Summary: Hooray for awkward hot spring hijinx!
Gwaelin knew she was staring, but she couldn't look away. How beautiful he was to look upon, prettier than a painting, realer than a statue. Not because he was perfect, but because he was imperfect: the map of his scars a reminder of his failings, and his determination to go on despite them. Impossible Alef hadn't started out impossible. He'd made mistakes. He'd been just a boy, once. He'd been an infant, just like her.
Their eyes met, and Alef's slid away almost at once. Chin averted, he said nothing as he slipped into the waters before removing his towel, replacing the sopping cloth on the stones.
That's when Gwaelin was hit with the folly of her plan: Now he was naked, too. Under the water, neither of them were wearing any clothes.
Meaning, somewhere down there he was just… bobbing about, like a fishing lure. All she'd have to do was look down, and there would be no secrets anymore; everything would be laid bare between them.
Don't look down, she thought.