featherlight ✅

make me understand

"I will try to fix you"

Kat is avoiding me. 

And even though I know I should take that as a sign that she doesn't want me around, I can't help the fact that I'm looking for her this lunchtime, scanning the cafeteria for the now-familiar dark hair and long cardigan. I want to prove to her that I'm worth trusting, and that she doesn't have to stay away from me now that I know what she was hiding.

I eventually find her outside, sitting on the steps and staring miserably at a Tupperware in her hands. I sit down next to her, rearranging the cap on my head. She doesn't even acknowledge my presence. I clear my throat, hating how awkward my knowledge of her struggles 2has made our relationship.

It doesn't have to be that way.

"Hey, KitKat."

She seems to finally notice me then, turning to meet my eyes briefly before looking back at the meal in her hands. "My mom packed lunch for me," she says dully. "We had leftover food from last night, so she made a roast beef sandwich for me and my sister."

"Lucky you," I say, as cheerfully as I possibly can given the circumstances. I don't succeed. 

She gives me a hard look. "Yeah, lucky me, right? Because I either eat this and feel like absolute shit afterwards or I throw it away and feel like absolute shit afterwards. My mom has made this for me and I can't... I just can't. God, I hate myself." Her face is contorted with anguish as she turns her attention back to the plastic box in her fingers. "Will you eat it for me, Ashton?"

"Kat, you know you can't do that."

"Why not? It won't be a waste of food, and my mom makes amazing roast beef; you'll love it."

"No." I don't know how I manage to sound so firm when my chest is damn near exploding.

"Please," she begs, voice swathed in desperation. "I'll do anything- just eat my food for me. Please." She reaches towards me, and I put my hand out to catch hers, noticing her thin wrist, her pale skin. I wonder for a brief moment whether I would be able to run my fingers over hers with my eyes closed and map her bones.

"I'm not going to fucking do that," I say calmly, with a steadiness that I don't feel. "You should eat it."

She looks away then, flinching, and stares at her meal with a heartbreakingly panic-stricken expression, eyes darting over the food, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Her lip quivers. "I can't."

I lean in closer to her. "You can, Kat."

She shakes her head. "You don't understand, Ashton!"

"Then make me understand."

"You can't just think that once you know, you can just fix me. You can't. And don't try to." She says it haltingly, as though she's had to psych herself up to say it. "I don't want your pity. And if you think that your telling me to eat will solve everything, then I'm sorry because that's not true." She lets out a long, shaky breath.