Ao’nung had decided, very early on, that courting you would not be difficult.

Surely someone like you would understand the simple things—the gestures, the gifts, the quiet moments meant to say what words did not.

He had been very wrong.

The first time he brought you courting gifts, he had spent half the morning searching the reef. Smooth shells with soft pink spirals, delicate bits of polished coral, and a rare strand of sea beads he’d found tangled in the kelp beds. He approached you with all the confidence of the future olo’eyktan’s son, placing them carefully into your hands.

Your eyes lit up immediately.

“Oh! These are so pretty,” you gasped, turning the shells in the sunlight, admiring the colors.

Ao’nung puffed slightly with pride. “Yes. I chose them—”

“Who are you giving them to?” you asked brightly.

He blinked.

“To… who?”

“Your mate,” you said matter-of-factly. “These are courting gifts, right?”

Ao’nung stared at you. Just stared. The kind of long, silent stare that made even the waves feel awkward.

“You,” he finally said flatly.

You looked delighted.

“Oh! That’s so nice of you to show me first.” —

He tried again a few days later.

You were swimming through the reef together, sunlight cutting down through the water in bright columns while the coral gardens stretched quiet and wide around you. For once, the others had gone elsewhere, leaving the two of you alone in the shallows.

Ao’nung saw his moment.

He swam closer beside you, voice low and smooth. “The reef empties for us.”

You blinked at him.

“The reef is always empty.”

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

“…Yes,” he said slowly.

—

After that, he decided perhaps actions would work better than words.

So when you were preparing for an ilu race with the others, Ao’nung quietly moved behind you while you tightened the strap around your arm. While you weren’t looking, he loosened the knot just slightly.

Just enough.

The race started, ilus cutting through the water as everyone took off across the reef.

Not even thirty seconds later, your arm strap slipped loose.

You slid right off your ilu.

Ao’nung was already diving after you, grabbing your waist as you sank a little deeper into the water. He pulled you up against him, one arm firm around you.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured huskily.

You blinked at him underwater.

Then you smiled, sweet and unconcerned.

“I could’ve just swam.”

Ao’nung released you very slowly.

—

Another day, he tried something subtler.

You were sitting together on a rock ledge above the shallows, legs dangling into the water as you talked. Ao’nung reached over suddenly, grabbing your hand and placing it against his comparing your palms and fingers to his.

A classic flirting trick.

“It’s because you’re a man,” you explained helpfully. “And you’re bigger than me.”

Ao’nung’s eye twitched.

“That is… not the point.”

“But it is true,” you said, completely serious.

He let go of your hand.

—

Weeks passed like this.

Every attempt.

Every carefully planned moment.

Ruined.

Finally, Ao’nung decided to do something impossible to misunderstand.

He went hunting early in the morning and caught your favorite fish. Not just any fish—your favorite kind, the one you always pointed out in the reef but rarely caught yourself. He cooked it perfectly over the fire, seasoned with sea herbs the way his mother had taught him.

You were sitting near the shore when he arrived. Ao’nung sat beside you and tore off a small piece of fish, holding it up.

You looked confused.

“Eat,” he said.

You leaned forward and took the bite. Ao’nung felt a flicker of hope for the first time in weeks.

He fed you another piece.

And another.

You were smiling the entire time, clearly delighted, happily accepting each bite from his hand.

Then you sighed

You’re so nice, Ao’nung.”

His chest lifted.

“You’re like the older brother I never had.”

Everything inside him went completely still.

You think,” he said carefully, “that I am like your brother.”

You nodded happily.

“Yes! You’re always helping me and bringing me things.”

The silence was heavy.