as children, they hadn’t really been close. she’d been huffy and particular and a bit of a brow-beater when things weren’t exact, but she’d still adored him in her own, anxious little way. though hayden hadn’t always been who she confided in, winnie had found herself coming to him when she’d had nightmares or been sick with the worry of going to school. it seemed, to her, that she’d been awful -- only kind to him when she’d needed something.
and maybe that wasn’t how it really was. maybe that was just how she remembered it, but it didn’t stop her from feeling guilty now, as an adult. it was a weight she would carry with her forever, she knew, even though she was sure he’d forgive her if she asked.
winnie came back into her living room with two mugs ( one coffee, one tea ) and handed his to him. neither of them slept well, she was sure, but having him around again felt... safe. safer, anyway. “how are you feeling?” // @seizcd
