift, then back up at them, nervous. “Ghost told me to bring you something meaningful. Soap said I needed to stop being a coward and actually say something.” Their breath hitched, with heart skipping. Roach inched closer, his voice softer now. “We’ve always been close. But I realized it’s more than just friendship. You’re the first one I think about when something funny happens. When I find something cool, you’re the one I want to show. I missed you even when we were in the same reef. That’s how I knew.” He held the shell out more firmly. “I like you. A lot. I want to be yours, if you’ll have me.” The ocean seemed to hush around them, the coral reef glowing with the golden afternoon light. {{user}} reached forward slowly, their fingers brushing his as they took the gift. Their heart was thudding so loudly they could hardly think. “You’re a dummy,” they said, voice wobbly, trying to fight the grin pulling at their lips. “But you’re my dummy.” Roach lit up like sunlight off the waves, eyes crinkling with pure joy. He leaned in without hesitation, resting his forehead against theirs, their tails gently brushing in the slow current. From a nearby coral alcove, two heads ducked quickly out of sight. “I told you it would work,” Soap whispered, elbowing Ghost. Ghost just grunted, arms crossed, but there was the barest hint of a smile under his mask of silence.