Her hand wraps around him, and everything leaves his head. Self-consciousness stands no chance against her touch, and her touch is everywhere. Closed around his length, pressed against his torso, hooked gently around his shoulders - taking up his space kindly but insistently, until there's the water and there's Vex'ahlia and nothing else exists. The whole village could walk in here, and his wide eyes would be fixed on hers still, his arms slowly coming around her in a loose embrace.

No encounter has ever felt quite like this before. Nothing he's done with another person has pulled him so thoroughly from the thoughts that haunt him at all hours. Later, he'll reason it away: He's tired, he's lonely, she just broke him out of prison. Right now, it feels like the best kind of magic, to feel someone else taking control for him. God, but he doesn't want to have to be in control anymore.

Looking at her is like looking at the sun, though - more than a moment, and it's too intense to bear. Percy dips his head, pressing his cheek to hers, hiding his face in her wet hair.