Chapter Text
It was the beginning of his last summer as a middle schooler when Neteyam first saw the Tsikau family move in next door. It had been unbearably hot that day, the type of heat that made living fifteen minutes away from the beach useless. Thankfully, his parents didn’t protest when he had slipped away to be in his room all afternoon listening to music.
He had found some of his Dad’s old CDs while cleaning out the garage earlier that week, along with his old stereo. They had been collecting dust, and Neteyam was not one to pass up the opportunity to go analog. Jake called it stealing, Neteyam called it the “That’s what you get for making your eldest son do the heavy lifting” tax.
They eventually agreed to disagree.
He always caught slack from Kiri about being off the grid. His parents promised him his own cell phone once he started high school, but he could’ve done without it. Something about living in the moment and being untethered, or whatever excuse he’d give to get her off his back.
He was finishing the final book on his freshman summer reading list when it happened.
Wuthering Heights was propped open flat on his bed, his fingers holding the pages down against the warm breeze that would come in from his open window here and there. He leaned his head onto his open palm, eyes feeling heavier by the second.
Neteyam turned another page with a sigh. He didn’t even dislike reading. Actually, he loved it. What he hated was when every assigned book portrayed emotional repression as a personality trait. Apparently, British authors considered that peak literature to inflict on young scholars trying to read something fun for once.
After trudging through the last sentence, he shut the book with a very satisfying thump, sliding himself off the bed for a celebratory stretch. Hunching over so long had his spine aching in a way he knew he’d be paying for years down the line.
Besides, he had officially reached his limit of emotionally constipated people wandering across windy hills.
He crouched beside the old stereo, flipping through another stack of his Dad’s CDs when his bedroom door flew open hard enough to hit the wall.
“BRO—did you see?!”
Neteyam fumbled the CD in his hand, nearly dropping it onto the hardwood floor as he turned his head towards the door, mouth agape.
“Great Mother, Lo’ak!” he groaned, pressing a hand to his chest. “What is wrong with you?”
His brother could’ve phased through the floor the way he was vibrating with excitement, fingers gripping the doorway like it was physically impossible to stand still.
“They’re moving in right now!”
Neteyam paused, tilting his head and furrowing his brows.
“Who?”
“The new neighbors!” Lo’ak looked personally offended that he even had to explain himself. “Like, right now, right now. There’s a whole moving truck outside, bro.”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
If Lo’ak had knocked at his door like a normal person, he probably would have listened to whatever he had to say. But being the petty older brother he was, Neteyam gave him an unimpressed shrug, turning back towards the stereo like he was already exhausted from the conversation.
“Don’t care.”
Which was a lie. A very obvious lie, judging by the look Lo’ak gave him.
Lo’ak narrowed his eyes suspiciously for another second before sighing dramatically and disappearing back downstairs, no doubt already spreading the news around the house.
Neteyam sat there for another second, waiting for the sound of his little brother’s footsteps to disappear before he made his way toward the open window.
The house next door had been empty for months now. The old neighbors barely spoke to anyone while they lived there anyway. Most days, it looked abandoned, the dark windows and overgrown hedges curling onto their side of the fence. Sometimes, entire weeks passed where Neteyam forgot someone even owned the place.
Outside, a large moving truck sat parked crookedly along the curb beneath the late afternoon sun. Its back doors were hanging wide open, cardboard boxes already surrounding the opening. Voices drifted faintly as Neteyam leaned slightly against the window frame, trying to get a better look.
The driver stepped out first, not that he had to try very hard to spot him.
He was huge. Easily a whole head taller than his father, his broad shoulders were stretched tight underneath a pale button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even from the second-story window, the stern look and impeccable posture screamed military to Neteyam.
Either that or this guy just threw around boulders for fun.
A second later, the man rounded the truck to open the passenger side door for someone who was presumably his wife. She stepped out gracefully, long black waves cascading down her back as she swept them behind her shoulders. Their conversation carried too softly across the yard for Neteyam to understand, though he recognized the familiar sound of his father’s voice greeting them from the driveway below.
Jake Sully had never met a stranger in his entire life, living for having long-winded conversations about nothing. He could see it now, his dad standing there in basketball shorts and flip-flops with the same goofy smile Lo’ak inherited.
Something unfamiliar twisted quietly in Neteyam’s chest as more of the family stepped out of the truck.
They were Na’vi, which wasn’t unusual in coastal California cities like this one. There were plenty of Na’vi families mixed throughout nowadays.
But Metkayina? Here? Now, that was rare. From what he knew, the Metkayina pride themselves on their close-knit communities back on Pandora. Most families stayed close to their homes their entire lives.
Which made the family's move into a quiet suburban neighborhood feel strangely out of place.
His father shook hands with the taller man while making small talk near the driveway below, the man towering over Jake enough to make the encounter look ridiculous. However, he didn't seem nervous in the slightest. Typical.
Behind them, two of their children climbed out from the truck.
Neteyam noticed the girl first.
Long dark curls spilled over her shoulders while sunlight flashed against the gold jewelry layered across her wrists. She smiled politely at something Jake said, deep dimples appearing instantly on her cheeks.
She was pretty. An effortless kind of pretty he could spot from miles away.
The second the girl smiled at the youngest Sully, Tuk practically lit up at the thought of another makeover victim. She took off running across the lawn at full speed, her little braids flying behind her. The Metkayina girl, however, didn’t seem bothered at all as Tuk immediately started talking her ear off with the emotional intensity only a six year old would possess.
Lo’ak, however, had gone completely still underneath Neteyam’s window.
Neteyam immediately noticed the panic, an eager grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, this is gonna be good.”
Lo’ak smoothed both hands nervously over the front of his shirt before attempting what was probably meant to be a nonchalant walk across the driveway. Instead, he tripped halfway across the driveway over absolutely nothing there.
Neteyam had to cover his face with his hands. Lo’ak had only recently discovered girls were an actual thing, so he figured there were bound to be a few bumps in the road.
But this, this was catastrophic. He couldn’t help but groan through his fingers. Hopefully, their father hadn’t noticed, Eywa knew Jake would be telling this story at every function for the next twenty years otherwise.
The Pretty Girl laughed softly, covering her mouth politely while Tuk collapsed beside her into hysterics on the Sully’s lawn. Ever the sweetheart, she reached down immediately to help Lo’ak back up on his feet, smiling patiently while he stumbled through what looked like the most painfully awkward introduction in human history.
Neteyam shook his head slightly, recovering from the secondhand embarrassment. Poor kid never stood a chance.
Then his attention drifted elsewhere. Something was moving in the corner of his eye.
A boy stepped out from behind the moving truck carrying two cardboard boxes, stacked easily against his chest like they weighed nothing. Neteyam raised an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t even noticed him gather the boxes in the first place, which was rather unusual for him.
See, Netyam noticed people.
Not in a weird way, obviously. He just liked understanding them. Their habits, their tells. You know, the tiny things people do without realizing it. Something about it made the world feel more predictable somehow. Safer.
Like the way his father would scratch the side of his nose every time before he had to tell his kids he'd be gone for a few days at the station. Or when Loak’s right index finger would twitch before throwing whatever was in his hand towards his face.
The usual.
The first thing Neteyam noticed was that the boy was taller than Pretty Girl, though it looked like he still had growing left to do if his father was any reference. Broad shoulders strained lightly beneath a faded dark shirt, while loose curls had been pulled back into a rough bun above his head that looked rushed and half-done.
Then he smiled toward the Sullys. Those effortless smiles carefree people have, where no matter the occasion, they could belong where they stood.
Neteyam envied people like that, everything in life just falling into place because of a pretty smile. Unfortunately for him, he got his mother's charisma, which mostly just meant people thought he was pissed off half the time.
The boy’s attention drifted toward the small disaster happening near the driveway first, lingering briefly on Lo’ak and Tsireya before his gaze lifted upward.
Straight toward Neteyam’s window.
It lasted maybe a second. Still, Neteyam straightened instinctively beneath the sudden weight of his turquoise eyes meeting his own. His stomach weirdly flipped in a way he chose to ignore. The boy raised an eyebrow slightly before looking away again, adjusting the seemingly weightless boxes in his arms as if he hadn’t caught him staring.
“Ma’tsmuke,” he called loudly toward Pretty Girl. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”
His voice carried deeper than Neteyam expected.
Tsireya gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest.
“I am helping!”
“Talking to strangers isn’t helping, Reya.”
She pouted instantly, like she had perfected the expression through years of muscle memory alone. She tossed a handful of curls over her shoulder, gesturing towards Tuk, still attached to her hip.
“Ma’Nungie, clearly I’m being socially helpful.”
Tuk nodded seriously beside her, already looking at Tsireya with the admiration you usually reserve for pop stars, or older cousins that let you play with their makeup.
Neteyam laughed at the ridiculousness of the scene before he could stop himself. The sound had escaped too quickly, and almost instantly it seemed as if everyone's eyes collectively lifted toward his window.
Great. He could feel the regret settle in his stomach, heavy and unpleasant like the herbal medicine his Grandmother practically forced down his throat every time she visited.
This time, the boy looked openly amused, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, like he’d just discovered something interesting.
“Neteyam!”
Jake’s voice snapped him out of whatever trance he was in immediately.
Neteyam blinked hard before leaning a little farther out the window. His father stood near the driveway now, shielding his eyes from the sun while looking up toward the house.
“Come help your mother bring drinks outside, kid!”
Neteyam sighed quietly through his nose, restraining himself from talking back.
“Yeah, okay!”
Reluctantly, he pushed himself away from the window before heading downstairs. The stairway walls were crowded with years' worth of family photos, most of them crooked because nobody in the Sully house knew how to hang things properly. His favorite was still the one from the boardwalk last summer.
Jake had been crouched in the sand holding Tuk dramatically against his face while she laughed and protested at the same time, tiny hands pushing uselessly against his cheeks. Behind them, Lo’ak and Neteyam had their arms slung around each other’s shoulders with matching smiles way too wide for their faces. Neytiri stood beside them all, with one hand wrapped around Lo’ak’s arm while wind pulled strands of her dark hair across her face.
It had been a really good day.
The kitchen smelled faintly of citrus and fresh-cut fruit when Neteyam stepped inside. Neytiri stood near the counter, slicing apples quietly while several glasses of deep-purple herbal tea waited beside her, condensation dripping down the sides.
Neteyam made sure to grab the tray carefully. The drink was definitely one of his mother’s recipes from home. He could never remember the actual name. Only that it tasted vaguely like flowers and somehow fixed literally every problem, according to Neytiri.
He sighed, already dreading the idea of small talk.
“Be nice,” she warned smoothly without looking up. She knew her eldest better than he knew himself.
Neteyam took offense immediately.
“I’m always nice, Mother.”
“No,” Neytiri corrected calmly. “You are polite. Completely different.”
Neteyam rolled his eyes automatically, balancing the tray against his hip before stepping outside into the thick summer heat.
————————————————
Everything got louder the closer Neteyam walked.
Voices overlapped somewhere near the driveway while boxes scraped against concrete, and Tuk’s laughter carried over everybody else’s like it usually did. The tray of drinks felt colder against his palms the longer he held it—a silent prayer to Eywa to open a rift in the ground and swallow him whole.
He waited a second for the natural disaster. Guess, the Great Mother had different plans. Ever the people pleaser, he straightened automatically as he approached the adults, their details standing out more as he got up close.
“Sir. Ma’am,” he greeted politely, holding the tray out slightly toward the Metkayina couple. “Would either of you like some tea?”
Tonowari was huge. Like genuinely unfairly huge. The intricate tattoo stretching across his face only made him look more intimidating somehow, though his eyes looked kinder than Neteyam expected. Beside him, Ronal carried herself with the kind of sharp, effortless confidence that made Neteyam stand straighter without even realizing it.
Jake clapped a heavy hand onto his shoulder, looking towards the two. “This is my eldest, Neteyam,” he said proudly, like he hadn’t already introduced all his children to the neighborhood a thousand times before. “He’s fourteen. Same age as your boy, right?”
Tonowari nodded while accepting one of the drinks from the tray. He gave Neteyam a calm smile, nodding his head in thanks.
“That’s right.”
Jake nudged Neteyam lightly toward them.
“Kid, this is Tonowari and Ronal Tsikau.”
Neteyam gave a polite smile, the one Jake and Neytiri had him practice for the last 14 years of his life. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
Ronal nodded, giving Neteyam an observant once-over.
“Very nice to meet you, young man.”
Tonowari looked between his children and the Sullys gathered nearby. “My children are very eager to make friends.” He said easily. “How about you head over?”
Neteyam was about to do just that when Tuk nearly collided into him at full speed, wrapping tiny hands onto his arm hard enough to make the drinks wobble dangerously.
“Tuk,” he hissed under his breath, trying not to spill the tea all over himself. As always, she ignored him completely.
“Neteyam!” she beamed excitedly while dragging him further down the lawn. “This is Tsireya!”
“I figured,” he answered awkwardly.
Tsireya laughed softly at that, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
Suddenly aware of how stupid he probably looked just standing there holding drinks like a waiter, Neteyam awkwardly lifted the tray slightly toward her.
“Uh… do you want one?”
“Thank you,” She smiled warmly while reaching for a glass.
Up close, Neteyam noticed the tiny gold charms dangling from the bracelets stacked on her wrists. He smiled, nodding towards them, “I like your bracelets, they’re pretty cool.”
Tsireya perked up instantly.
“Oh! Thanks. My uncle makes jewelry back home.” She held her wrist up proudly. “Actually, he made most of these. My family says gold looks better with my complexion than silver does, but I still think silver’s prettier sometimes—”
Neteyam quietly listened to her as she continued her rambling, nodding along here and there. Honestly, he didn’t mind people who talked a lot—listening occupied his brain in a way that felt strangely calming. People became easier to understand when they kept talking long enough.
Okay, he swore he was paying attention. Honest.
But something warm drifted past his nose.
It smelled like sunscreen and coconut, no, sea salt? Whatever it was, it smelled ridiculously good. A little too good, now that he thought about it.
“Took you long enough.”
Neteyam whipped his head around.
The older brother leaned casually against the moving truck a few feet away now, one arm resting against the side while sunlight caught against warm brown skin and loose curls falling free from his bun. Up close, he looked older than Neteyam first thought.
Not by much, but just enough to feel unfair.
Neteyam blinked once. Then maybe a couple of times after, because apparently his brain stopped wanting to function properly.
“Sorry?”
The corner of the boy’s mouth lifted slightly, clearly entertained.
“You’ve been watching from your window this whole time.”
Heat crawled instantly up Neteyam’s neck.
Not because the accusation was true.
Well.
Mostly because it was true.
“No, I wasn’t—I just—”
“Relax, cuz,” the boy laughed easily, pushing himself away from the truck's side. “I’m kidding.” His voice carried that same ocean-smoothed ease that everything else about him seemed to have.
He held out a hand casually.
“Ao’nung.”
Neteyam shifted the drink tray awkwardly against his hip before shaking his hand. He was met with a warm palm and overly calloused fingers. His grip was firm, annoyingly confident like the rest of him.
“Right,” Neteyam laughed nervously. “I’m Neteyam.”
“I know.” He said, grabbing a drink from the tray.
Neteyam tried very hard not to notice how ridiculously small the glass looked in his hand. Or the quiet hum in his throat after the first sip.
“Mm. That’s good.’
Neteyam swallowed hard. The heat was starting to get to him.
Of course, he knew his name. Tuk had probably shouted everyone’s identities loud enough for the neighboring cities to hear by now.
Before the silence could settle naturally, Lo’ak suddenly shoved himself directly between them and snatched the last drink off the tray. Neteyam scoffed, about to reprimand him that the drinks were for guests, when his brother decided to pipe up.
“I skateboard, by the way.” He said a smidge too loudly, fumbling the straw with his tongue in an attempt to get it into his mouth.
Neteyam closed his eyes in anticipation. Not this again.
Lo’ak only ever acted like this when he discovered a new personality trait to base his entire existence around for the next three months. Last time it had been surfing. Before that, bass guitar. Before that, an extremely unfortunate parkour phase that nearly ended with Jake filing an insurance claim.
“...Congratulations?” Aonung responded, giving him a confused look.
Tsireya attempted to hide a smile.
“No, like,” Lo’ak straightened, “I’m actually good. There’s this hill near the park, and I can almost land this one trick—”
“Almost,” Neteyam repeated under his breath.
Lo’ak shot him a murderous glare.
“Well, you did bust your lip the last time you tried,” Neteyam explained.
“That was ONE time, Teyam.”
“Bro, you were crying.”
“That’s a normal human response to pain!” Lo’ak began to whine, and Neteyam swore that if he wasn’t older, he’d stomp his foot.
“It was essentially a paper cut.” He explained to the group, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face.
“I was bleeding, skxawng!”
“I think you needed a little more blood than that to medically classify it as an injury.”
There was a pause before the entire group burst into laughter.
Tsireya laughed outright while Tuk held her stomach on the floor, hyperventilating between hysterics. Ao’nung snorted into his drink, letting out a small chuckle.
Neteyam took notice of Ao’nung’s laugh a little too quickly. It was deep and warm. The kind that settled low in somebody’s chest and lingered there for a second afterward, like humming part of a song.
It was funny how he noticed little things about him.
“Lo’ak!” Jake yelled suddenly from somewhere near the garage. “Quit flirting and come help me with this!”
“I’M NOT FLIRTING!” His brother screamed, forcing the drink into Neteyam’s hand to hold. Great, he really was on butler duty.
Jake laughed loudly from somewhere outside Neteyam’s line of sight.
“Try not to fall this time!”
Ah. So he had noticed.
Lo’ak’s face turned violently red while Tsireya tried unsuccessfully to hide another smile.
Tuk immediately pointed her taunting finger at him, shaking it back and forth.
“Lo’ak likes a girl! Lo’ak likes a girl!”
“Tuk,” Neteyam warned automatically, bumping her lightly with his hip. He knew this would only add fuel to Lo’ak’s eventual revenge on her for teasing him. As the eldest, correcting his feral siblings like this was muscle memory by now.
“Sorry, Nete,” she whined dramatically before clinging to his arm for forgiveness, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster. Neteyam clicked his tongue softly as he gripped her small chin and scrunched up his nose at her with a smile.
Meanwhile, Lo’ak looked seconds away from walking directly into traffic as he muttered curses beneath his breath and stormed toward the garage.
Ao’nung watched him go with narrowed eyes before glancing sideways toward Tsireya.
“You always attract the weird ones, don’t you, Ma’tsmuke?”
Tsireya shrugged serenely.
“I’m charming,” she sighed, placing a hand on her cheek and posing for an invisible camera.
“Debatable.”
She pouted again, hands on her hips as she rolled her eyes once again.
“Wow. Okay.” She pointed at him accusingly with her drink. “I’m going to go help Ma since apparently I’m not appreciated here.”
“Well, you were never helping to begin with!” Ao’nung called after her, in the tone annoying older brothers usually have.
Tsireya ignored him completely, grabbing onto Tuk’s hand as she wandered back toward the Sully driveway where Ronal was. Tuk followed immediately, still talking at full speed while Tsireya nodded along patiently like she’d known her longer than fifteen minutes.
Neteyam smiled to himself as he watched them interact. It was nice to witness how the other siblings interacted – the teasing and familiarity layered over genuine affection reminded him of his own family.
He glanced towards Ao’nung, only to see that Ao’nung was already glancing at him in return. Like he’d been waiting to see if Neteyam would laugh too.
Warmth settled beneath his ribs. That was weird.
Then, Ao’nung nodded towards the moving truck behind him, shifting the conversation so naturally that it made Neteyam wonder if he imagined the look entirely.
“We still have, like, half our house left in there,” he said, wincing as he sucked air in through his teeth. “My parents are making us unpack everything decorative tomorrow.”
Neteyam snorted softly, raising his eyebrows. “Sounds like a tragically good time.”
“It’s actually horrible,” Ao’nung corrected seriously. “There are at least four boxes labeled ‘bathroom,’ and somehow they all weigh the same as an adolescent elephant.”
Neteyam couldn't help but laugh. “Maybe your family is just stockpiling a concerning amount of soap.”
“Maybe my mother’s secretly transporting bricks across state lines.”
“I like your theory better.”
Ao’nung huffed out another laugh under his breath before glancing back toward the truck again. The corner of Ao’nung’s mouth lifted slightly again.
“You should come help.”
Neteyam's throat suddenly felt very dry. Damn this summer heat.
“...What?”
“Tomorrow,” Ao’nung repeated, like inviting strangers over was something he did all the time. “You can help me set up my room.”
There was probably a cool, perfectly normal response to that.
Unfortunately, Neteyam’s brain seemed to shut down the second Ao’nung looked directly at him again.
“Oh!”
Outstanding. Neteyam Sully, everybody.
Ao’nung laughed quietly once more, low and warm enough to make Neteyam irrationally annoyed with himself all over again.
“You busy or something?”
“No,” Neteyam answered immediately. Too immediately. “I mean–not really, I’d have to check. Probably not.”
Ao’nung’s grin widened slightly, Neteyam praying to the Great Mother he hadn’t noticed the stumble.
“Cool.”
There was a short pause afterward where neither of them looked away immediately. Neteyam suddenly became hyperaware of literally everything around him. The heat outside, the cold tray tucked under his arm, Ao’nung standing way too close for comfort.
He was about to excuse himself when Ao’nung glanced down toward the tray.
“You always carry drinks around for strangers, or should I feel special?”
Neteyam gave him a questioning look, then laughed.
“My mother made me.”
“Ah.” Ao’nung nodded knowingly. “So you’re obedient.”
Neteyam scoffed. “With my mother, it's more of a life or death situation.”
“That’s probably smart,” Ao’nung admitted. “My mom’s terrifying, too.”
“Good to know that’s universal.”
Ao’nung smiled again.
And for some reason, Neteyam couldn’t stop noticing it every time.
————————————————
The rest of the evening blurred together after that.
Boxes slowly disappeared into the Tsikau house while the adults lingered near the driveway, talking like they’d known each other for years already. Jake laughed too loudly at something Tonowari said while Neytiri and Ronal stood nearby exchanging the kind of polite conversation mothers seemed biologically programmed to have with one another.
Somewhere farther down the street, somebody started grilling while cicadas buzzed loudly beneath the fading summer heat. Porch lights flickered on one by one across the neighborhood as the sky slowly darkened overhead.
And through all of it, that faint scent of saltwater still lingered around the Tsikau family.
By the time Jake finally called everyone inside for dinner, the sky had already darkened completely.
The kitchen smelled warm and earthy by then, filled with the familiar smell of root vegetables and some spicy herb paste Neytiri used for almost everything. A large wooden bowl of stew sat in the center, along with grilled flatbread brushed with oil and herbs from her garden outside.
Neteyam dropped into his chair while Loak basically collapsed into the seat across him, mourning the loss of his reputation. Lo’ak couldn’t stop pretending he hadn’t completely humiliated himself in front of the new neighbors, and Tuk took that as a challenge.
There was silence for maybe ten seconds.
“Lo’ak likes the new girl,” She spoke, taking a sip out of her cup.
Lo’ak froze, his spoonful of stew wavering in the air.
“She’s pretty,” Tuk continued, kicking her legs under her chair. “And she smells good. Like the pineapple upside-down cake Granny makes for Christmas.”
“Shut up, Tuk,” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face as the tip of his ears went red.
“What? She does!” She whined, looking around the table in confusion.
Jake and Neytiri smiled knowingly at each other, sharing a small chuckle together. Neteyam wondered what it was like to have someone like that. Who just knew what you were thinking without having to ask.
The conversation shifted after that, the way it always did in their house. Bouncing back and forth between topics too fast for any of them to keep up with.
Jake started talking about Tonowari almost immediately. Neteyam could already see the bromance forming before him.
“That dude is huge,” he said, still sounding mildly impressed. “Like, genuinely gigantic.”
“He seems reliable,” Neytiri replied, “He and Ronal are a good match. He is the head of the family, but Ronal seems like the neck.” She made a motion with her hands, moving a metaphorical head side by side.
Jake scoffed, “Yeah, well, he looked like he could bench press our car.”
————————————————
Neteyam escaped upstairs as soon as dinner ended.
The second his door was shut behind him, He collapsed backward onto his mattress with a long sigh, staring up at the ceiling fan while the events of the day replayed slowly through his head.
The Tsikaus seemed nice enough.
Tsireya was sweet. Genuinely sweet, not in the fake polite way some people are. Like him.
Ronal and Tonowari seemed friendly enough, in the same slightly intimidating way teachers tried to be friendly on the first day of school.
And Ao’nung…
Neteyam sighed, flopping onto his side with a hand tucked under his cheek.
Ao’nung had asked him to help set up his room tomorrow.
And weirdly enough, Neteyam found himself looking forward to it. Which was ridiculous considering they’d only known each other for two hours, tops.
Still, every time Neteyam closed his eyes, his brain immediately replayed little things he noticed about Ao’nung against his will. The way his eyes flickered when processing a thought. The way he crinkled his nose when he laughed.
He pressed the heel of his palm briefly against his chest, trying to ignore the strange flutter settling there.
New friend jitters.
That was a thing, right?