The house was quiet when Winter returned, the sky outside already bruised with the deep hues of dusk.

Banana meowed once from the living room, his usual enthusiastic greeting muted, as if sensing her mood. Winter barely glanced in his direction, her bag sliding from her shoulder onto the floor. Karina, sprawled comfortably on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs, turned her head at the sound of the door.

"Hey, you're back," Karina said casually, but her smile faded when Winter didn't respond, didn't even look her way.

Winter didn't stop, heading straight to her room and closing the door firmly behind her. The muffled voices of Karina and Banana-yes, it sounded like Karina was actually talking to the cat-faded as she threw herself onto her bed.

She stared at the ceiling for a moment, the day's weight pressing down on her like the blanket she didn't bother pulling over herself. Her body ached, her mind raced, but exhaustion still pulled at her.

Winter squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block everything out-the hospital bills she couldn't stop thinking about, the guilt that clung to her like a second skin, and the increasingly complicated feelings she had for the girl currently occupying her couch like she belonged there.

this isn't your life, karina, Winter thought bitterly, her fists clenching around the sheets. You don't get to make it harder than it already is.

But the truth she didn't want to face burned in the back of her mind: Karina already had.

Because Karina wasn't just some random girl she'd stumbled upon; she was someone who had crawled into Winter's heart without permission, her warmth and teasing laughter lighting up spaces Winter hadn't even realized were cold. And now, selfishly-so selfishly-Winter didn't want to let her go.

Her heart twisted painfully at the thought of handing her over to those people, those faceless clients who'd paid for this whole mess.

She'd tried to tell herself it didn't matter. That all she had to do was keep Karina alive, feed her, make sure she didn't escape. That was it. That was the deal.

But that wasn't all it was anymore, was it?

Winter groaned, rolling onto her side, curling into herself. She was being ridiculous, weak. She wasn't supposed to feel like this, wasn't supposed to get attached.

But it was too late. She'd already fallen for Karina's ridiculous grins, her effortless charm, the way she managed to be completely infuriating and yet so comforting all at once.

Winter's chest tightened as her thoughts drifted to her mom. She thought about the quiet resignation in her mother's eyes when Winter handed over the payment earlier that day, the relief that followed. Her mom didn't know where the money came from-and she never would.

Because no matter how much Winter hated herself for doing this, it was the only thing she could do. No one else was going to help.

The heaviness in her heart only grew. She whispered to herself in the darkness, trying to solidify her resolve. "Done is done. I'll hand her over. I have to."

But the words rang hollow, echoing in the quiet room as her chest burned with something that felt dangerously close to regret.

Her fists clenched tighter. All she had to do was ignore Karina, keep her at arm's length until this was over. Feed her, keep her alive. That's it. A mantra she keeps repeating.

But ignoring her had already become the hardest part.

Night blanketed the house in stillness, and Winter, after hours of tossing and turning, had finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep. But the peace didn't last.

Knock. Knock.

She groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Go away," she muttered, her voice muffled and half-asleep.

The knocking didn't stop. If anything, it grew louder, more persistent.

"Winter," came Karina's sing-song voice from the other side of the door.

Winter sat up abruptly, hair sticking out in all directions, eyes glaring daggers at the door. "What?"

The door creaked open, Karina poking her head in with a grin that could only be described as infuriatingly charming. "Come on. I have something for you."

Winter blinked, still groggy, and rubbed her face. "It's the middle of the night. Unless you've discovered the meaning of life, I'm not interested."

But Karina wasn't listening. She grabbed Winter by the wrist, tugging her up with surprising strength. "You'll thank me. Come on."

Grumbling under her breath, Winter allowed herself to be dragged to the kitchen, half-expecting chaos. But when they arrived, she froze.

The kitchen was spotless. No crumbs, no stray wrappers, no greasy pans abandoned in the sink. The counters gleamed, and the floor looked as though it had been scrubbed within an inch of its life.

"What..." Winter's voice trailed off as her eyes darted to the table. A full spread of food awaited her-steaming rice, a neatly arranged plate of vegetables, and something that smelled like garlic and soy sauce. Banana was already sitting on a chair, tail swishing expectantly like he'd been invited to the feast.

Karina stepped back, spreading her arms proudly. "Ta-da! A clean kitchen and dinner. All for you."

Winter stared, dumbfounded. "You... did this?"

Karina gasped, clutching her chest as though wounded. "What's that supposed to mean? Yes, I did this. Do I not radiate capable, domestic goddess energy?"

Winter blinked slowly, unsure whether to laugh or question the "domestic goddess" claim. Instead, she focused on the smell of the food, which was now making her stomach growl.

"Sit." Karina pushed her gently into a chair.

"I'm not hungry," Winter protested weakly, her stomach betraying her with another growl.

Karina leaned in, hands on the table, her grin turning mischievous. "Oh? Not hungry? That's funny, because your stomach says otherwise."

Winter crossed her arms, turning her head to the side. "I don't feel like eating."

Karina sighed dramatically, shaking her head as she stood straight. "Fine. If you won't eat willingly..."

Before Winter could process what was happening, Karina grabbed a spoon, scooped up some rice, and held it out to her. "Here comes the airplane!"

Winter recoiled, horrified. "Stop that. I'm not a child."

"You're acting like one," Karina quipped, waving the spoon closer to Winter's face.

Winter swatted at her hand, biting back a laugh. "Cut it out. You're ridiculous."

Karina ignored her, switching tactics by doing an exaggerated impression of Banana. "Meow! Eat, Winter! Meow!"

Even Banana gave her a judgmental glance, but it worked-Winter cracked, a laugh slipping out despite her best efforts.

"Okay, okay! I'll eat," Winter relented, grabbing the spoon from Karina's hand. "But only because I don't want you embarrassing yourself further."

Karina leaned back triumphantly, arms crossed as she smirked. "I knew you secretly wanted me to feed you again."

Winter's cheeks flushed, and she immediately started shoveling food into her mouth to hide her reaction. "You're crazy," she muttered between bites.

"Admit it, your girlfriend making you proud," Karina teased, nudging Winter's shoulder as she sat down across from her.

Winter tried to focus on the food, chanting silently in her mind: I don't need her. I've been fine on my own. I'll be fine again.

But every time Karina laughed, her resolve wavered. And when Karina threatened to "bring the airplane back" if she slowed down, Winter nearly choked from laughing too hard.

But as Karina grinned at her from across the table, Winter felt something warm settle in her chest. Something dangerous. Fine, it happens already. It's not like she can stop anyway.