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She catches my gaze and turns to me.
“Oh, I’m ever so boring,” she echoes, drifting closer.
Her hands skim the water, gliding down my body until they curl at the hem of my soaked shirt. One brow arches in a silent question, but she already knows the answer.
I lift my arms, and she peels the fabric off with a teasing slowness, baring my skin to the warm air and the glow of the hot spring. She presses a kiss to my collarbone, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Is this helping?” I call over my shoulder, just loud enough for Farron to hear.
I don’t have to look to know he’s watching us; I feel his gaze, completely ensnared.
Rosie drapes her arms around my neck and leans in, pressing her mouth to mine. Her lips are warm and sweet and grounding in a way nothing else is. I kiss her back, slow and deep, my hands settling on her hips beneath the water. I think I could kiss her forever and not come up for air.
It’s been far too long since I’ve had my Blossom. And my Little Leaf.
I know Marigold supplied Rosalina with her contraceptive tea when we were in Spring, so we won’t require the cherry-flavored sheaths I bought in the human world.
When we part, she’s breathless, and I swear the steam’s thicker around us.
Then I catch sight of something else. Her briars curl up from the surface of the pool, slow and deliberate, slick with water. Rising in view of Farron’s line of sight.
But he doesn’t notice.
Because he’s staring.
At us.
He’s gone soft in the face, lips parted, hands braced on his knees like he wants to move but forgot how.
“Oh, Fare,” I say, voice lilting just enough to sound innocent. “You sure you want to stay dry?”
His eyes flick to mine, wary and far too late.
Rosie’s vines wrap around his ankles and yank.
He lets out the most undignified yelp as he topples forward and lands with a splash right between us. He comes up sputtering, hair plastered to his forehead, and I laugh so hard I nearly choke.
“You two,” he gasps, blinking water from his lashes, “are absolute menaces.”
Rosie kisses his cheek. “But you love us.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “Unfortunately. Completely.”
“Good,” I say, looping my arms around both of them. “Because you’re stuck with us.”
Under the night sky, stars spinning above and the Vale humming far below, I believe it.
We’ve got each other. And I’m never letting go.
Rosie turns toward me, eyes heavy-lidded, hair curling in bronze ribbons down her bare back. She lays a kiss on my cheek, then another at the corner of my mouth, and I feel it all the way to my toes.
She shifts, gliding over to Farron. His breath catches before she even touches him. Her fingers find the hem of his tunic, soaked and clinging to him like a second skin, and she tugs. “Too many layers,” she murmurs.
Farron’s hands hover at his sides, unsure, until Rosie presses a kiss beneath his jaw. He exhales and lifts his arms.
She pulls his tunic over his head, slow and reverent, and the moment his chest is bare, she runs her palms over his ribs with featherlight strokes. Farron shudders as if her fingertips are made of flame.
I move in behind her, brushing her wet hair over her shoulder so I can kiss the curve of her neck.
