You and Caesar had recently found it, secluded alcove in the springs—shielded from the rest of the group. Steam curls around the piles of rocks, softening the world around it to a dim candlelight and warmth.

He’s already waist deep, shirtless, his headband lying safely on a towel folded nearby. The water around him fizzes faintly, mainly from the heat it emitted but also because of the soap he carried around, clinging to his skin.

The Italian glances up at you, lazily leaning back, his elbows resting on the edge of the rocks. "Well, are you going to get in?" he asks you, his brow raised.