Harrow pulls the towel around herself like a shroud, hugging herself and letting her wet hair drip for a moment, just to bask in the warm feeling the moment inspires.

But the moment has to pass and Gideon makes a good point: she's exhausted. Surely they both are. She lifts the towel over her head and starts to try herself, pointedly not peering up at Gideon's naked wet muscular body, flushed from the heat of the bath. Nope. Definitely not looking.

God those arms, though.

"If they don't, I'm sleeping on the fucking floor," she announces with a little smirk as she stands, wrapping the towel around herself like a dress.