[ It's not as though he's never looked at Ganymede before. Him looking at that silly candid picture is precisely the cause of this current contretemps. But he's never looked quite this closely, with the warm Mac Anu light brightening those delicate features and wide blue eyes, the ridiculous expression scrunching the wave markings on Ganymede's face. Irrationally, he finds himself wishing that Ganymede had left his eyes unchanged. They were beautiful as they were.

...Where on earth are his thoughts at? Perhaps he'd been awake more often than he realized, checking the messages compulsively for any response. He's practically sleepwalking still. ]

Who said anything about concern? I just had no intention of joining you in the water.

[ Which explains his transparent worry in no way. Is it excusable to tell himself his thoughts are scrambled by the feeling of Ganymede's lithe waist still held securely by his arm? It's "Winter's" build and not his, but even so... he chose this design thinking only of the possibilities within easy reach. To see if those tiny changes affected in the slightest — anything at all. ]

...How long should I stand here, holding you?

[ He means it to come out with a note of amusement, but something in his own tone brings a hint of heat to his face, and he goes very taut in self-restraint. If he jerks back now because he's embarrassed, it'll be the river for them for sure. ]