"Better be fuckin' lying," I manage, and by now nearly all my weight's resting on him, only one hand still on the wall for leverage. My eyes flicker open, catching a swirl of refracted light, water droplets clinging to the rocks and practically shimmering. There's a fleck of something on the back of his hand, a leaf or a tiny pebble, his skin gone white around the knuckles from curling around my own fingers so hard. I focus on all these things, on the clean smell of the air and the harsh pant of his breath in my ear, and then I'm coming and everything explodes.