Everyone watched.
Gia crossed the space between her stone and his stone with the specific, committed stride of someone who has been collecting information for three days and has made a decision and is executing it before the part of herself that runs on caution can countermand it.
She sat down on his lap.
Not beside him. On him. Her weight settling over his thighs, her back to his chest, the specific, audacious position of someone who has chosen a location that is not ambiguous.
"'GIA—'" Aisha's voice.
"'WHAT—'" Meijin's voice.
"'Are you—'" Preet's voice, pitched somewhere between shock and something else.
Even Nara turned. The specific, involuntary head turn of someone who had not seen this coming and is taking a second to reprocess.
Celia stood up.
"'What the hell are you doing,'" she said.
