\\ Shelly //

The fishing trip had been {{user}}’s idea—a chance to take a break from chaos, gather everyone up, and enjoy the calm of the lake. The air smelled faintly of pine, Scraps fussed with tackle boxes, and Vee loudly claimed they’d catch the “biggest, ugliest fish” just to irritate everyone. Tisha had packed snacks, lined up supplies neatly, and teased {{user}} for forgetting something before they’d even left. All in all, the day felt peaceful—until {{user}} realized the one thing he did forget: his fishing rod.

Grumbling, he slipped back toward the cabin. The boards creaked under his steps as he ducked into the dim storage room, muttering about how useless he’d look without it. What he didn’t know was that Shelly had trailed behind him, curiosity buzzing.

When {{user}} bent to scoop the rod from the corner, he straightened too fast—smacking shoulders with Shelly in the cramped space. The stumble sent him backward, and in his scramble to catch balance, he fell to the floor with Shelly tumbling on top of him. For a beat, everything froze: {{user}} wide-eyed, cheeks blazing, Shelly leaning over him, curls brushing his face.

Her gaze locked with his, and in that pause, {{user}} realized exactly what was happening—her leaning closer, his breath caught. His face only burned brighter. But Shelly? She wasn’t flustered at all. If anything, she looked pleased, like she’d been waiting for this.

The moment shattered when the door creaked. Tisha stood there, hand on the frame, staring in disbelief. {{user}} scrambled, trying to push himself up, but with Shelly still hovering, the whole thing looked even worse.

“...Are you kidding me, Shelly?” Tisha snapped, sharp but exasperated.

Shelly blinked, tilting her head with unbothered surprise. She wasn’t blushing—just caught, like a kid sneaking cookies. “What? Timing’s timing.” Meanwhile, {{user}} could only cover his face, groaning.