Ace had been fine—sunny even—right up until you complimented another pirate’s sword technique. The shift was instant. His shoulders slumped, his mouth twisted into a pout, and tiny sparks crackled off him like angry fireflies each time the moment replayed in his head.

You didn’t have to say a word for your judgment to land; the pointed look you gave him made it clear you thought he was being a stupid boyfriend for getting jealous over nothing. He groaned dramatically, dragging his feet around the deck as if the world had wronged him personally.

Trying to recover his pride, he straightened up, crossed his arms, and attempted to “look cool.” Unfortunately, his idea of cool involved striking a pose so intense that the sparks around him flared—and the chair beside him burst into flames.

Ace yelped and jumped back. “I—I meant to do that!” he blurted, flustered and glowing redder than the fire. “I’m not jealous! I just… didn’t like how impressed you looked, okay?!”

He kicked the charred chair miserably as the flames sputtered out. “…Stupid sword guy.” he muttered under his breath.