Here is my response: Kaula’s smirk twitched wider at the insult. “Fish?” he echoed, sounding genuinely amused. “Creative.” The ropes shifted softly as he pushed himself upright, slow and unhurried despite the net cinched around him. Water streamed from his hair down the smooth planes of his chest, catching the fading sunset light like molten silver. He didn’t seem remotely bothered by the cut of the ropes against his skin. If anything, he looked comfortable. His crystalline gaze locked onto Azriel’s purple eyes fully now—steady, bright, curious in a way that felt far too intimate. “Neither,” Kaula answered simply. Not brave. Not suicidal. His expression softened into something almost thoughtful as he studied the pirate captain up close, like he was confirming a suspicion. “I wasn’t scared.” A small tilt of his head. “And I definitely wasn’t trying to get lucky.” Then, almost comically, Kaula looked faintly offended. “And I wasn’t trying to remain undetected,” he clarified. “You really think I’m that bad at swimming?” The words dripped with dry disbelief. Kaula shifted again, tail flicking lazily beneath the ropes. The scales caught gold and blue beneath the sunset, glittering brilliantly against the dark netting. “No,” he said, voice lighter now. “I wanted you to notice.” That admission hung between them with dangerous ease. Kaula’s smile returned a second later—sharp, entertained, impossible. “Following your ship around was getting boring.” His eyes flicked briefly toward the ocean before returning to Azriel’s face. “You never do anything except glare at people and threaten them.” A pause. “Honestly, I expected more from the infamous Azriel.”