“So I’m older.”
“Barely. Call it a tie.”
I smile, because how can I not? The water bubbles quietly between us.
“Truth or dare?” he asks.
I think for a second, then say, “Truth.”
He pretends to sigh. “You’re playing it safe.”
“Obviously.”
“Fine. What’s your worst habit?”
“Overthinking,” I admit. “Yours?”
“You can’t hijack the question,” he says, smirking.
“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms lightly over my chest. “Truth or dare?”
He leans forward a little, drops his voice as if about to commit to something scandalous. “Dare.”
I blink. “Oh. You’re serious.”
“Always.”
I try to think of something harmless, something I won’t regret asking. “Alright. I dare you to… put your head under the water for ten seconds.”
He stares at me. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“It’s a classic,” I say primly.
He laughs, shakes his head, and sinks beneath the surface without another word. Bubbles rise where he disappears. I count silently, biting my lip to stop from smiling.
When he surfaces again, water streaming down his face, he pushes his hair back and grins. “Satisfied?”
“Thoroughly.”
He wipes the water from his face, still grinning. “Nice swimsuit,” he says casually.
I blink, caught off guard, and then the realisation hits me—he must have had his eyes open under the water.
Heat floods my cheeks before I can stop it. I look away quickly, pretending to be fascinated by the pattern of bubbles on the surface.
“Good. My turn.” He leans back against the edge again, eyes glinting. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” I say quickly.
He laughs. “You really don’t trust me with dares, do you?”
“I don’t trust anyone with dares.”
“Fair. Then tell me…” He pauses, pretending to think. “When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to, not because you thought you should?”
The question catches me off guard. My first instinct is to deflect, but his tone isn’t teasing anymore—just gentle, curious.
I stare into the water for a moment. “Honestly? I don’t remember.”
