"Since when did you forbidding me from enjoying a thing mean that I didn't enjoy it?" says Gideon, coppery eyebrows raised above the frames of her sunglasses, best shit-eating grin firmly in place. Gideon's got a bag in her hand; she's out a lot of thought into what to bring for them eat, focused in things that she knows Harrow likes best.

Maybe she'll even enjoy herself, too.