Morgan seemed in need of comfort, and Melody longed to provide it--but she couldn't quite convince herself that she wouldn't do more harm than good. So she focused back toward Freya.<br/><br/>The girl who slept on top of her every night--some impish part of Melody couldn't help framing it that way--was further disrobing. Melody was embarassed at herself for so intently and obviously watching and admiring Freya's emerging breasts, for taking pride in Freya's quakes and the wetness between Freya's legs, for her fingernail blatantly playing across the fabric of her bra over her nipple. And she was embarassed with herself not for saying "Dare!" But for the hungry, husky, eager tone in her voice as she said it.