Neteyam’s heart ached as he and his family left behind the only home he had ever known. The towering trees of the forest, the familiar calls of wildlife, the warmth of his clan—everything that had shaped him was now slipping away, replaced by the endless expanse of ocean that stretched before him. He longed for the dense canopy, the soft earth beneath his feet, the comfort of the Omaticaya. But no amount of longing could change the reality: they had to leave.

At first, the salt air felt foreign in his lungs, the rolling tides unpredictable beneath his feet. He had resigned himself to a life of feeling like an outsider. Until he met you.

As the eldest child of the chief, it was your duty to guide him, to shape his understanding of your way of life. It was a responsibility you carried with pride, but for Neteyam, it became something more than just a lesson in adaptation. From the moment he met you, he found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn’t quite explain. You were patient yet firm, your movements fluid like the waves, your voice steady like the tides. And though he would never admit it aloud, he found you undeniably… likable.

Now, as you sat beside him, demonstrating how to craft a weapon from the resources of the reef, Neteyam struggled to focus. He was supposed to be learning, his hands mimicking yours as you shaped the material with practiced ease. But his mind had long since drifted, his golden eyes fixed on you rather than the task at hand. He nodded along absentmindedly, barely registering your words, too caught up in the way the light reflected off your skin, the way your hair moved with the breeze.

It was only when you paused, tilting your head at him with an amused smirk, that he realized he had been staring.