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Compared to most people in her life, Harrow was not an impulsive person. It was one of the few constants about her, even as of late, where the more reckless corners of her mind seemed to be growing louder with each passing day.
The majority of her reckless inhibition could be pinned down to her hair. Each time she looked in a mirror, she’d fought the urge to chop her hair off by chewing on her lips until the previous wounds she had inflicted would re-open. The longest parts of her hair were crawling past her collarbones, but it was difficult to judge its true length when Harrow hadn’t brushed it properly in weeks.
It frustrated her deeply that Gideon classified running one’s fingers through their hair in the shower as “the literal tip of the iceberg when it came to self-care,” especially when Harrow felt Gideon only recently stopped neglecting her own ginger-dusted locks for triceps maintenance. It was a bit ironic – the moment Gideon added hair care to her relatively humble morning routine, Harrow seemed incapable of regulating her own.
Harrow pulled her fingers through her hair with the same force someone with a completely untangled mane would do, and hissed when her neck let out a crackled groan it was clearly holding in.
“What happened?” Gideon asked, next to her on the bed, though she seemed absorbed in a battle between her exceptionally short nails and a scab that wouldn’t seem to flake off.
“A spider became caught in its own web.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna need a translation for that one. You know I don’t speak in cryptic tongues.”
Harrow leaned her head back against where she assumed her pillows were, but her skull ended up slamming into the iron headboard. When her head finished rattling, Harrow said,
“It would seem practically all of my current problems are self-inflicted.”
“If this is about the burnt toast incident this morning, I told you that was my fault anyway-”
“Griddle, don’t make me beg for your silence.” When Gideon sat up to look at Harrow with more ease, she knew it was safe to continue. “I’m alluding to the issues my hair has given me as of late.”
“Oh. Well what about it?”
Harrow let out a bone-dry laugh. “I wish I could answer that. It’s particularly infuriating for two reasons. The first of which being I have no idea what I wish it would look like, nor if changing it is the solution I’m even looking for. Which segues us into number two, where I suppose the larger of my fears lie. That is to say…” Harrow’s hand pressed against her throat when her voice seemed unable to keep up with her thoughts.
“You don’t have to tell me right now,” Gideon reassured as she turned to envelope Harrow in one of their now more common physical positions: a warm, toasty, back hug. “Let me de-bastardfy your hair. I’ll get the worst of your knots out now and then we can continue this conversation next time you feel up to it.”
Harrow shrugged in ambivalence as best as she could while tied up Gideon’s engulfing embrace.
“Alright, that’s a yes,” said Gideon, who may have not known cryptic tongues, but was fluent in Vague Harrowisms.
Gideon separated her hair into four different sections, then divided those up further with her fingers until Harrow no longer felt the need to gnaw at the inside of her cheek with similar fervor to a starving animal.
“For someone with a crimped mop for a head of hair, you are surprisingly skilled at this,” Harrow remarked.
“What I’m skilled at is taking care of you.”
When Gideon encountered a particularly tough knot, she approached it with more of a desire to calm it, rather than kill it. Gideon’s hands, calloused by years of experience, made for excellent weapons against Harrow’s untamed mane. Harrow suddenly wished she had tomatoes on her charcoal toast earlier in the morning so could pin the blame on the burning sensation in her chest as agita.
Gideon interrupted Harrow’s thoughts, and possibly the trajectory of her life, by placing a nauseatingly gentle kiss to the back of her head.
“Griddle?” Harrow’s own voice sounded distant, as if it echoed off a cavern wall.
Gideon shifted herself so she was facing Harrow, where the only point of contact between the two were their knees.
“I want to kiss you,” Gideon said, and Harrow felt her mind cave in.
“I…” Harrow’s ability to speak properly dissipated after her brain decided on an early retirement, “you want. Mm.”
“Well, what I really want is for you to just feel the same way,” Gideon scooted a few inches away from her, but opted to grab one of Harrow’s hands as compensation. “And just because I want to doesn’t mean we have to.”
“How I feel…” It took all of Harrow’s willpower to not whittle down her already worn lips. It was as if cement had found its way into her mouth and dried before she could even stop it. “I don’t know if I have the ability to say it.”
“That’s okay then. Like I said, we don’t even have to.”
Harrow’s free hand twitched. “So that’s it? We just won’t do it?”
“Well I’m not gonna kiss you if you can’t consent.”
Discomfort prickled at Harrow’s skin. As embarrassing as it was, she imagined this scenario in her head countless amounts of time, from as many different angles as she could think of. However, the one situation that she actually landed in was completely unfamiliar to her.
“What am I doing wrong?” Harrow asked out of genuine confusion.
Gideon’s grip on Harrow’s hand loosened. “Wrong? Nothing. Am I making it seem like you did something wrong?”
Harrow shook her head, mostly to convince herself it was how she felt. “I just don’t know why you won’t…” she tore her hand away from Gideon’s, suddenly aware of how cold the room was, “...you won’t kiss me.”
“Because I don’t ever want to do some shit to you that I’m not completely sure you want?” Gideon spoke as if that was supposed to be obvious to Harrow.
“How is it not apparent to you? It is so impossibly agonizing to ask for anything, especially from you! Now you want me to perform the verbal equivalent of writing a formal letter describing the nuances of my attraction, or else all must be put on hold?”
“You’re misunderstanding,” Gideon pressed on, much to Harrow’s dismay. “I’m taking all of these extra damn measurements because I see how much you struggle with vulnerability. There’s no way in all of hell that I would want to do something you were unsure about. Now look at me in the eyes. Please.”
It was the first time Harrow had tied consciousness to not blinking, but with enough effort, she was able to maintain eye contact with a concerned looking Gideon.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m doing this for myself too, you know.” Gideon tugged on one of her earlobes. “All I want to do is make you feel good, Harrow. If I have to wait even longer than I already have been to kiss you, then it’ll be all the more worth it if I can do it knowing you feel safe.”
“...How long have you been waiting?”
Gideon whistled. “That’s a toughie. To be honest, I’ve probably thought of it for fucking years before I even realized what I was actually thinking about.”
Harrow reached out in search of Gideon’s hands, and they met each other halfway. “I suppose it does help to hear that,” Harrow admitted. “I may have assumed you already were aware of how desperate I truly was for this.”
Gideon pressed her thumb into Harrow’s palm and began to move upwards, gently massaging the boniest parts of her hand. The sensation made Harrow see little sparks dancing in the back of her eyes.
“Well, at least now I know you’re good at talking when your body is distracted,” Gideon said. “Maybe I should get you one of those pouches filled with rice for you to squeeze next time you’re emotionally constipated.”
“If you are mocking me, I’ll-”
Gideon robbed Harrow of her ability to make empty threats by wrapping her arms around her tiny waist and squeezing. She was most likely using a microscopic amount of her strength, but Gideon’s embrace caused Harrow to wheeze like an out-of-commission bellow pump.
“You’re so small, it drives me crazy,” Gideon spoke into Harrow’s chest.
Harrow silently wrapped one of her arms around Gideon’s back, causing the other to pull their bodies closer together. She stared at the base of Gideon’s neck, where her undercut softly faded into bronze skin. Harrow’s unoccupied hand grazed the shortest part of her haircut, and she shivered at the sensation of Gideon’s tiny hairs rubbing against her fingertips.
It was only when Harrow tried to swallow and felt a lump in her throat that she realized there was a very high chance she was in love with Gideon Nav.
“Okay,” Harrow decided. Gideon looked up at her with mild confusion, so she continued. “You may kiss me.”
“Suddenly I’m nervous!” Gideon said, though she was smiling so hard it looked borderline painful. “Just kidding, I’m never nervous. Except in front of beautiful women!”
Harrow didn’t want to think about the other times Gideon had been nervous, so she grabbed her by the shoulders, closed her eyes, leaned in, and kissed her instead.
Immediate regret ensued when Harrow remembered she had no idea how to kiss. Luckily, it seemed Gideon had also imagined this scenario before, and was able to quickly adjust Harrow by tilting her head to the side and pushing her hips in closer to Gideon’s. Harrow’s hands didn’t know where they wanted to go, but settled with one in Gideon’s hair and one on the small of her back.
Gideon made a low noise when Harrow’s grip in her hair tightened, and Harrow couldn’t help but whine at the sound. Gideon must’ve taken that as permission to press onward, and licked the outside of Harrow’s lips.
All her clothes were still on, yet Harrow felt as if Gideon was stripping her with her tongue. Their kiss deepened as both of them relaxed their jaws enough for them to explore each other. Gideon tasted of salt and something smokey-sweet, though Harrow couldn’t think of anything to compare it to.
Harrow pulled away for a moment to let her lungs catch up to speed, and caught a glimpse of Gideon’s now swollen lips.
“Hot damn.” Gideon dabbed some sweat beading at her forehead with the back of her hand. “Hey.”
“Hi.” They both sounded out of breath.
“So… How do you like it so far?” Gideon asked. Harrow wondered if Gideon was aware she was rocking her own body back and forth.
“It’s nice,” Harrow rubbed the back of her neck, stirring up some dormant goosebumps. “I want to keep going.”
Gideon nodded as the pace of her body-rocking increased. “Cool. Cool. Me too. Crawl on my lap so I can kiss you again, please.”
Some sensible corner of Harrow’s mind took note that Gideon ended every request with a please, but at this point her body was moving on its own. Gideon folded her legs on top of each other to make room for Harrow as she crawled on top of her. She tried to ignore how warm the space between Gideon’s legs was, but the butterflies in Harrow’s stomach only continued to increase.
“Atta girl,” Gideon snaked her arms around Harrow’s lower back when their hips aligned. “Perfect fit.”
Harrow shivered at the tone of her voice.
“By the way, you look cute when you’re flustered,” Gideon murmured against Harrow’s lips, and closed the gap between them.
They both were prepared this time, which led to more intimate kissing. Gideon tongued the inside of Harrow’s mouth, pushing her head back slightly while pressing their hips closer together. The weight of Gideon’s warm hand on her back made Harrow’s legs clamp around her. They both pulled apart from each other at the same time to groan as their pubic bones grazed each other.
“Shit,” was all Harrow could say when Gideon rested one of her hands below her hips. It took all of Harrow’s impulse control to not shove her hands down her pants when she noticed just how much real estate Gideon’s hand took up on her thigh.
“This okay?” Gideon checked in, her fingers twitching in anticipation.
Harrow forgot to hide her enthusiasm when she nodded.
“Do you… want to go further?”
Harrow licked her now sensitive lips. “Define further.”
“You could take off your clothes, and I could give other parts of your body some attention. I dunno. Whatever you want, really.”
“Alright,” Harrow’s hands were already searching for the seam where black pants met black shirt, “hurry up.” Suddenly clothes were a wretched source of evil, and honesty was easy.
“Fuck, you’re so hot when you know what you want,” Gideon helped Harrow wrestle out of her shirt, leaving her in a black bra so understated it would make the most devout weep with humility.
“Okay, you can do me now.”
Gideon attempted to stifle a burst of laughter by turning it into the world’s loudest snort. “You’re fucking crazy, Harrowhark. You really are.”
“Griddle!”
“‘Do me,’ she says, while still wearing the same training bra she inherited years ago from a musty laundry basket in a haunted basement. Let me rip that thing off, make love to some titties, and then I will happily get to this doing you speak of.”
Luckily for Gideon, she was quick to pepper Harrow’s flushed skin with kisses, which killed any incentive Harrow would’ve normally had for ripping her cavalier a new one.
“If you hate my bra so much, why haven’t you taken it off yet?”
“Because I wanted to see if you would take the bait and ask me to. So thank you, bait-taker.”
There was something oddly comforting about Gideon joking around with Harrow during the beginnings of their first time. Harrow lifted her arms up so Gideon was able to take the bra off, and immediately shivered when air greeted her nipples. Gideon haphazardly threw Harrow’s bra behind her, her eyes now transfixed on the exposed chest in front of her.
“Um,” Gideon breathed, “wow. I always knew you’d have nice boobs, but this is just fucking ridiculous. I think I’m salivating.”
Harrow felt a wave of goosebumps run over her body. “Well don’t just stare!”
For the first time in a very long time, Gideon had nothing to say back. She simply re-positioned herself lower on the bed and grasped both of Harrow’s breasts at the same time. Harrow felt the invisible pulley-system inside her drop from her chest straight down into her stomach as Gideon gently squeezed her breasts. Her eyes screwed shut as Gideon’s thumbs brushed over her nipples, swirling the buds in gentle circles. The sensation was reminiscent of being in a pool, swaddled in sensation all around, but light enough that if one wanted to tune out the feeling, it wouldn’t require much effort. However, Harrow knew the danger of having too much wiggle-room for her thoughts.
Amidst the wave of pleasure, along came the tide of insecurity. Harrow suddenly felt she was being split in two; her body was basking in the heat of Gideon’s touch, but her inner-saboteur had grown hungry in return. The gentleness of Gideon was not enough to satiate the uneasiness gnawing at the top of her head, therefore Harrow said,
“You don’t have to keep up this act of pretending to like my body, you know.”
Gideon recoiled from her body like it was corrosive, and Harrow had to bite the inside of her cheek to suppress a falsely triumphant grin.
“Where the hell did that even come from?” Gideon sounded as if she was talking more to herself than Harrow.
“It’s a simple matter-of-fact,” Harrow replied, her voice laced with manufactured spite.
“Do you actually think I’m gonna let you get away with this shit this late into what we’re doing?” Gideon let out a humorless chuckle. “Actually, better now than later I guess.”
Harrow crossed her arms defensively, ignoring the feeling of her roused nipples rub against her arm hair. “I am simply applying logic and reason to the situation! I’ve seen your skin mags, how they are full of curves and breasts that’d all be able to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. Instead, here I am, forcing you to pretend to enjoy the sensation of mostly air and bone.”
Gideon pinched the bridge between her nose. “For fuck’s sake Harrow, it’s like I can see the puppet strings attached to you. Listen to me, okay? And actually look me in the eye this time.”
Harrow’s drive to bring herself down halted the moment she realized Gideon was done saying please.
“Look, of course I don’t like that you're still stuck in this shitty cycle of self-destruction. I know you have a lot of reasons for it, but I have my own thoughts and feelings, too. Harrow, keep looking at me.”
She nearly overshot her gaze in order to get it back on Gideon’s face fast enough.
“Just like that,” Gideon said, though the encouragement bounced off of Harrow’s ears before it was able to be properly absorbed. “I really want this. Hell, at this point, want is a gross understatement. Harrow, you’re all I ever truly wanted, mags be damned. I’m sure it’s hard to picture, but holding yourself back from “spreading your evil” to me is not really the move you think it is. Besides, that ship has long sailed. I already got your heinousness all over me. I use it as a daily moisturizer, in fact-”
“I’m sorry,” Harrow croaked, though not without re-breaking eye contact. “You’re right. I won’t do it again.”
“Well, it’s not gonna be one-and-done just like that. As much as it probably sucks to hear, I doubt it’ll be the last time we have a conversation like this, and that’s okay.” Gideon tentatively rested a hand on Harrow’s bare stomach. When her body didn’t set Gideon’s hand ablaze, she inched herself closer so Gideon wouldn’t have to stretch to reach her.
“I understand. We can continue.”
“I need you just as much as you need me,” Gideon tugged on the tufts of hair wreathed around her belly button, and Harrow jolted at the newfound sensation. “Now no more moping. I can’t suck titties in this kind of environment, I demand a more suitable workplace atmosphere.”
Gideon possessed the impossible yet profound ability to make Harrow feel like she was genuinely capable of change. In that moment, Harrow felt she had perfectly measured out all the ingredients to create one hell of an emotional catharsis, save for the fact that Gideon’s mouth was slowly making its way to claim Harrow’s left nipple.
Unlike Gideon’s previous engagement with Harrow’s breasts, sucking on them left no room for the mind to wander. The sensation of Gideon’s hot tongue pushing up Harrow’s dark nipple made her hand grasp and pull the air as if it were tangible. Gideon’s hand met up with her tongue on the same breast, though Gideon’s lack of experience finally caught up to her when her brain seemed to struggle to sync up licking and squeezing. Perhaps it was beyond experience, and Gideon was simply enjoying herself. Despite the edges of her vision blurring from pleasure, Harrow could still see Gideon coated in a thin layer of sweat. Her strong brows were pinned together in dedication to her current craft, and her eyes were sealed shut to drown out any potential distractions.
Gideon pressed a wet kiss to the tip of Harrow’s now cherry colored nipple, and shifted herself to reach the other breast with more ease. The same type of kiss was repeated, though less wet this time, and Gideon immediately followed suit by wrapping her tongue around Harrow’s areola and sucking.
“Fuck,” Harrow cursed. Gideon hummed into her breast as a response, and the vibrations set fireworks off under her skin.
One of Gideon’s hands found its way to the original disheveled breast to thumb at the nipple, while her other hand dared to travel down to Harrow’s navel.
“Is this ok-”
“Yes,” Harrow impatiently cut Gideon off. “Need more.”
Gideon raised an eyebrow at her improper grammar, but slid her hand to just above the waistband of Harrow’s black lounge pants. She untied the pant’s string with one efficient tug, and her fingers began to dip under the fabric.
“Wait!” Harrow blurted, louder than either anticipated, which caused both of them to flinch. Harrow awkwardly cleared her throat before continuing. “I was wondering if you would like to take off your shirt.”
“Oh. Um. Honestly, good call,” Gideon seemed to have a talent for one-move clothing removal, as she was able to fling her shirt off of here in the blink of an eye. “I was starting to sweat like a motherfucker in that thing.”
“I should’ve specified, when I said shirt, I was referring to any clothes you’d might want to remove.”
“What, this?” Gideon pulled on a tight gray bandeau securing her breasts in place. Harrow silently cursed herself for being too small to look down into the gap of uncharted skin Gideon exposed, but the sound of the sweat-stained fabric smacking her skin dragged the necromancer’s thoughts out of the gutters. “I’ll pass. I kinda feel sexier with it on, y’know?”
Harrow did not know, but she was not able to push Gideon to do something she didn’t want to.
“Ah,” Harrow’s jaw was slack at the sudden realization.
“Don’t feel bad, it’s seriously better for both of us this way. Trust and believe.”
“No, it’s not that,” Harrow gripped her chin in thought as her mental puzzle pieces were being connected. “I do believe you. I do trust you. I’m referring to how complex the feeling of want can be. My primary blunder was I didn’t account for physical intimacy to be this, well, intimate.”
“You’re losing me.”
“What I mean to say,” Harrow overlapped her fingers together in a similar fashion to when she would attend service on the Ninth, “is I’m beginning to understand your obsession with consent.”
“Obsession is not the word I’d use-”
“I recognize your prioritization of consent within our relationship. Forgive me, it’s… often difficult to word my feelings in a way that doesn’t come off as patronizing, which I’m sure comes as a shock to you.”
“I love it when you apologize,” Gideon said with a grin as she pulled Harrow’s obsidian pants down to her knees. “It never fails to turn me on.”
Harrow wracked her brain for any semblance of a comeback, but the feeling of Gideon’s hands tighten around her upper thighs placed any cognitive thought-making on hold. The silence resumed, until it didn’t.
“Ohh, m-, fucking God,” Harrow’s head lurched forward at the sensation of Gideon’s nose prod the wet spot on her underwear.
“This is going to be good,” Gideon said, and Harrow wanted to scream at her for being close enough that she could feel her cavalier’s voice vibrate against her skin. “Holy fuck, you smell amazing. I think I’m getting contact high off your fumes.”
“You are an animal.”
“Yeah, yeah, now lie down.”
Harrowhark lied down, and Gideon got to work.
Gideon approached getting Harrow off with far more caution than she had ever exuded before. Her warm palm cupped Harrow’s heat, and the insulated feel made Harrow’s temperature spike all over. Gideon straddled the line between gentle and engaging as she pressed her hand against Harrow and began to move it in circles. After around the third rotation, Harrow’s legs were shaking.
“Griddle,” Harrow warned.
“Warm-up time isn’t over yet,” Gideon said, though she removed her hand and shifted her weight down a bit more. “Don’t be a spoiled brat.”
Harrow wanted to cross her arms in protest, but ended up crossing her legs in arousal instead. Gideon wedged her hands in-between Harrow’s thighs to spread them out once more, and Harrow shivered at the feeling of her wetness being exposed. She silently thanked Gideon for affirming her affinity for Harrow’s scent, which she herself could smell at this point.
Gideon let out a small chuckle, and before Harrow could demand what was so funny, Gideon flicked her clit through her underwear. It was such a small gesture that lasted for such a short period of time, yet it still caused Harrow to thrash her head back.
“Get these fucking panties off of me, so help me Lord,” Harrow gritted through her teeth.
“Working on it now, my ghastly maiden,” Gideon said. Harrow did not protest to the absurd nickname, as more conversation meant less time for Gideon to strip her down.
Gideon hooked her hands under Harrow’s underwear, and peeled them off much slower than anticipated. The drawn out removal gave room for Harrow to feel just how sweaty her bum had become, and how much slick Gideon teased out of her. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Prior to tonight, the most wet Harrow had been when she was inches away from drowning in a pool of her own blood.
The cool air was unwelcome against her crotch. What Harrow wanted-
“I want you to eat me out,” Harrow would always get.
“Yes,” Gideon breathed, and swallowed thickly. She seemed more spaced out than before. “I think I’m gonna die.”
Harrow leaned up to take a closer look at her cavalier. “Are you alright-”
Gideon’s grip on Harrow’s thighs increased, rendering her speechless once more. “You are so fucking attractive. I think this is where I actually may die. Fuck!”
Gideon buried herself in-between Harrow’s legs and took in a deep breath. “Shit! Oh my God. I’m gonna lose it.”
“Gr-, Gideon, are you sure you are feeling-”
“Yes,” Gideon outright moaned, “yes. You’re so beautiful. God, I want to worship you. I mean it.”
“Mmph,” Harrow, a woman worth worshiping, said in response.
Gideon placed a series of kisses around Harrow’s heat, each more adorning than the last. In a similar fashion to how they kissed on the lips, Gideon’s mouth began to loosen, with each peck eventually transitioning into a tonguing sensation.
Though the sensation was beyond stimulation she was used to, Harrow still craved more. She knew she did not need to ask for permission when she leaned up to grab Gideon by the hair and push her closer to the center of her pussy, where Gideon was tactfully avoiding.
Gideon let out a pleasurable groan as Harrow shifted so she could keep a reign on Gideon and still lay down.
“I got it,” she said. “I’ll give you what you want.”
The warmth from Gideon’s mouth transitioned to searing hot when Gideon flattened her tongue to lick the entirety of Harrow’s cunt, bottom to top. She repeated the motion twice before her fingers parted Harrow’s lips, and Gideon dove her tongue into her.
Harrow’s back arched up with such intensity she felt it crack, but doubted Gideon heard the sound over her moan. Gideon’s tongue was more wide than long, therefore it was unable to push past the very beginnings of Harrow, but none of that mattered. It was the first time she ever felt any internal stimulation, and her body instantly became addicted. Harrow found her hips thrusting up to meet Gideon’s tongue as it slid in and out of her. Both of Gideon’s hands held Harrow’s thighs as a precaution to not get slammed by the necromancer’s bony hips, but Harrow knew her cavalier well – even through the thick haze of arousal, she could tell Gideon did not mind the bit of pain that came with her current job.
Gideon moved away for a split second to catch her breath. Her chin, cheeks, and even part of her neck were glistening with Harrow, and suddenly it was all so very real. Gideon was real, as was Harrow, and there they were together, undisturbed, and possibly even in love.
Another kiss was placed on Harrow, this time directly on her clit, and she whined at the sensation. Gideon placed two more kisses (Gideon worked in threes, Harrow took note) in the same spot before she licked it.
Gideon lapped at Harrow’s clit as if it were an oasis among desert. Stars appeared in the corners of Harrow’s eyes, before erupting into supernovas, followed by whatever occurs after such a tremendous event, and beyond even that. It felt as if Gideon was inside her even more than when the damned woman was literally tonguing her insides, and it was addictive.
“Even your tongue is muscular,” Harrow made an attempt to joke, but it came out more along the lines of, “mmf,” “so good,” and “please.”
It was the most synchronized she had ever felt with Gideon. One wouldn’t moan without the other, and it seemed Gideon knew Harrow better than she knew herself. Her ability to pinpoint where to stimulate her perplexed Harrow so much she was almost tempted to ask how, if only she could bring herself to care about anything other than the buildup bubbling up in the pit of her stomach.
Harrow hadn’t been able to open her eyes since Gideon began to focus on her clit, but she so desperately wanted to look at her cavalier, her lover, in the midst of her making love. So she did just that.
The sight of Gideon eagerly attending to Harrow made a secondary sensation pool inside her, close to her chest. It was the most beautiful Gideon ever looked – not because Harrow was enjoying herself, but because Gideon herself was. Somehow, necessities such as air and rest were burdens, and all Gideon needed was Harrow. It was devotion personified, everything Gideon had ever wanted.
Harrow was everything Gideon had ever wanted.
“You’re so handsome,” Harrow managed. “You’re so good, mm, to me. Why… I- ah! I’ll never know, but I-”
“I love you,” Gideon blurted between kisses and licks, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“Yes,” Harrow sighed, “I love you too.”
Gideon took a deep breath and doubled down on her commitment to Harrow’s pussy, alternating between flicking her clit and tonguing her. One of Gideon’s hands snuck it’s way up to her hole, and would apply pressure wherever Gideon’s mouth wasn’t.
If Harrow could choose any memory to relieve in her final moments, she would have chosen the moment she was experiencing now.
My perfect cavalier, she thought, and then came with Gideon’s name on her lips.
Five minutes passed, or maybe two, or perhaps it was hours, but eventually Harrow broke out of the post-orgasm haze she was pulled into.
“Nav,” Harrow croaked. She didn’t realize how dry one’s throat could get after sex.
When no reply followed, Harrow opened her eyes to face a rare sight: Gideon crying.
“Gideon?”
“It’s just,” if Harrow’s voice was unstable, Gideon’s was broken, “I knew I loved you, but it’s like I forgot how much you fucking mean to me. I don’t even think you realize how much I do.”
Harrow wrapped her arms around a shaky Gideon, and gave her a squeeze. It was the first time she recalled initiating a hug, and Gideon went pliant in her arms.
“I know,” Harrow reassured. “I have seen what you’ve done. What you do for me. You’re so incredibly strong, it astounds me. My perfect cavalier.”
She placed her hands on Gideon’s damp cheeks and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you,” they both said at the same time.
“Oh my God,” Gideon snorted. “Good to know you become a cheeselord after you get off.”
“I should have known a serious moment with you would be as fleeting as a sneeze.”
“Shut up, you know you love me.”
Harrow wiped an excess tear of Gideon’s that was threatening to fall. “I do. I love you, Gideon Nav.” Another kiss was planted on Gideon. “Now, shall we go for another round?”