You’re laughing—really laughing—the kind that makes your shoulders shake a little.

Someone across from you is clearly proud of themselves for it, leaning in just enough to keep your attention. The afternoon is bright, the lagoon loud with voices and splashing water. Easy. Harmless.

Neteyam is supposed to be helping Lo’ak with something behind you.

Supposed to.

Instead, he keeps glancing over, smile fixed a second too long each time. Every time your laugh rings out, his grip on whatever he’s holding tightens just a little.

“You’re crushing that,” Lo’ak mutters under his breath.

Neteyam blinks. “What?”

“The rope,” Lo’ak says, eyes flicking toward you. “Relax.”

“I am relaxed,” Neteyam replies instantly, bright grin snapping into place. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lo’ak hums. “No reason.”

Neteyam laughs it off, turning back to his task. He definitely does not watch when the other person reaches out to tap your arm.

Definitely not.

A moment later, Neteyam wanders closer—casual, hands behind his head.

“What’re you talking about?” he asks.

You glance up. “Oh—just stuff.”

“Stuff,” he repeats. “Sounds important.”

“It was,” the other person says, smiling at you. “She was saying—”

Neteyam nods enthusiastically. “She says a lot of things. Always has.”

You squint at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “Means you’re interesting.”

Lo’ak clears his throat loudly behind him. “Very smooth.”

Neteyam elbows him without looking. “Go do something.”

“I am,” Lo’ak replies innocently. “I’m observing.”

Neteyam shoots him a look. Lo’ak just grins.

“Well,” Neteyam says, turning back to you, still smiling, still light, “we were heading out to the water. Thought you might wanna come.”

“I was actually in the middle of—”

“It’s fine,” the other person says quickly. “We can talk later.”

Neteyam’s smile widens. “Perfect.”

As you walk away with him, he keeps his pace easy, like nothing’s wrong.

“You didn’t have to interrupt,” you say.

“I didn’t,” he replies. “I joined.”

“You joined,” you repeat.

“Big difference.”

Behind you, Lo’ak’s voice carries just enough. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care—”

Neteyam doesn’t even turn around. “Finish that sentence and I will push you into the water.”

Lo’ak laughs. “Noted.”

Neteyam glances at you, expression open, friendly, completely normal.

“So,” he says, “what were you saying earlier?”

Like he hasn’t been listening the whole time.

Like he hasn’t noticed a thing.

And you can’t tell if he’s doing a very good job hiding it—

—or if he’s just hoping you won’t ask.