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    Summary

    “Shh, Beloved,” Harrow says, brushing the hair away from Gideon’s sweaty forehead. Gideon groans weakly, her eyes thick with sleep. She feels cool glass against her lips and opens, swallowing a few shaky gulps of cold water before the effort is too much and she spills the rest down her chest.
    “It’s okay,” Harrow soothes.

    ----

    Griddlehark sickfic for all the souls out there who need some comfort today. You aren't alone.

    Bonus gift in the notes.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    1,245
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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