Gideon potters around in the kitchen, absently humming to herself as she makes tea - stewed and sweet for her, weak and lukewarm for Harrow. Once the two cups are ready, she pads back into the bedroom, finding Harrow still curled on her side in her bed. Gideon tries to ignore the thought that Harrow looks like she's meant to be there.

"Here you go. Weak as piss, just like you prefer it." She sets the mug down on Harrow's side of the bed and then steps up onto the mattress, lowering herself back down on her side.