Pool.
Thirheria
*************
Soon they were both comfortably in the water. As they lingered in the warm embrace of the water, Adele's hair fanned out around her, floating like a delicate halo. The tendrils caught the light, shimmering like strands of gold. Theodore, ever attentive, noticed how the water played with her hair, how it framed her face in a way that made her look ethereal, almost otherworldly.
He moved closer, his movements deliberate and gentle, as though approaching something sacred. His hands, strong yet tender, reached out to gather her hair. He carefully lifted the wet strands, his fingers brushing against her neck as he did so. The simple act of gathering her hair felt intimate, more so than he had anticipated. It was as if he were claiming a small part of her, a quiet declaration of his desire to care for her in every possible way.
