"Not even remotely," says Harrow, trying to laugh and only managing a weak, strained sound when Gideon nuzzles at her cheek. She balls one hand into a tight fist, breathing in shakily as she turns to look at her. Her dark eyes are wide, the panic in them slowly giving way to something close to a horrible, shameful anticipation. At the sight of Gideon's strangely colored eyes, so close she can see the flecks of brighter gold within the iris, her heart stutters in her chest.

"Tell me what you...how you..." she attempts and fails, her cheeks flushing a darker red. Her lips press together for a moment in a thin and furious line. "I am too ignorant to direct you in this, Nav. You have the advantage. Try to contain your delight."