Yu was wrapped burrito-tight in a towel that smelled faintly of coconut detergent and campfire ash. The crew sat him beside the portable heater, adjusting the angle so the warm airflow hit his chest and shoulders directly.
Isaac crouched right in front of him. Not beside. Not nearby. Inches from him—knees on the sand, hands hovering as if torn between wanting to hold him or being terrified he might accidentally kill him with touch alone.
"Are you warm enough?"
Isaac asked quietly, voice tight with worry. Yu gave a short nod. His hair still dripped in wet blond strands, clinging to his neck. Isaac grabbed a second towel and began gently patting Yu's hair dry, jaw clenched, expression stormy with guilt.
"You could've drowned…"
He murmured, almost to himself.
"Twice, now, I—"
"Isaac, I'm fine…"
Yu cut in, forcing a small smile.
"Seriously. You saved me. Again."
Isaac's eyes flickered—shame, relief, something possessive flickering at the edges.
