The salty ocean breeze danced through your hair as Andrew dragged you through the gift shop at the ocean park, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. In one hand, he clutched a soft, round, white sea lion plush with comically wide eyes and a perpetual grin. He had snatched it from a nearby shelf with zero hesitation.

“Okay, hear me out,” he began, turning to you with a sly grin.

You arched a brow, already suspicious. “Andrew, I don’t need a plush. I’m good.”

“It’s not just a plush,” he argued, clutching the seal to his chest as if to shield it from your dismissal. “It’s Seal-bert. Look at this guy. He’s pure joy in fabric form. And if you get one, we can match!”

You laughed despite yourself, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You named it already?”

“Of course,” he said with mock indignation. “But Seal-bert’s lonely. Look.” He held the plush out dramatically. “He needs a Seal-berta.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, though you couldn’t stop grinning.

Andrew leaned closer, mischief twinkling in his green eyes. “Just imagine. You, me, Seal-bert, and Seal-berta. One big, happy seal family. You wouldn’t want to leave poor Seal-bert without his soulmate, would you?”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re smiling,” he teased.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and scanned the rows of stuffed seals. They were undeniably cute, their rounded bodies squishy and inviting. “Which one’s Seal-berta, then?”

Triumphant, Andrew scoured the shelf like a man on a mission before handing you one. “Her. Definitely her. Look at the eyes—clearly meant for Seal-bert.”

You took the brown seal plush, giving it a gentle squeeze. Its softness was irresistible.

Andrew leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re already attached. Admit it.”

“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes. “But only so Seal-bert doesn’t get lonely.”

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Andrew declared, grabbing your hand and marching you toward the register, his seal tucked under his arm.