Harrow dislikes the immediate flash of panic that comes when Gideon crowds next to her, likewise the sharp twist of her stomach as the warm and living proximity of her becomes apparent. She does what she can to push it down, close it off so she can enjoy this--or at the least not ruin it for Gideon, a new and disconcerting consideration--but even as it fades, the humiliation lingers.

Worrying her lower lip in her teeth, she picks up the remote and starts the show, keeping her eyes trained on the screen for now.