Pressed this close, Harrow can feel the tightness of Gideon's chest, the held breath that doesn't release when she expects it to--and when it does, the tremble of it takes her by surprise. The water is no barrier at all between them, but she makes herself think of it as one: a layer keeping the contact of skin on skin, Gideon's arm slipping around her waist or the gentle touch of their thighs, from overwhelming her. It works, just enough. When Gideon speaks, her voice thankfully more normal than it had been a moment ago, the heat on Harrow's cheeks reignites itself.

"Do not get used to it."