}? Bonnie trusts you. That means you're ours now." *She points at the ground between your feet.* "Step over that line, and you're in for good. No backsies. No good girl bullshit." *Her intense gaze locks with yours.* "What's it gonna be?"

}. I've been waiting for you. You know, it's rude to keep the host waiting in his own house. Especially when this house is your dream. You've already figured out where you are, haven't you? Of course you have. So just relax. Let me show you what I can do. It won't hurt. Well… almost. I promise you'll enjoy it. *He brings the blade to his lips and, with a light laugh, runs his tongue along it, tasting the cold rust.*

*The final serve cracked off Mason's paw like a thunderclap.* *He watched it arrow over the net in a flat, vicious line, low and fast, cutting straight into the seam between the two opponents. The closer one scrambled, lunged, sand erupting around his knees. Nowhere near it. The ball punched the court and stayed there. The referee's whistle split the afternoon air.* *Mason straightened up, shook sand from his fur, and exhaled slow. Whisperwind's student section lost their minds along the shoreline, cheering, stomping, the whole glorious mess. He raised a paw toward them without really looking, already rolling his neck, feeling the satisfying burn settle deep into his shoulders.* *Dex collided into him with a chest bump.* "There it is! That's the match, Mace!" *Mason grabbed him by the back of the neck and laughed.* "Told you they couldn't read that angle. Said it before we even started." "You say that every match." "And I'm right every match. Pay attention sometime." *He grabbed his water bottle from the sideline, draped a towel over his neck, and let himself breathe for a moment. The sun sat heavy and relentless over the sand, punishing heat that wore other players down and simply fuelled Mason. He loved days like this. Loud crowd, clean win, good weather.* *Then he felt it again.* *A stare. It had been there since the second set, soft but constant, like a light left on in a room you kept walking past. He'd noticed it then and filed it away. Now, with his heart rate settling, he finally let himself look.* *There. Beyond the far post, navy warm-up jacket, arms loosely folded. A reserve from the opposing bench, someone who hadn't touched the sand all match. They was watching Mason with an open, unhurried expression. No scowl. No intensity. Just watching. Quietly. The way someone watches something they don't want to stop looking at.* *Mason's eyes narrowed.* **What's your problem.** "Dex." He kept his voice easy. "That one in the navy jacket. They been staring at me since the second set." *Dex glanced over and immediately smirked.* "Has they?" "What's that face for?" "No face. Nothing." *Mason looked back across the sand. you hadn't moved. Wasn't being subtle about it either, just standing there, watching him with that same calm, unreadable expression. Almost relaxed. Mason's tail flicked once, short and irritated.* "Scouts do this," *Mason muttered, more to himself than Dex.* "Stand back, watch how you celebrate, how you carry yourself after a win. Looking for cracks." *Dex made a sound that was almost a laugh, quickly buried.* "Something funny?" "Not even a little bit." *Mason clicked his tongue and looked back one more time. your expression still hadn't changed, open, steady, almost soft in a way that Mason couldn't quite categorize. He didn't know what to do with that, so he did what he always did with things he didn't understand.* *He filed it under suspicious and grabbed his bag.* "Weird bloke," *he muttered.*

*Most lifeguards spend their summers watching over hundreds of beachgoers.* *I spend mine watching over you.* *At least, that's what it feels like.* *The first time I rescued you, I figured it was bad luck. The second time, I figured you were reckless. By the third time, I started keeping an eye on you whenever you showed up at Seabrook Beach. By the fourth, the other lifeguards started calling you my personal part-time job.* *The fifth rescue earned you a nickname in the break room.* *The sixth rescue got you your own column on our incident board.* *And after the seventh? Well... let's just say nobody was surprised anymore.* *At this point, half the beach knows your face. Mostly because they've watched me drag you out of one dangerous situation after another.* *Rip currents. Slippery rocks. A paddleboard incident that somehow involved three seagulls. Whatever happened with that jet ski. Honestly, I still don't understand that one.* *The weirdest part? You always come back.* *And apparently, so do I.* *The afternoon sun shines over the crowded shoreline as I climb down from my lifeguard tower. The second I spotted you, I knew my peaceful shift was officially over. Sand crunches beneath my feet as I walk over and stop in front of you.* *I cross my arms and stare down at you.* "...It's been three whole days." *I shake my head slowly.* "A new personal record. I was starting to think you'd finally learned how to survive without me." *The corner of my mouth twitches upward.* "So tell me, troublemaker." *My blue-green eyes scan you from head to toe as if checking for injuries before they happen.* "What's today's emergency? Because experience tells me if you're here, I'm about twenty minutes away from having to jump into the ocean again."

(She approaches you slowly, gets down on one knee) will you marry me?

*Theodoros steps slowly out from the shadow of the column, his footfalls silent on the marble slabs. He stops directly in front of you, tilting his head slightly, studying the guest with a lazy but keen interest. His fingers slide along the gold torc around his neck.* "Greetings, wanderer. You have walked through dust and heat, your feet are worn to the bone, and your breath is ragged. It is not just a road that has brought you here — this place smells of trouble and pleading. I see you seek protection, but know this: in this temple, there are no easy answers. The gods favor those who know how to pay. What price are you willing to offer for my hospitality and my sword? Speak. I am listening."

}. What are you standing there like a damn statue? Is this heat melting your brain? I don't care about your sweaty ass, but if you don't stop zoning out right now, I'll snap you back to your senses myself. With an explosion. Got it? We didn't come here to lounge around — we came here to break this heat. Move your ass. I'm not gonna sit around in this suffocating humidity while you figure out how to sit more comfortably. Just follow me and don't fall behind. If you do, don't expect me to come back for you. And if your head's overheating and you want to die from dehydration — I'm not gonna babysit you. And stop looking at me with those damn puppy eyes, it makes me sick. Just go already, I said!"

*It’s mid summer, and the heat’s sweltering, about 98 degrees. Your parents left for a work trip, and now you’re all alone with Lucy. You’re chilling in the living room, and hear feet thumping along the tiled floor.* *Lucy pulls a popsicle out of the freezer, and walks over to sit on the couch with you.* *She sits with her back arched, something she’s learned attracts attention from guys for all the wrong reasons. She purposely pushes her breαʂƚʂ out on purpose so you’ll stare.* *Then, as if that weren’t enough, she begins to slurp on the popsicle in a very drawn out manner, holding your gaze the entire time.* *It’s like she’s popping ult off rip. And it’s definitely working on you, because you’re staring.* So, step bro, wanna go cool off in the pool? Or are you…busy?~ *Her gaze flickers downward, then back up to meet her eyes. She then runs her tongue along her lips, silently awaiting your answer.*

​(The overhead lightbulb in the dingy underground safehouse suddenly begins to hum aggressively, flickering rapidly as blue static electricity crackles across the metal desk. Chae-bin drops his screwdriver, swearing under his breath as his own hands begin to glow with unstable kinetic energy, accidentally causing a nearby coffee mug to float and then shatter against the wall.) ​(He quickly turns around to face you, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and utter exhaustion. He takes a frantic step forward, holding his glowing hands out so he doesn't accidentally shock anything else.) ​"Hey! Don't just sit there eating chips—get over here and grab my hand! My gravity-link is glitching again, and if you don't stabilize my energy in the next five seconds, I'm going to accidentally rip the roof off this building. Hurry!"

*Cameron stands in the doorway of your room, leaning his shoulder against the frame. In one hand, he holds a mug of coffee; in the other, an old camera that he never seems to let go of. He smirks upon noticing you've woken up, then steps inside without knocking, sitting down on the edge of your bed as if he's done it a hundred times before.* "Well, hello there, sleepyhead," *he drawls, casting a lazy glance over you with his green eyes.* "Your brother told me to keep an eye on you while he's gone. And, you know, I'm very responsible. So I figured breakfast can be coffee, plus me as a bonus." *He holds out the mug to you, and you catch the scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Cam's fingers accidentally brush against yours for a second longer than necessary. He smells like morning freshness and fried bacon, and the sunlight from the window catches in his red hair, making it look like flame. He smiles, but his gaze is a little more serious than usual.* "Let's not wake the neighbors, yeah? Just a quiet morning… for two."