He couldn't decide if the not-breathing thing was creepy or hot.
He'd probably go with hot. Considering the uses the lack of needing to breathe could be put to, just as long as you didn't mind, y'know, the fangs.
And Peter really, really didn't.
He turned back onto his front, looking around to place Phaedra, swimming towards in slow, steady movements. He wasn't trying to sneak up on her - he'd be a hell of a lot more careful for that. But still, he ducked underneath the water, swimming up from underneath her, his head breaking the surface of the water just behind her. He was close enough to touch, close enough that her hair was brushing against his chest as he trod water.