Charlie stood at the water's edge and the morning light made the lake look like a glassy mirror.

Trees whispered like a gentle breeze, and a sleepy bird chirped somewhere nearby, adding a lazy melody to the stillness. It was begging for silence and slow breaths. But as she looked down at the fishing rod in her hands, her mind was anything but calm. She gripped the rod, her fingers were unsure. The line hung limply, and despite John's patient guidance, she felt out of place.

"Just a flick of the wrist," John started, standing beside her with his rod ready. "You don't need to throw it; just give it a light flick." He demonstrated, casting his line with an effortless, fluid motion. The bait landed on the water with barely a ripple, and he turned to her. "Now, your turn."

Charlie swallowed, adjusting her grip as she tried to mimic his motion. She looked over at him, nerves dancing in her gaze. "So... just flick it?"

"Mmhmm."

She exhaled and then, flicked her wrist.

The line jerked sideways before slapping the water with an undignified plop. Making John pressed his lips together, fighting a smile.

"Well, that's a start."

Her cheeks flushed, and she groaned as she reeled the line back in. "I told you, go easy on me. I'm going to knock myself out with this thing, right?"

John shook his head and he chuckled before stepping to her side to help. "Here—let me show you."

When he came up behind her and adjusted her grip, her pulse quickened when his hands covered hers. They were hard but gentle, and Charlie had to keep her expression neutral.

Fishing, she reminded herself. This was about fishing, Charlie. Do not fawn at him!

"Alright," he said, his hot breath tickling against her ear. "Relax a little. You're holding it too tight. Just loosen up and let your wrist do the work."

Charlie nodded, feeling his large, calloused hand guiding her small hands. With his help, she tried again, this time, she flicked her wrist gently and the line flew smoothly this time. Watching it land in the water with a soft splash, she gasped.

"I did it!" She turned her face to him with a big smile.

"Mhm," John gave her his quick smile and he returned to his spot.

"I think I'm going to be a pro at this," Charlie added when she glanced at him.

John chuckled, casting his line out again in a practiced, effortless motion.

"You're far from it, but it takes practice. Now comes the fun part, we wait. Fish don't always bite right away. Could be minutes... could be hours."

Her smile faded.

"Hours?" Charlie blinked, her tone had a hint of disbelief.

John smirked at her reaction. "That's part of it, lass. It gives you time to think, enjoy the silence."

Charlie looked at the water with newfound apprehension.

"I thought it was more of a 'catch-and-go' deal."

He chuckled again, this time, he was amused by her expectation.

"Welcome to fishing, sweetheart. Sometimes, you get lucky right away. Other times, you leave empty-handed. It's a bit of a gamble."

She sighed but found herself settling in without posing any more complaints or discomfort.

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional splash of water as John adjusted his line. Charlie glanced over at him. There was something about how he seemed present, as if fishing here with her was where he wanted to be. Until, her rod jerked. Charlie gasped, gripping it as the line pulled taut.

"John! I caught something!" she said, her heart pounding as the rod tugged against her hands.

His eyes lit up, and he stepped closer. "Easy now. Keep your grip steady and start reeling it in."

Her hands fumbled as she followed his instructions, feeling the fish fighting against her. Her pulse raced with excitement and nerves altogether.

"You've got it," John encouraged, watching her struggle with a proud grin. "Just keep reeling, nice and easy."

"I'm trying!" Charlie said, feeling the burn in her arms as she fought the fish.

With a final pull, she managed to reel in her catch. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either—a decent fish that flopped wildly at the end of her line. She stared in awe, breathless.

"I got it!" Charlie turned to him and beamed, like a child has won a spelling bee.

"Not bad for a first-timer." John said, impressed.

"I'm practically a pro now?" Charlie asked, a hint of playfulness known by her tone. It would take her a while to call herself that.

"Not quite, but you're off to a good start." John gently removed the fish from her line, holding it up. "So, what's the call? Keep it or let it go?"

Charlie hesitated, still amazed she'd caught something. "Is it bad to let it go?"

John shook his head, already moving toward the lake's edge.

"No." He said when he knelt, lowering the fish into the water. They watched as it darted away, free once more beneath the surface. "There you go. Free to swim another day."

Charlie giggled. "I can't believe I actually did that."

"You did," John said, casting his line back out with a little smile. "Now that you've got the hang of it. Let's see if you can catch another."

Charlie reset her lines, and she felt a renewed confidence as she cast her rod. Fishing wasn't as boring as she'd thought—except when John was beside her. They stood together and their lines glided across the water. The sky above was brushed with almost blue and gold hues as the sun rose higher. The air was still cool, and the lake glittered beneath the sunlight's gentle touch. Just as Charlie was starting to think her second catch was a fluke, her rod jerked again but with strong force.

"Woah! I think I've got another one!" She said, her eyes widened.

He turned to her and said, "Alright, same as before—nice and easy."

"Uhm... I think that fish is strong!" Charlie said. She could feel the line was pulling and jerking as John watched. Her arms strained as she fought to reel it in without letting it escape.

As he moved behind her and held her hands over the rod. They pulled, guiding the fish toward the surface. His grip tightened with hers as Charlie gritted her teeth and John grunted as he didn't expect the second catch to be like this.

"Hold still," John said, "hold it. Reel it in, Charlie."

She tried to reel it and pull at the same time until her back was pressed against his large body. The warmth against her was unexpected on her end, but her mind was too busy on proving that she could catch another.

When it finally broke free of the water, giving one last, powerful thrash.

Charlie gasped and before she could react, the fish launched out of her grasp, hitting John square in the face with a wet slap.

Her eyes wide in shock.

"Ohmigosh! I'm so sorry! Did that fish just slap you?!"

John blinked, momentarily stunned. His eyes landed on the big fish that was flipping around and he grunted. She watched him wipe his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Looks like it did."

Then, Charlie burst out laughing. Her sides aching as she watched him manage the fish with far more grace than she ever could. "I didn't mean—"

John shook his head, his grin wide.

"No harm done. Just part of the job." He quickly looked at the large fish before tossing it back, watching as it disappeared beneath the water.

Charlie finally caught her breath, her eyes shining with cheeriness. "I don't know if I should feel bad for the fish assault or feel proud of my skills."

"A little of both," he said dryly.

Charlie shook her head to herself. "Gosh, I hope the next one doesn't come with a slap."

His eyebrow arched, his smirk widening. "I'm willing to risk it. But next time? I'll leave you to handle the wild ones on your own."

Charlie stared at him, almost in mistrust.

"Oh, you can't do that. And what if the fish attacks me?"

With a thoughtful hum, John smirked.

"Then I'd have to remember you fondly. Brave Charlie, felled by a fearsome fish."

She scoffed. "So, that's it? You'd just abandon me to the fish?"

"'Abandon' is a bit harsh." He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with humor. "I'd prefer to call it... character-building. Builds resilience."

"Oh, really?" She said, her hands placed on her hips. "You're just saving yourself from another fish slap, right?"

John gave a dramatic shrug; his expression was mock-serious.

"Self-preservation's key out here. These waters are full of fierce creatures, you know."

Charlie shook her head again and snickered. Her hands dropped from her hips as she picked up her rod.

"Right, like you're telling me I'd be all alone fighting these 'vicious creatures' while you just watch?"

"Hey, I barely survived that first slap. But you—you're tough enough. I'm sure you can handle it." John said, still smirking.

Her eyebrow quirked. "I don't think so, Johnathan. If the fish tries to pull me in the water, my roommate will look for me."

He chuckled heartily. "Nah, I'm just being a sport, Charlie girl. If it really comes to that, I'll step in." His tone softened, almost serious with a boyish smile. "If you're in trouble, I'd never leave you to handle it alone."

She stared at him, warmth rising to her cheeks. The way he said it and his eyes bore on her, it made her stomach flip.

"Even if I'm not cut out for danger?" She said softly.

His eyes changed from glee to (almost) a soft concern.

"Especially then," he continued. "I'll handle the danger, and you can handle... everything else."

Charlie laughed a little.

"Alright, deal. You make sure your fish doesn't land a hit on me or you... or us."

"No promises," he replied, picking up his rod and casting his line back into the lake with a smirk. He felt a faint tug on his rod and expertly began reeling it in with ease.

Charlie watched him, and as she tried to focus on the lake, on the line in her hands, on anything except the way her heart flipped every time John would look at her before turning his gaze away. It became impossible. Out here, everything else seemed to fade—except for him.

It would have to be that beard, rough and thick, that made him look like he belonged here. And his voice—that raspy, rumble voice laced with a British accent—sent a flutter through her stomach every time he spoke. The way his eyes crinkled on the corners whenever he would smile or show-off his boyish grin.

The way he showed off his confidence, that calm way he handled the fish assault.

It made her feel strangely safe.

She tried to brush it off, telling herself it was just the quiet morning and the first fish she caught. Maybe it had to be her excitement or her giddiness, whatever it is making her stomach flip back and forth.

Deep down, she felt ridiculous.

Charlie should call herself crazy to think she would be attracted to someone older like him that quick.

This is a second date, and I'm already hooked on him. She thought to herself.

———

Thank you so much for reading this chapter!

I had such a fun time writing Charlie's fishing misadventures, from her first catch to the unforgettable fish slap moment. John's quiet humor and patience with her add such depth to their connection, and it's always a joy to explore their chemistry in moments like these.

Don't forget, I release three new chapters every Friday, and sometimes on Wednesdays if I'm feeling generous! Let me know your thoughts—I'd love to hear what made you laugh or smile in this chapter!

Have you ever gone fishing before? If not, would you be willing to try it with someone like John?
   
What's the funniest or most unexpected thing that's ever happened to you on a date?