Ty Lee's view is obscured from her vantage point, a combination of distance, water, and gauzy clouds of steam. Mai, in particular is hardly visible, pressed against the edge of the spring, blocked almost entirely by Zuko's body. A creamy white knee or foot peeks out of the water sporadically; her fingernails are tiny, black specks against his back.
Her face is more constant, eyes screwed shut, dark hair water-slick and plastered to her head. Her lips are parted, and Ty Lee imagines her pink tongue darting out at intervals. The hard muscles in Zuko's back and shoulders shift under his skin as he rocks against her, hands like claws digging into the ground at the edge of the spring. He throws his head back, Adam's apple bobbing, then cranes his neck as he whips his head to the side as though seeking escape. His jaw clenches in concentration, smoothing the line of his profile, as he strains for control before relenting and feverishly presses his mouth into hers.
They are quieter than Ty Lee would have expected, and the sweet, sharp gasps and guttural moans barely carry.
This is beyond the bounds of her assignment, and Azula will not care to hear, but Ty Lee clings to her treetop perch anyway, legs vise-tight around the branch, rough bark against her arms and stomach, heat shooting up and down her spine. Another gout of steam floats lazily past, more expansive than the ones before, leaving only a snatch of black hair visible.
Ty Lee closes her eyes and bites her lip, the bright, pulsing colors of their auras still burning on the inside of her eyelids.