It was too dark to see, which meant he'd put them at the bottom of the lake. Or the bottom of an ocean. His chest burned, seared, his lungs seizing with water— Something grabbed him, and Amantea stilled out of shock. Isaia? It had to be, and Amantea wanted to yell at him to get to safety, to leave Amantea to drown like the worthless flit he had turned out to be. He didn't have the air or the energy, though, and he shuddered, fighting against the urge to breathe and cough. Amantea barely registered when there was suddenly solid ground beneath his feet. It didn't matter. There was still water everywhere—and in the next second there wasn't, and Amantea was coughing and coughing, trying to breathe and expel the water in his lungs at the same time. He shivered hard, pressing close to the warmth Isaia offered. He'd probably be mortified later, but he didn't care right then. It took him several minutes to calm down and stop coughing, but Isaia didn't let him go the whole time, his arms wrapped securely around Amantea.
