Gideon moves behind her, changing the points of contact between their bodies, and even if it's slight it's still a reminder of where they are; that Gideon's half-clothed and Harrow naked, the water growing colder around them. She can hear a low reprise beginning of the panicked, staticky whine in her head, the alarm tone that now sounds to her more dire than the tolling of any bell in Drearburh. Carefully, she leans forward, putting space between the warm solidity of Gideon's chest and the curve of her back.

"I told you not to get used to it, so don't."