His trousers are an obstacle he can’t figure out how to overcome without leaving the water, so he doesn’t. He just enjoys being with her. Making her happy.
Not catching anything on fire.
“I don’t even know what time it is,” she whispers as she plays with his ears more. It’s utter perfection being able to relax and not worry about his palms tingling when she does it.
“I believe we established you have nowhere to go,” he mumbles as he closes his eyes and basks in her touch.
“Nowhere but the heartlanding.” She kisses him again as he slides his hands along her legs beneath the water that’s cooled once more.
“I don’t want to get out,” he whispers. “I never loved water before I met you.”
“We’re turning into prunes,” she says with a light laugh. “I don’t want this to end either, but I’m getting cold. Unless you want to warm the water again.”
He pushes his heat into the surrounding water, and she sighs contentedly as she rolls to her back and relaxes against his chest. Her legs keep getting tangled in her skirt, but his vines have been happy to untwist the fabric every time it’s happened.
More than happy.
“I like this,” he says as he wraps his arms around her.
She chuckles, but her voice has a weary note to it, and she yawns. “What happens next? I feel like I ruined this by pushing you in with your clothes on.”
“Do I seem unhappy?” He nuzzles her neck as his hands wander, and she rolls her head from side to side against his shoulder. “Are you unhappy?” he asks next, and shewhimpers and shakes her head again. He kisses her neck. “Then you ruined nothing.”
“I suppose”—she yawns before she can finish her thought—“we could always get out and take off the rest of our clothes.” Her words become quieter as she speaks, trailing off until he can barely hear her.
“I think we should sleep,” he says instead, though every inch of him longs to do exactly what she suggested.
“My humanness may be showing.”
“I love your humanness.” He presses his lips to her temple. “If I rise to search for towels, you won’t fall asleep and drown, will you?”
He’d assume not, but the excitement of the past few days has clearly caught up with her.
“I don’t think so.”
That’s hardly reassuring, but he takes her word for it as she sits up and lets him crawl out from under her.
The chill of the air against his wet skin makes him shiver. He should have lit a fire in the hearth before she dunked him.
Not that he was thinking about that sort of fire at the time. His hands are too waterlogged to get a good spark now. It will have to wait a few minutes.
He glances down at Arisanna to ensure she hasn’t drowned, but she’s resting her cheek on her arms along the side of the tub.
She really is tired.
Towels.
He searches the room, hoping he won’t have to sop a trail to the water closet, when he spots a nearby shelf with thick, fluffy towels and what appear to be dressing gowns made of the same material.
They don’t need those...do they?
Whistling wind. She’s exhausted. Now is not the time.
Besides, the effect of the water won’t last long. His palms are already drying.
No. Tonight, he needs to get her dry and in bed. To sleep.
Gingerly, he steps out of the tub onto a thick rug and grabs a towel, quickly drying himself off. When he glances back at Arisanna, her eyes are closed, and he only hesitates for a moment before peeling off his soaked trousers and wrapping the larger robe around himself. It takes away the chill, though he’s already warming from within. When he rubs his fingers together, a spark easily forms.
