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Travis shuts the door behind him, giving him and Winter some privacy

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Travis shuts the door behind him, giving him and Winter some privacy. But this isn't the first time Winter freaks out and relapses, to people, this may seem like she's overreacting over small things, but to us? We knew how triggering it was for her, that's exactly why I do it, its easier for her to hate me. It was easier for both of us.

Locking myself in my room, I sit on the edge of my bed, my hands digging into my scalp as I run through my hair, memories of the past flickering in my head.

She hasn't eaten in days. Fuck, she hasn't even moved.

I look to where she hides in the bed and let out a sigh. She won't talk to me. She won't even fucking look at me or even acknowledge me. As I take another step closer, her form doesn't even move."Winter?"

Nothing.

She ignores me like she has for days now, not a snarky comment, a roll of eyes, or even an insult. Absolutely fucking nothing. "Winter?" I try again, but not even a twitch. There was a time when she would let me in when I was the only one who got to her when she was in this state, but that was long gone.

I tried to be patient with her, but after days of her not eating it had run thin.

I grabbed the thick heavy blanket and ripped it off her, trying to draw a reaction, but she still said nothing, she just continued to stare at the wall. Her cheekbones are more defined, her cheeks hollow, and she lost too much weight.

I move to stand in front of her, "Bacardi." I tried again, although now my voice was a little rougher. Her eyes met mine at the sudden change of tone, and the familiar name only I called her, but she was looking straight through me. "Just say something. Anything." I almost plead, losing the careless act I always pretended to have.

I hated being ignored, but being ignored by her was different, it was torture, it was intolerable, I would rather we scream and fight than have zero contact with her.

Something moved in her eyes, like she was pulled back to reality for a moment, like she could hear me and see me, and drink in my presence. But the look in her eyes, almost made me regret ever looking into them.

Pain.

Pain that had been inflicted upon her over and over again, by me and others. She tried to hide it, but she I could read her like an open book. "You need to eat." I push, straight to the point. She blinks once, twice, three times, each slower than the other. I hand her the cup of warm water, "You need to hydrate first, you need it." I instruct but my words fall on deaf ears, she doesn't move, not a fucking inch.

"Winter," I call out to her again, trying to pull her back to me. A crease forms between her brows as she stares down at the cup. I wait, the air thickening with tension.

Her hand reaches out and pulls the cup from my hands, her fingertip, brushing over mine as she holds the cup to her lips and takes a sip."There you go." I encourage, tilting the cup slowly so she drinks more water. Suddenly, her hands clench around the glass, her thin fingers pale, as her knuckles whiten with the tight grip.

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