He'd had a vague idea that a change of pace might be nice (conflicted as he was about whisking Alecto further inland, away from the sea), but an old friend of the family had made such a generous offer, and Alecto had seemed intrigued by the idea of seeing something new, so they had made the journey to a small cottage, nestled near a lake and surrounded by tall trees. The cottage was well-stocked with supplies for the week of their stay, and - most importantly - utterly isolated, truly just the two of them, for once.

Alecto had overseen a lot of the packing, drawing on past experience, and Joshua had mostly left him to it - a slightly cowardly decision, perhaps. But Alecto's reaction to the new environment eases an unconscious sting in his heart - the uncomplicated delight he feels at swimming in freshwater, practically frolicking in the rain of leaves from the trees surrounding the lake, eager for new experiences.

Joshua had left the room only briefly, to set wood for the fire and prepare for the evening, but he comes back to an unearthly vision - Alecto barely dressed, his skin scrubbed clean and pink from exertion, practically glowing with happiness as he admires himself in the mirror. Joshua's own cheeks heat slightly, his body responding to the unexpected ideal that had suddenly stepped out of some unknown place of dreams and wishes. He takes a breath, too loud in the quiet, wondering if he'd wake up, having disturbed a fragile magic.

"Dearest," he starts, haltingly, and then, "love," like a quiet, abject prayer. He closes the distance between them, reaches out a hand for Alecto's, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him, breathing in the fresh scent of soap and the underlying salt of the shore. He was suddenly feeling far too dressed, even if he was wearing only a single layer - shirt and trousers, pulled on out of habit, for propriety's sake.