fh_trips | Bali Hai lagoon, Monday

"Sharing sandwiches is very intimate," he said and swam closer to her, careful not to drip water on her book. That didn't stop him from dripping water on her legs. "You could come in, you know."

The little drops of the cool water on her skin made Adah shift a little, and her smile was a little regretful as she tilted her head. "I can't swim, Lee," she reminded him, leaving it at that, leaving out all the parts about how being any deeper in water than what might fill a bathtub absolutely terrified her.

"You could hold on to me," he offered. "I wouldn't drop you."

He...was aware of the plethora of issues bundled up tightly in these few otherwise simple requests, wasn't he? That his fingers were tapping lightly long the edges of the lid of a whole can of worms, a can of nerves and fears and trepidation? And the worst part was that she really wished that she could; she wanted to, sort of, but... A frown of regret creased her face. "Lee..." It was part plea, and part apology.

"Okay," he said softly, swimming closer. "I just wanted you to know that you could and I wouldn't drop you or leave you and it'd be safe. I just wanted you to know. You don't have to, you really don't, but I wanted you to know."

"I know," Adah said, quietly, keeping her eyes down a moment. She looked down at her fingers, at her legs speckled with droplets of water, and drew in a breath. She blamed her most recent reading material for her sudden speculations on her problems with trust. Trust, like love, was rarely evolutionarily sound. But, then again, so was not being able to swim, although that she couldn't really help. And she wouldn't be able to help anything at all if she'd agreed to this. He said she didn't have to; she knew he'd understand if she didn't. But understanding and disappointment were not directly related things...

She bit her lower lip a moment and looked over toward the Eel, quirking an eyebrow "No going out too deep," she said, a shaky, warning look in her eye. "And if your hold so much as slips an inch, so help me..."

"We can stay right here," he said, gesturing to the shallow end, "and it won't slip. I don't let go."

Adah eyed him for a moment longer. It wasn't that she didn't trust him at all, of course, because she did and she knew he'd never do anything to hurt her. But accidents could happen, and, besides all that, there was just the mere fact of what doing this was saying: I'm going to do this, I'm putting every ounce of my well-measured trust into you, and you'll know it and I'll know it and anyone else would, too. My vulnerability, right there in plain, plain sight...

Even regarding how to get from her current point A to his point B demanded to make a display of her inability, so she hesitated, struggling a little with the words as she shifted closer to the edge of her perch, her good arm reaching for his shoulder. "H-Help me down?"

"I'm right here," he said, moving closer, guiding her hand to his shoulder and sliding the other one under her legs. "I've got you. Wrap your arm around my neck and I can just cradle you like that. That sound okay?"

Doing a swift job of negating her previous comment on her perpetual paleness, Adah's face seemed to have gained quite a bit of color all of a sudden. She would have swallowed, but didn't, for all the tightness in her throat, and that was the same reason that she didn't speak at first, only nodding. Her arm wrapped around his neck and she slid forward a little more but, just before giving herself over entirely from leaving her perch, she sharply found her voice. "And then you'll set me down, right? I should be able to touch here?" Which she knew was a stupid question, but she felt that she had to ask.

"You'll be able to touch here and I'll set you down," he assured her. "I promise. Just as soon as I can, I'll set you down but I won't let go."

Adah's nod in response was slight; it didn't even jerk as much, for how stiff the rest of her body felt. Another breath, and she tightened her arm around his shoulder, finally sliding herself off.

For once, she actually felt regretful that he wasn't wearing a shirt; if he'd had one, she could grip onto it tightly without having to worry about potentially ripping flesh.

"Hold on as tightly as you need to," he said, slowly pushing just a few steps away from the edge and into the water. "You won't hurt me and I won't drop you."

"I think you have that reversed," Adah muttered; she clung to the Eel tightly and even managed to get her right arm to join the other, although it held on much more loosely. "You won't drop me because, if you did, I'd hurt you..."

"And I fear that," he laughed, moving just a little further out in the water and then stopping. "I've got you but you can put your feet down now. You'll be able to touch."

Perpetual paleness overtook Adah again, the color draining quickly from her face; her eyes clenched shut tightly as her hold increased and a slow, careful breath left her. She tried to shift, tried to move, but found that her brain and her body, out of her apprehension, was not communicating again.

Or perhaps the problem was that her brain and her body was communicating too much. The thought of the water against her skin and replacing the feeling of his arm under her legs kept her sharply still, because as the thought of water flooded around her, thoughts of dreams flooded in, too. It was ridiculous, though, she knew. It was shallow here, the worst hard she could suffer was slipping, and he'd catch her if she did. But stilll...

Her arm clung a little more, her head ducked against his shoulder. "I...I can't."

"You don't have to then," he said, tightening his hold. "I can keep you like this or I can bring you back to where you were. It's up to you."

A lovely set of choices, there. Suffer the embarrassment of a failure or suffer the embarrassment of having to cling to him like this. "Lee," she said, to defend both feelings, to excuse away the fact that there were tears building in the corner of her eyes over something like water, "the last time I was in this situation, there five hundred flesh-eating ants covering me and I honestly thought I was going to die..Not...not the best of associations..."

"Okay okay," he said, keeping his hold tight even if he was starting to panic a little. "This is not like that time and it's not going to happen again, I promise. But you need to tell me what to do so I don't do the wrong thing here. You're not going to die, I'm not going to let you die. Stop thinking about that, if you can, and just look at me. Just look at my face and think of how much of an idiot I am. Or think of being lazy with me. Think of Pride. Think of the library."

"Or my immaculate, pristine brightly lit laboratory," Adah muttered, closing her eyes again. That was just the thing, though. She didn't want to think about any of that, but she certainly didn't want to think about the associations in her head right now. The thread of water beneath her, cradled in arms like this.

She just wanted to think about this exact moment, to completely distance it from those associations, to get over it, give it new associations.

"Help me down?" she finally, quietly said. "Carefully. Slowly. Don't let go. Just helped me down until I get my footing..."

"I won't let you go, I promise you," he said quietly and just held her there for a moment longer before dipping down a little further in the water so he could stay above the water but guide her feet to the bottom as slowly as he could manage.

Breath bated and eyes clenched tight, Adah tried to ignore how even just the slow and careful movements seemed to make her heart drop into her stomach. She forced herself to remember that the warmth on her skin was just the sun and the warmth of the Eel's body against hers, not the fiery biting of the ants; the prickling of her skin was anticipation, not a thousand insects. The heat in her eyes were tears and they were in a quiet, peaceful lagoon without all the chaos of people trying to save themselves. Entirely different. Foolish to associate the two of them based merely on the slightly fetal clinging in well-formed arms.

She started to get her toes to wiggle slightly, reaching for the water and she slowly let out her held breath. She jerked sharply once the touched the surface; they curled but they still continued forward. Her next breath was a little bit shuddering; one foot in. Easy sailing from here. Right?

"You're doing good," Lee said, still keeping his hold tight and firm. "And I've got you and it's just you and me and the water's clear and I can see your feet. It's all right. We're all right."

And she could feel her body and she could feel the water, and her body moved again when she told it to, shifting a little, turning toward the Eel as he good leg stretched out, stretched down. Arms tighter around him, she wiggled a little, trying to get out of his hold in a sort of desperate need to get her feet on the floor underneath the water, to be able to stand on her own as quickly as possible, though clinging to him for emotional support as she sought out her own physical support. Almost there, really, and, as soon as she was, she'd realize what a big deal she'd made out of it, feel silly, maybe ask him to take her out a bit deeper.

Although, with how she was feeling now, that was incredibly doubtful. She was trying to be optimistic for once, though, here...

And he let the hold on her legs slip free but kept one around her waist, just to balance her. He promised he wouldn't let go and he wasn't about to break that promise.

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