It's the first time Gideon's asked, though the question itself isn't a complete surprise. Harrow had seen it flicker at the edges of the other girl's expression on other nights, watched it surface and recede again in the light of her eyes. Familiarity doesn't keep Harrow from freezing, her body curling in a few more degrees in a kind of protective hunch. Her dark eyes track the slow rub of Gideon's thumb, the displacement and springing back of the patch of skin between her eyebrows.

"What? Why?" Both words come out abrupt and sharp, and Harrow's jaw clenches. She breathes in through her nose, out again. "You will overspill the tub, Griddle."