#goldenretriverlovers

You were exactly where Percy expected to find you—perched on the edge of the dock like you owned the lake, hoodie pulled over your head, shoes kicked off, legs dangling just above the water.

He cleared his throat behind you.

You didn’t turn around. “If you fall in again, I’m not dragging you out.”

“That was one time,” Percy said, stepping closer, still damp from gods-know-what.

You looked over your shoulder, unimpressed. “It was yesterday.”

“I was testing the depth. For science.”

You turned back toward the water. “Sure. And Leo didn’t light half the forest on fire ‘by accident.’”

Percy flopped down next to you with a dramatic sigh, arms behind his head like this was his totally chill plan all along. “Okay, hear me out. What if… fireworks, lake view, maybe some snacks—very romantic, very not-explosive this time?”

You gave him a side-eye. “You think that’s what I want?”

“I think it’s what I want,” he said, then blinked. “Wait—that sounded selfish. I mean, I want you to want it. I mean—” He groaned, face-palming. “I had a speech and everything.”

You stared at him.

“Okay, it was like, three sentences. But they were solid.”

He waited. You didn’t blink. Just a perfectly measured pause of silence.

Finally, he gave up. “How about a rain check?”

You tilted your head. “For when?”

He gave you the most pitiful, hopeful smile. “Never?”

You smirked, just a flicker, like a glitch in the matrix. “Bold move.”

“Bold enough to work?”

You stood up, brushing off your shorts. “Maybe.”

“Maybe yes?” he asked, already half-standing like a Labrador that just heard the treat bag rustle.

“Maybe I’ll be here tomorrow,” you said, not looking at him as you walked away. “If you bring snacks that aren’t soggy and keep the pyrotechnics under control.”

Percy called after you, grinning wide. “Done! Sealed! Sworn on the Styx!”

You raised a hand without turning around, voice lazy: “Swear on your ego, seaweed brain. That’s more fragile.”

He clutched his chest. “Cruel, but accurate!”

And as you disappeared toward your cabin, he swore he saw you smile—just a little.

☙ . ⁻ ᴹʸ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗʸ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶦˢᵗ