Of cold floors and sad songs.

“You don’t answer you phone, you don’t reply messages and you just disappear. Tell me what’s wrong. Because we have to deal with this shit now or it will fucking drive you off to come cliff and you know what I mean”

“Here. *hands phone over*”

“*sighs and slowly sits on the floor*”

“I’m tired…*rests head on shoulder*”

“I know you are, love. I know *kisses forehead*”

“I’m the common factor in this…I’m the problem…I always mess things up”

“Fuck no. Because you’re the last person on earth that has to feel this way. It’s like every fucking thing you do it’s wrong. I wish every day there’s a book for us to refer to when shit like this happens. Do what you fucking want. Screw everyone else. Hell, don’t even fucking let me influence what you want. I’d rather you be alone than having fucked up assholes in your life”

” *breaks down into little sobs* ”

“Everything’s okay. Just hang in there for a little while more. It will be okay, I promise.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you Win. Even when no one completely know the whole situation ; I know you. I know your habits like you love bottling up everything inside and how you’re never good at telling anyone how you feel unless you draft it out. As independent as you are, I know you like having someone to love and care for you and be there next to you. So I really do believe that everything will be alright in the end because you’re Winnie. A born fighter. No one said that it’ll be easy but here’s something you told me once, ‘Always fight and thrive. It’ll be worth it in the end’ so you can’t give up now. It’ll be better.”

“Promise?”

“I pinky swear with all of me.”

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