Stavanger Bay No one dies from love

Reverie nodded slowly, but her pulse was rising. She settled when Bridget did, and carefully leaned into a prone position to allow her better access. It felt — vulnerable. Intimate, really, and that sent a flush through her. But she did her best to stay still.
And failed, increasingly, as Bridget's touch drifted lower. It was the anticipation of pain that kept her on edge, wincing and then apologizing with every move — It doesn't hurt yet, it's just that I know it will, She explained once, hushed, before falling silent. At least until the healer touched upon the place where it did hurt. Then she flinched, and cried out, and sucked in a harsh breath through her teeth when the flash of pain did not fade. Instead it intensified, echoing through her, turning into a familiar clenching feeling. Reverie could do nothing but try to focus on breathing steadily through the storm.
That - that hurt, She managed after a moment.