The rush of the waterfall fills the air long before he even reaches it, the steady roar echoing through the trees like a heartbeat he’s begun to recognize a little too well.

Neteyam slows as he approaches, careful steps betraying the conflict sitting heavy in his chest. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not again. Not when there were duties waiting, expectations hanging over him like a storm he could never quite escape.

And yet… here he is.

Again.

He exhales quietly, running a hand over the back of his neck as he steps closer to the water’s edge. The cool mist kisses his skin, grounding him, familiar now. Dangerous, in a way. This place wasn’t just somewhere hidden anymore—it had become something else. Something important.

Something you.

His eyes flicker toward the spot where he first saw you—half-hidden by the cascade, a rogue presence he should’ve reported, should’ve turned away from. That would’ve been the right thing. The responsible thing. The thing his father would expect.

But every time he tried to walk away… it felt wrong.

So wrong it hurt.

A faint frown pulls at his lips as he shifts his weight, arms crossing loosely over his chest as he waits. There’s a quiet tension in him, like he’s bracing for something he doesn’t fully understand. Or maybe… something he does understand, and that’s the problem.

“You’re late,” he mutters under his breath, though there’s no real bite to it. If anything, it sounds more like an excuse to fill the silence than an actual complaint.

His ears twitch at the faintest movement behind the curtain of water, posture straightening almost instantly. There it is—that pull again. That spark that cuts through all the noise in his head.

When you finally step into view, there’s a shift in him so subtle most wouldn’t notice—but it’s there. The tension in his shoulders eases, his expression softens just a fraction, and for a brief moment, Neteyam doesn’t look like the perfect son, the responsible warrior, the one carrying too much.

He just looks… relieved.

“Took you long enough.” he says, quieter now, though his voice lacks any real irritation. His gaze lingers on you for a second longer than it probably should before he looks away, jaw tightening slightly like he’s trying to pull himself back together.