Pearl still can't look; she shuts her eyes, hot tears welling from under her pale lashes. Her shoulders are shuddering for real, now, a sniffle trembling in her nose. Chest tight and hot, like there's a fist clenched around the fluttering muscle of her heart: a sensation that creeps outwards, colonizes her body, makes her limbs fragile.

This feels -- deep. Deeper than they've gone before, maybe, for all that there's no fancy toys, no wild scenario, just the two of them in the bathroom. And it's terrifying. Like walking an electric tightrope of thrill and pleasure out over an abyss where good and bad feelings no longer have distinction. Her safeword floats into consciousness, slowly, as if from a great distance. It's in the back of her throat: coda, coda, coda. She can say it, quick or stammering, clear or desperate, and dive out the escape hatch. But she waits -- something caught in her throat -- and after a moment the impulse fades. It's Rose. Just Rose, all Rose. The question hangs in the air.

"It's..."

Her voice teeters on the brink of a sob. "C-can you hold me for a second?"