Pearl doesn't care, she doesn't want to care, she can't stop. But each of Garnet's words stabs little pinpricks into her nape, the pulse between her temples growing thick enough to burst. Tiny awful guilty pangs of awareness -- how she must look to Garnet right now, hips bucking greedy, whimpers and pleas flowing senseless from her mouth. Animal.

"No, please," it comes out a half-sob through her tight throat, the jerks of her body growing sharp with desperation. She needs release and she needs to stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking. "Garnet--"