Archive of Our Own

Punctuality wasn’t Gideon’s thing. Yes, Palamedes said to be there at 19:00 and she was 2 hours late, and? It’s not like she did it on purpose: she left work around 19:00, because someone decided to place a last minute meeting on a Friday to talk about production capacity in kilowatt-hour instead of megawatt-hour and how they wanted to extract the deal sheet with all contracts and site’s production details. Suffice to say, she was annoyed because half of the stuff the users requested were already available and the other half was complete nonsense that even them wouldn’t remember requesting come Monday. But as a Business Analyst, she did her job, wasn’t necessarily pleased to be some kind of mediator between different teams but whatever, she did her part. And sure, by the time the meeting ended, she knew she’d be late but still thought it’d be manageable. After all, she had been living in Drearburh all her life, it wasn’t like she would be lost in her own turf.

Well.

It sort of happened.

Drearburh wasn’t the type of city to drive around in a car if you wanted to keep your sanity: the narrow streets and overwhelming number of cars and tourists jumping everywhere with their million bags and cyclists having a death wish, it was better to suffer in silence by taking public transportation than driving a car. Especially because her workplace wasn’t in the centre of Drearburh; to go anywhere after work was a bit tedious, it felt like taking a trip.

And even with the directions pulled on her phone, to check her itinerary, she managed to find herself in the worst case scenario possible: public transportation’s multiple levels of hell.

First, she got to her usual and closest train station after work and found it closed. She thought, alright, it’s just bad luck, could always be worse. She cursed the stupid application that couldn’t even notify her about it being closed and walked twenty minutes to another one. It was just a bit difficult to do so in a heatwave, melting and sweating profusely but at least she had a fan to save herself.

But after she arrived at the other train station, and thank god it wasn’t closed, she was thrust into another layer of hell: her train was delayed by thirty minutes. The cheerful voice announced the reason for the delay: someone fainted which in turn, immobilised every train and please, drink water everyone! And so, she waited.

For a little moment, she considered sending a message to Palamedes, saying she wouldn’t come but she wanted to go—it was her friend’s birthday. Nothing extravagant, just having his friends in a bar to hang out after suffering from heat and work nightmare.

Once she got on her train, she realised that she had to take a metro afterwards, and prayed every deity she knew of for Drearburh Transport Administration to not make her life any more difficult than it already was.

And as nothing went as planned, the metro was also delayed because someone left a bag and they had to stop the line and check the bag if it contained anything that could go boom.

So, yeah, she was late but she really tried. Circumstances weren’t helping her.

And sure, it wasn’t the first time it happened, she was known to not be punctual but at least she tried. It should count, no?

When she arrived at the bar, sweating and sunglasses dangling on her nose, she found Palamedes immediately.

“Sex Pal, I’m sorry to be late, I was stuck in the DTA hell, man, it was so bad,” she said, nearly flopping on the bar.

Palamedes patted her on the shoulder, saying, “don’t worry, Gideon. I’m glad you could make it.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw money moving from Camilla and Corona to Palamedes.

“You bet on me?”

“Of course, we did”, Camilla answered.

Corona said, “But it’s fine, you can’t rush perfection!” As if Gideon didn’t see her give money to Pal.

“You guys are so mean, profiting off my suffering. Both the train and metro got delayed today, please, imagine my pain!”

That got the result she wanted because Corona put her head on her shoulder, really close to her clavicle and it felt nice. Yes, Corona had a girlfriend—scary girlfriend, even—but what were friends for if not to rest your head on someone’s chest?

“Poor baby, public transportation is horrible,” Corona said, still patting her chopped ginger hair.

“Yeah, but imagine driving a car, though.”

Corona shuddered and she felt it through their close contact.

Camilla said, “I do.”

“Yes because you’re Camilla Hect! You can basically drive even a tank truck in fucking Drearburh!”

Camilla shrugged and it felt like she already had done that. Gideon shouldn’t be surprised at her friend, she really can do basically anything she set her mind to.

Gideon lifted up her head reluctantly, not without receiving a kiss on her cheek by one of the Tridentarii, while the other feigned to gag.

She ignored Ianthe’s presence and asked for a beer from the bartender, and got to talk a little bit with everyone present. She fetched a small gift bag from her backpack and handed it to Palamedes, watching his ears blush a little before he thanked her. Most of the conversation involved work because everyone hated their job and were overworked and on the verge of burning-out.

At some point, she felt a gaze on her, more insistent than anything that she had ever felt in the past. It felt like someone was trying to drill a hole in her brain with the power of their eyes, or something. She turned around, mid-sentence with Camilla and saw someone she hadn’t seen yet—someone beside Palamedes and Dulcinea but clearly not engaging in any discussion with them.

Their eyes met, and the other person’s expression verged on anger and Gideon had the impression that they wanted to start a fight with her. Which prompted her to look at them with more force than usual, but the longer she looked at them, the longer she realised that… they were hot. Like, really hot. The type that could kill you with their eyes, yes, but still hot nonetheless.

The eye contact was intense, to say the least. Gideon swallowed a bit, losing any hard edges to her features, because staying angry wasn’t in her disposition. And she felt the blush creeping in the back of her neck. She could feel the tension, in the way the other person’s gaze traced Gideon’s eyes, her lips, her arms and back to her eyes again. Gideon didn’t feel any discomfort in the way they were dissecting her. It was the opposite even, she felt aroused.

She hesitated to walk over to them and talk and maybe to ask for their instagram when she felt a pat on her arm. After what felt like eternity, she turned around to Camilla, the other woman arching a brow.

Gideon whispered, “Did you see them?”

Camilla feigned ignorance, “Who.”

“The dark lord with Sex Pal and Dulcie!”

“Ah, that’s Harrowhark Nonagesimus,” she said, leaning on her forearms on the table. “Palamedes’ friend from university. She moved to Drearburh not long ago so he wanted us to meet her. If you weren’t late, you would have known that.”

Gideon nearly crashed out right then and there. She turned around once more but this time Harrowhark—Harrow?—wasn’t looking at her anymore and was talking to Dulcie instead. Gideon saw piercings on her dark skin and could tell her short hair was curly, still forming tiny, tight curls. Harrow wore a black high-waisted and wide-legged pants with a black top, a few accessories adorning her wrists and fingers. She wore black in the heatwave like it was nothing; maybe having that aesthetic was more important than anything and Gideon could totally get that. Not that she would suffer the sun’s scorching rays just to wear black but she totally understood the appeal.

But knowing that she was a friend of Palamedes, she stayed behind, not really wanting to make a pretty bad impression—after all, Palamedes wanted her to join their group. Gideon wasn’t going to crash his plans, nor was she going to make the other woman uncomfortable by coming in too strong.

She spent the rest of the evening drinking more beer, eating whatever the bar provided and talking to her friends—minus the new member of the group, apparently. But involuntarily, she did glance her way a few times and found the other woman’s gaze trained on her again. It felt good. A bit shy and unfamiliar but still good.

They kept bumping into each other afterwards, whenever the others organised something, at a bar or restaurant or someone’s house. They never talked, just stared at each other. Gideon remembered that one time she held the door for Harrow and the other woman said thank you but still held her gaze, before joining the rest inside a bar. Or another time, they found themselves in the same hallway, but going into different directions and Gideon couldn’t help herself but to look. It felt like instinct, something was pulling her to look at Harrow and to let the other woman look at her the same way.

At one point, Corona noticed it and asked her, “Why is it always so intense with you two? I could cut the tension with a knife.”

She gasped, “you noticed it too? I thought I was going crazy!”

She didn’t know why she felt kind of intimidated but also turned on. And she knew even less why she couldn’t find courage to approach her and talk to her. They didn’t even have a proper introduction yet! All she knew from Harrow was from the others, when they asked her things or when Harrow wasn’t present, they would mention her in passing.

Things she learned: Harrow was a Data Scientist, had two cats, didn’t like tea but enjoyed coffee from time to time. Her favorite fruit was the white dragon fruit but not ripe, with a very mild taste (strange but whatever, to each their own). She also liked horror movies, never flinched, had the ability to stay straight-faced even during the most gruesome scene (Gideon was jealous). She had twenty piercings, some visible on her face and ears but Gideon was convinced she had a few hidden ones. She also wore jewellery like an armour: every finger was adorned by multiple rings, some with chains or linked to bracelets (Gideon liked her hands; they were smaller than hers).

Learning stuff about her was great but it would be better if she could talk to her properly. Gideon felt stupid—she wasn’t eighteen to behave this way! But she still found herself tongue tied and unable to look away.

Today, the group decided to eat at a restaurant and involuntarily, Gideon and Harrow seated opposite to each other, with a boiling hotpot in front of them. It was nice because Corona was beside her and she talked a lot, even getting a few words from Harrow, too. At one point, she felt Corona nudge her in the ribs and gesturing toward Harrow and Gideon resigned herself to do something about it.

Which meant cutting the meat into the broth and leaning a bit on the table so that they could hear each other better inside the cacophony of the restaurant and their friends’ chatter and laughter.

She took a deep breath, watched as Harrow glanced her way. She smiled and said, “You have eyes.”

And froze immediately.

“What?”

Swallowing hard, she said again, “You have beautiful eyes.”

Harrow blinked a few times before she said, dryly, “You’re on fire.”

“Huh?”

She repeated, with an eye-roll, “You’re on fire.”

“Gideon! Your sleeve!” Palamedes said.

Gideon looked down immediately and indeed, her sleeve was on fire. “Oh, shit,” she scrambled to her feet and took the jug of water and poured it on her sleeve. What a way to make an impression, huh?

Attempt #1 to Talk To Harrow Like A Normal Person: failed.

A few weeks into this mess of looking-but-not-talking, and meeting only with the rest of their friends, Gideon was determined to make a move. Not like, a real move, she just wanted to talk—ask her for her instagram, for example. Or, preferably, if she was single. That’d be cool, too, but as her track record lately, she was convinced she’d fumble it in one way or another. But still, this time might be different.

They were gathered at Camilla’s place this time, and as per usual, Gideon was the last one to arrive. Eternally late, it may be in her blood. She couldn’t even use the excuse of public transport this time, because she actually spent all her free time trying to find a decent outfit but failed to do so. She wanted something that might interest the resident goth member of the group. But she didn’t find anything because it’s still super hot and the heatwave was killing them all; she settled on a simple sleeveless t-shirt and shorts. At least Cam had the AC at her place—it felt nice on her bare arms and legs.

Harrow was in the kitchen and after some nudging from Corona and Dulcinea, she trailed there and watched as their resident goth was making drinks for the group.

“Hi”, said Gideon and congratulated herself for not fucking it up. Yet.

Harrow gave her a nod and Gideon could swear she saw her gaze glance at her arms for a split second before she turned around. “Want something to drink?”

“Huh, yeah, what are you making?”

“Coffee drinks, mostly. You drink coffee?” With a mug In hand, Harrow turned to face her.

“Yep, just make it sweet, yeah? Lots of sugar.”

Harrow nodded and started to work on her drink. Gideon watched her move around, playing with the coffee machine and different types of syrup and the milk foam maker. Harrow dumped a couple of teaspoons of sugar but at Gideon’s insistence, she added a few more with a bit more displeasure, wrinkling her nose. She handed her the cup and Gideon took it and their fingers brushed for a quick second but neither of them reacted strangely to the touch. Except Gideon, she was pretty much dying inside and was doing everything she could to not spill any stupid shit she had in her mind.

She took a sip of her drink. And immediately felt a weird taste, like something dying on her tongue. It was so bad she didn’t even manage to school her expression and her distaste showed.

“What? That bad?”

Gideon forced herself to swallow it down, took another sip because maybe it was just the first sip? But no, she felt like dying. Part of her wanted to pretend it was good and finish the whole mug but she couldn’t even get through three sips before she grumbled: “Did—did you put salt instead of sugar?”

At her response, Harrow immediately took the white container and tasted with a spoon. Her face fell and she looked at Gideon with round eyes. “Salt.” She looked mortified.

Gideon couldn’t handle it anymore and she rushed to the nearest sink and rinsed her mouth. “Oh, god, I feel like I’m dying.”

“I’m sorry! I thought it was sugar. You even said to add more.”

“It’s—fine. I just need water. I feel so thirsty now.”

Harrow rushed to pour her some water and she drank like, three glasses in one go.

Before they could continue and maybe talk, Camilla came into the kitchen with a suspicious look on her face and to say the pizzas arrived.

They joined their friends in the living room to eat pizzas and watch movies and Gideon could feel Harrow’s eyes on her. She glanced her way a few times, trying to reassure her that she was fine, and after some time, Harrow seemed to relax. Harrow even offered her a smile. A genuine, real smile.

Attempt #2 to Talk To Harrow Like A Normal Person: failed. But at least she got a smile.

With the heatwave calming down and the weather still feeling nice to be outside, they organised a picnic in a park. Which meant that Gideon could take her bike! She was always glad to have a chance to escape the hellhole that is underground rails. And as usual, she was the last one to arrive at the park, with twenty minutes late, when the rest of the group was working on setting everything up.

Still on her bike, she momentarily lost her balance when she saw Harrow. She was wearing black shorts with a cropped shirt (also black) that revealed her navel piercing and just seeing her bare legs made Gideon’s mind stop functioning completely.

So, the inevitable happened: she fell, rather embarrassingly, bruising her knees on the concrete path. At least, her phone didn’t crack during the fall. She got up rather quickly, while some of her friends came to her help, but she exclaimed immediately “I’m fine, I’m fine!” before they could worry more.

A few minutes later, she was seated on a bench, not far from the group, with Palamedes opening a first aid kit and working on her knees. Embarrassing, really.

“Gideon, you keep acting weird around Harrow.”

She sighed, “Yeah, I know… I don’t do it on purpose, though. It just happens.”

“Do you… I don’t know, want to get to know her?”

“I do, but like—every time I try to have a conversation, some disastrous thing happens to me. It’s like, I’m cursed or something. Also, I don’t know if she’s into women.”

Palamedes gave her a blank look. “Gideon. I don’t want to intervene but you should try to talk to her. You have more things in common than you think.”

She grumbled, while he applied something on her knees to cover the wounds. “I’m interested in her, you know,” she admitted. “Not as a fling. I wouldn’t do that to your friend.”

“Yes, I know that. I know you,” he added, finishing patching her up.

She thanked him and they both joined the rest of their friends for Gideon not talk to Harrow the whole time. She entirely avoided looking at her crush—because that’s what it is, isn’t it?—staying far away from Harrow and tending to her bruised knees and ego.

Attempt #3 to Talk To Harrow Like A Normal Person: failed. Again.

They were gathered at Dulcinea’s place and as usual, Gideon came in late. She found most of her friends in the living room, some on the couch and some on armchairs. And Harrow’s attention completely stolen by Dulcinea’s black cat, enamoured with each other. Gideon felt jealous but stupid at the same time so she focused on greeting her friends and talking to them about everything and nothing important. But from time to time, her gaze could fall on Harrow and the cat and Harrow talking to Ianthe while scratching the cat.

Gideon wasn't having a great time at all.

She was jealous of a cat, yeah, but… The picture of Harrow and the cat looked really nice. Harrow had a content expression on her usually stoic face; Gideon couldn’t hold a grudge against the cat for too long. Except when Ianthe made Harrow focus on her. That wasn’t cute. At all.

At some point, her emotions must have shown on her face because Dulcinea and Camilla dragged her in a room.

“Just talk to her,” said Camilla, as soon as the door closed behind them. And as if it was that simple.

“I’m trying,” she whined. “Last time I talked to her, she tried to poison me with salt.”

“Yes, and? You drink worse concoctions from Corona, why is this different?”

“Because, I’m not trying to get in Corona’s pants—although, I was close one time but it doesn’t count, it was like ten years ago. But still! I don’t even know Harrow likes me.”

Camilla and Dulcinea exchanged a glance.

Dulcinea asked: “What do you want from her, exactly?”

“I don’t know, get her instagram and then ask her on a date, like an aquarium date or coffee date—without salt this time—and maybe we could watch the sunset and then I lean into her and we kiss, and—”

“Oh, my God, Gideon, stop!” Camilla nearly face-palmed.

“Oh, darling, you want to date-date her,” Dulcinea said with a hand on Gideon’s shoulder.

“Yes.”

“You know, I have an idea.” At that, Gideon perked up, two seconds away from having stars in her eyes. “You trust me?”

She nodded vigorously.

Dulcinea left the room and went somewhere else, leaving Camilla and Gideon in an awkward moment of silence.

“Palamedes would probably kill you if you fuck this up.”

“I know, Cam. It’s not like I’m just trying to fuck her, you know me. I’m a sucker for love.”

Cam rolled her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. “Whatever. I just wanted to warn you.”

“He knows, already,” she admitted. “He wants me to talk to her. Says we have more things in common than I think.”

Dulcinea came back in the room, with a little bottle in her hands. She opened it and approached it to Gideon’s nose and Gideon smelled but her nose wrinkled immediately. It smelled like old socks.

“What’s this? It smells kind of bad, no?”

“It’s valerian, a stimulant for cats. Mine could probably sell me just to bathe in it, to be honest.”

Dulcinea sprinkled a few drops on Gideon’s shirt, stinky smell everywhere on her now.

“What do I do now.”

“Just go back there and let my cat do his thing.”

And she did. She got back in the living room and sat on the couch opposite to Harrow and the cat immediately upon smelling the stinky old socks stimulant, jumped from Harrow’s lap. He came to nuzzle Gideon’s chest and belly, rolling around to get the weird smell everywhere on him.

Gideon’s eyes looked up and she watched Harrow, looking at her a bit incredulously. Her hands started to pet the cat while still looking at Harrow and it really took only a few seconds before Harrow came to sit beside her, ignoring Ianthe mid-sentence.

Harrow sat sideways, a leg underneath her and an arm on the back of the couch to support her head while she was looking straight into Gideon’s eyes, very closely in fact.

Gideon swallowed. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Harrow said, with a small smile on her face. “You come here often?”

And Gideon just laughed because it’s such a stupid move that Gideon would do.

“Let’s do it again, eh? I’m Gideon.”

“And I’m Harrow, nice to meet you.”

“Say, Harrow, do you check your DMs?” While Harrow looked a bit taken aback, Gideon continued, “Because if I send you a message in the morning, I want to make sure you know it’s me.”

Harrow didn’t reply right away but she took out her phone, opening her instagram and turned it towards Gideon. Gideon took it and entered her own username and sent herself a request. While the cat was still rolling around on her belly, she took out her phone from her pants’ pocket and accepted Harrow's request.

When they both stored their phones away, Harrow leaned a little into her space and said, “So, you stole my cat.”

“Technically, he’s Dulcinea’s little monster. But I can share.”

At that, Harrow’s hand came down to caress the cat’s little head on Gideon’s belly. Gideon could feel the burn in her neck and ears. The cat made movements with his hands, as if calling Harrow to come closer and holy shit, Harrow actually did and is way closer to Gideon now.

Dulcinea was right: the cat did his thing, alright.

Harrow turned her gaze from the cat to look at her, still very close, and Gideon’s tongue came darting to wet her lips. Harrow seemed to follow the movement and didn’t pull away from her space and Gideon was so grateful she didn’t. Something inside her stirred.

“Harrow, listen. Are—are you single? Because I’d like to take you on a date sometimes.”

“I thought you asked for my instagram just to slide into my DMs?”

“Yeah, I initially planned to do that but I dunno—I don’t want to let more time pass, you know? I’ve been trying to talk to you for a while now.”

“Yeah, I noticed. When you burned your sleeve or when I poisoned you.”

Damn, she really went for her heart, didn’t she? At least, she didn’t know (yet) that the reason Gideon had fallen off her bike and wounded her knees was because she’d seen her crush’s bare legs.

Before Gideon could defend herself, Harrow added more shyly, “But, yes. I’m single and I’d like to go on a date with you, Griddle.”

“Oh, so we do nicknames now?” Gideon’s eyebrows shot up. She leaned closer to Harrow’s ear, while raking her brain to find something and she said, “my penumbral lady.”

Harrow rolled her eyes and retreated from her space but not so much and her hand slid from the cat to Gideon’s arm, very nonchalantly and it made Gideon want to scream.

They spent the rest of the evening just talking, getting to know each other, while the cat took his best nap in Gideon’s lap. She felt a warmth spread through her when, after gazing at the blueberries on the coffee table a few times, Harrow noticed it and grabbed a bowl, scooped a handful of blueberries and handed it to her. She felt so happy, eating her blueberries and talking to Harrow. She felt especially happy whenever she managed to get a smile or a laugh from Harrow—which didn’t happen a lot so it always felt like she won some grand prize! She catalogued every little detail Harrow shared, even the ones she noticed watching her talk about her job or her cats.

She loved it when Harrow wrinkled her nose whenever Gideon talked about something she disapproved. Or when she bit her lips, drawing Gideon’s attention to her two-toned lips and causing Gideon to stammer mid-sentence. Or the way she’d play with one of her necklaces, whenever she shared tidbits of her life, concentrating.

It seemed as though they were in a little bubble: they didn’t ignore their friends, they still interacted with them but it felt like they both wanted to stay in the moment. It was as if any break in silence would shatter the moment. Or if one of them were to get up, it’d be the end of Gideon-and-Harrow finally talking.

Unfortunately, after checking her phone, Gideon knew the moment was over.

“I have to go, I don’t want to miss the last metro.”

“Oh, you too?” Harrow asked, checking her phone as well, probably the metro’s schedule. “Let’s walk to the station together.”

And Gideon couldn’t be happier!

Leaving Dulcie’s place together, Gideon kept stealing glances at Harrow, when they walked side by side.

“What?”

“I like that you’re short,” she blurted, eliciting an eye-roll from Harrow.

“I’m the perfect height to kick you in the knees.”

She feigned being hurt and spun around to walk backwards, now facing Harrow. “Oh, are you threatening me, sugarlips?”

“Careful, idiot, or you’re going to fall on your knees again.”

Remembering the accident with her bike, she whipped around and got to Harrow’s side, shuddering even thinking about her wounded knees.

“Besides, you wouldn’t kick me.”

“What makes you say that?”

Gideon shrugged. “You look like a tenebrous overlord but I know you wouldn’t hurt a soul.”

“Oh, Griddle. I could break your heart, though.”

A pause. She turned her head to look at Harrow. “But you would break yours in the process too.”

It was past midnight but still people were on the streets, cars driving too close to the curb. Instinctively, Gideon switched sides so that she would be closer to the traffic on the sidewalk, instead of Harrow—in case of a car sliding their way. Harrow didn’t seem to notice it, focused on fetching her pass from her cargo pants’ many pockets.

They spent a few minutes looking at the giant rats from Drearburh ravaging a trashcan. Neither of them were surprised for their size, after all, Drearburh’s rats were evolving into something that looked pretty scary.

“Feels like they are going home to their wives and kids after a hard day at work.”

Harrow, eyeing her curiously, said, “They would most likely leave to buy some milk and never come back.”

Gideon pointed at a rat. “I bet that one murdered someone.”

Harrow rolled her eyes. She did that a lot actually; perhaps it’s a technique to get rid of a headache? Movement on the left got Gideon’s attention to shift, and she looked at the giant rat slide into a pizza box.

“You look like you’re thinking real hard. What’s on your mind?”

Gideon said, very seriously, “If you put a pizza on top of another pizza, you get two pizzas. But if you put a lasagna on top of another lasagna, it’s only one lasagna.”

Harrow blinked a few times, wrinkled her nose, shook her head before getting up and going down the metro stairs. Gideon, yelling “heyyy!”, followed her inside quickly.

Once they were at the bottom of the stairs and both passed the turnstile, Gideon felt… strange. Like she was missing something. Perhaps it was caused by the fact that they were going in opposite directions. So, they had to say goodbye before the last metro would come.

Looking at Harrow right now, Gideon didn’t want to leave. She wanted to spend more time with her, to talk with Harrow all night, to grab her hand, touch her cheeks, to run her fingers along her jaw and neck. To tell her stupid shit from work, to make her frown and to kiss her forehead. She really, really, didn’t want Harrow to leave.

“So,” she swallowed and took a step forward. “This is it, I’m going this way,” she said, gesturing behind her.

Harrow stepped forward too, closing the gap between them even more. “And me, this way.”

Fortunately, they were alone in the metro station but Gideon didn’t really care if people saw them. She exhaled and her gaze anchored on Harrow’s black, beautiful, eyes. She knew her cheeks was flushed, she could feel it, as well as her heartbeats going strong in her ribcage. Perhaps, Harrow could hear them; like a 4/4 kick drum pounding against her ribs.

She gazed into Harrow’s eyes for what felt like eternity, recording every movement of her eyes into memory. Her soft black lashes, her dark bushy eyebrows, everything that made her Harrow, she wanted to save it in her memory and replay later. And then, she gazed down, at Harrow’s soft lips.

“I really want to kiss you, Harrow.”

She watched as Harrow’s mouth fell open for a second and before even saying anything, she felt Harrow’s hands on her shirt, dragging her forward and smashing their lips together. Gideon’s heart swelled; if she felt this way from just a kiss, she wondered what being in love with her would be like?

Harrow tasted so sweet it was starting to become intoxicating and her skin burned. Gideon’s hand grabbed her waist, while the other glided on her jaw to her neck, feeling her hot skin on her fingertips. She made them closer than it was possible, crushing Harrow’s small body to her front, kissing her like her life depended on it. It nearly did, though, she could hear the clock ticking, seconds coming closer to the last metro. Kissing Harrow felt like it wasn’t enough, like it’d never be enough. She could feel Harrow’s own hands on her, she could feel Harrow’s urgency and want.

After some time, they both moved away reluctantly, exhaling slowly, trying to regain composure.

It was even more difficult now than ever to leave, the clock was ticking and she could still feel Harrow’s lips burning on hers.

“Talk to you later?” She whispered.

Harrow nodded and made a step backwards, forcing Gideon to do the same. It did something to break them from the moment as they both took a direction of the metro and found themselves on opposite platforms.

They were separated by the rails but Gideon could still feel her heartbeats and just looking at Harrow’s beautiful, small frame, in the yellow ugly light of the subway made her heart beat even faster. She wanted to run and get across the other platform just to hold her hand. She wanted to kiss her again, she craved it like air.

She opened her mouth and managed to whisper, “Harrow—”

And her words caught in her throat, because what she dreaded the most finally happened: both their trains came, with a few seconds of interval.

But.

Gideon—she couldn’t make it.

She stayed, rooted on the platform. Saw the doors open in front of her, people going in and others going out. She counted the seconds it would stay on the platform and it felt like eternity. She waited, counting her heartbeats, her mind screaming to go in but her feet were frozen in place.

And then the doors closed again, for the final time that night, until they reopened in the early morning.

She watched her last ride go by and after a few seconds, she watched Harrow’s train leave the station as well.

And the surprise of seeing Harrow still on the platform, like two lovesick idiots that didn’t want to part.

When they saw each other, Gideon couldn’t help it, she burst into laughter so hard, and she saw that Harrow was laughing too.

It was exciting, she wanted to run and jump and scream all at once.

When she calmed down, she watched the other woman and she offered her a smile, one of the many she’d offered that night.

And then, her feet finally moved and she started to run; from the corner of her eye, she saw Harrow running as well.

And they met at the same place they parted earlier, coming so close to each other like they never parted initially.

Harrow asked, “How did you know I’d stay?”

Gideon shrugged, “I don’t know, I just had a hunch. I thought, if you left, I’d just take the taxi or stay at Dulcie’s place for the night.”

Harrow moved closer, her hand grabbing Gideon’s. “I’m glad you stayed, Gideon.”