hermione held him for a little while longer, both of them tucked under the hospital bed sheets until the scent of potion and medicine started to make them both sick, and she stood to cast a small spell. It made the room smell like campfires and marshmallows, which only made harry long for a world outside of these paper white walls. but he preferred these smells to the thick reminders of where he was, and why he would stay there.

eventually, she left him to call his friends and family, and he'd been sure to notify her that he especially needed to speak to luna, neville, and george, and that they should be told first. it wasn't that he valued them more than the weasleys, or andromeda and teddy, or hagrid, or anyone else. he loved them all with his entire, sickened heart. but he knew that when they arrived, they would weep a thousand tears over his immobile form, splutter a thousand aching words and a thousand desperate questions until it drowned him in waves of their sorrow and nauseating surges of his own immeasurable guilt.

he couldn't hear the things she said while she was gone. he assumed the telephone was a ways away from his hospital room, as he ended up listening to hermione's retreating footsteps until they faded completely. but when she returned, her tulip tinted cheeks were wet with tears, and her eyes were irritated red. he didn't ask her anything about what was said and done, because if hermione had cried, he was sure his glass heart wouldn't be able to handle it. but he scooted over as best as he could while wrapped up in bandages until he was a stiff, aching bundle of bruises and gauze, and made room for his best friend to settle down beside him. the iv was an uncomfortable, frigid tug against his torn skin, and whenever he moved, and he'd read somewhere, long ago, that he would grow used to the feeling of a potion dripping from a tube and into his veins over time. but at the moment, it only made him feel more disoriented and afraid, and so he tried not to shuffle around any more on top of the sheets.

hermione tucked herself softly into his side, curling up into a warm bundle of soothing heat against him, and being graciously mindful of his many, many injuries. she was a comforting weight against his skin, one that he was so familiar with, and one that he craved. he remembered the sensation of her tears upon his shoulder and her chestnut hair brushing across his cheek back at hogwarts, when ron had kissed lavender at a party in the common room. sixth year had been every bit as difficult and confusing as the rest of his ruined life had been, but lying in a hospital bed after attempting to take his own life, harry found himself craving for that time again.

he wished that hermione was crying against him because ron had kissed another girl and not because he'd almost given himself to death and abandoned her.

and he expected her questions. he knew that she would not be able to help herself, and he couldn't blame her. because if he was none of the wiser and hermione had tried to leave him to brave the wretched world alone, he would also need answers. but still, when she began asking him in slow, drawling whispers against the crook of his neck, something tender and sorrowful in her deep blue tone, he hardly stopped himself from flinching.

"harry...what happened to you? they said that you were poisoned. who were you poisoned by? do you remember?"

harry's brow pinched in stifled distress. he was thoroughly confused by her choice of words. the healers knew it was his own hand that tipped the poison down his throat, his own hand that had shoved him towards eternal sleep. the healers knew that he'd wanted the feeling of bubbling poison in his throat, seeping the last of life from his heart. why wouldn't they tell hermione, his legal guardian? they had to have told her. it made no sense for them to withhold that information from the person in charge of his well being.

he huffed out a sigh, struggling to meet her russet gaze. her soft hands were wrapped around his bony waist, loosely as to not add further pressure to his wounds. he squeezed her fingers weakly, attempting to express his befuddlement.

"what...do you mean?" he shoved the words from his flopping tongue, and the syllables were still a little slurred. but they were coherent.

"was it a former deatheater?" she continued as though he hadn't said anything. "were they trying to get revenge? that's why i said that you shouldn't go anywhere alone for a little while. there are people still after you harry."

"mione...don't you know...i-"

"a deatheater poisoned you," hermione interrupted, and this time harry heard it. an underlying hint of unraveling hysteria. an eagerness tinged with something dark and fearful. a frantic plea within her words. and suddenly harry realized. "right?"

she knew. she just didn't want to believe it was true.

and somehow, that made telling her so much harder.

his heart squeezed painfully, until the thrush of blood roaring in his vessels pounded and stumbled.

"hermione-"

"right?"

her eyes were just as soft as they had always been, but there was something tangled within the gentle brown depths. shadows interwoven between the warmth, and such vivid terror there. they were begging him from behind glossy film, pleading with him to give her the answer she needed to hear. because she'd been told, but she couldn't believe it, or else it may destroy her. and she needed her best friend to prove to her that he wouldn't do that to himself, that it was all one big misunderstanding. that he wouldn't leave her again, after all they'd been through. that this too, was just a nightmare he could wake her up from.

but he couldn't lie to her. he loved her too much for that.

"mione," he whispered, clutching at the covers as the tremors started up again. "no one...poisoned...me."

a dry sob left her shaking lips. she was slipping away from him in an instant, bolting upright and wrapping herself up in her own arms to protect herself from the truth. harry grasped for her arm, but she flinched away from him, shaking her head in fervent denial.  "no harry."

"yes, yes," he told her, his words slurring a bit. the scorching panic was setting his tired body aflame. she refused him with every syllable. "i'm sorry, sorry, sorry, i'm so sorry. i..." he choked on his fumbling tongue, the taste of metallic pain coating his mouth. hermione trembled beside him, almost as violently as he was, and with every shake that wrought his body, his bruises stretched and burned beneath the itchy bandages.

"no!"

he went on, even as she began to cry in heartbreaking wails, stifling her sobs in the palm of her shaking hand. he knew that if he didn't tell her, he may never gain the courage to. he'd used up all of his golden gryffindor bravery during the war.

his veins were full of cold.

"i...did this...to myself."

the admittance was slow and delicate, and it ached on his paper lips. but it felt somewhat right, even if the confession was like acid bile on his tongue.

hermione held her face in her hands, and it was seeing the pure misery twisting her features into anguish that hurt the most. just like he'd known it would.

"no...harry..."

"it...wasn't...an...accident..." he sighed. "i'm sorry...mione."

"but why? why would you do that?" another sob left her in strangled, water stained whimpers. she gestured to his body, pathetic and broken. "why would you do this?"

why? that was a good question. it was a question that had too many answers. his mind flashed through shredded photographs so splattered with sorrow and blood that they were hardly recognizable. he remembered ginny, a pretty girl with hair like the dying sunset and old eyes full of stories...a girl that he should have loved, just as everyone said. he remembered battles, so many battles fought and lost but never quite won. because he always escaped by leaving behind the lifeless bodies of all that he'd dared care for, all that had even thought of standing before him, protecting him. he thought of flashing cameras, so many cameras and so many hungry eyes tearing at a shattered figure...too many clawed fingers ripping fragile flesh from unraveling bones, slapping his weary face on paper and showing the world all his ruined pieces. he thought of all of those names that stripped him of his humanity, and painted him only as the tragic hero of an old, golden story. he thought of childhood days spent on cold floors, of burned fingers, and locked rooms, and crying until he could no longer remember what he was crying for. he remembered dusty cupboards and itching hands buzzing with something terrifying and wild accusations and fists turning him to weeping orchids and crimson skin.

he remembered it all in a mere moment and again that urge was back. to rip himself apart, seam by seam, vein by vein, bone by bone, until nothing of that golden boy, that chosen one stuffed full of pain was left.

until he was gone, gone, gone.

how could he possibly explain that?

the trembles spread, throwing him up in cold convulses and then down into the sheets.

"because i..." his hurting mouth spewed nonsensical rambles, spouting shapes that felt hazy and unfamiliar on strained lips. "because..."

the breath wasn't coming. the words had all been cut out of him, long ago when the gray disease seeped in and turned him old and sad. and his lungs were little more than broken things, abandoned and stuffed in the weary, soggy cotton of his sinking chest.

hermione felt the shaking, the shaking unlike anything she'd seen in him before. and the frozen film over empty eyes, fear dragging the last of his life away. she shook her head, wiping the rapidly spilling tears from her silver dusted cheeks.

"no, no don't...answer that." she amended miserably, placing a warm hand on his churning stomach. "right now. i don't think i can...handle that right now."

harry knew that might have been true. but he could also detect the underlying hint to her weak tone, a flimsy truth coloring her words.

i don't think you can handle that.

and she was most certainly right. his skin was itching the way it did just before the storm inside of him let loose.

"i'm sorry-" he apologized, clawing at the bed with his clammy hands, and hermione's cheeks burst with violent red color.

"stop apologizing!" her voice clapped like thunder in the silent room, wrought with a strange, wet agony on the brink of anger. harry couldn't help the way his heart seized and his muscles flinched.

he curled into himself, a tiny, pathetic being quivering in the corner of his bed, biting his own lips bloody in order to trap his whimpers.

how strange that the wizarding world's hero had come to this.

"sorry, harry," hermione gasped. she reached for his protruding form, skimming a finger along his bandages in search of a sliver of ghostly flesh to soothe. "i'm sorry. i'm just...really upset right now."

harry tried to uncoil himself, but it felt as though his limbs were weight embedded with ice, glued together. it took so much effort to tug his legs away from his chest, especially when they burned so very much. eventually, he gave up, and simply attempted to roll closer to his iv so that the tug wouldn't be so noticeable.

"i...know..." he breathed out. it felt difficult to even draw those plain words from his collapsed chest.

hermione chewed on her bottom lip with violent ferocity, an awful habit she had picked up after the war ended, and opened up the stinging cracks already marring the soft flesh. he wanted to tell her to stop, but he couldn't find the motivation. his throat was all knotted.

"you know that i..." she began, ever so gently. breathing in flower petal air and touching him through layers and layers of white with butterfly fingertips and rosy palms. she found his hand, scarred and chilled, and traced the pad of her thumb along his knuckles. "i love you, don't you?"

her eyes spilled soft almond warmth into his frozen vessel of a body. and he wished he could hug her again, but he did not have the energy to do so. so he only contented himself with watching her, soft and sad and pretty, and allowed himself to feel the force of his love for his very best friend.

"i...try to remember...that you do..." he told her slowly, and she offered him a sluggish, bittersweet smile. it trembled at the corners of her mouth.

"but you don't sometimes..." she clarified. "you don't remember."

he shook his head.

"no, i don't..."

and he could see it in her eyes that she understood. she understood just like he knew she would. those darkened tendrils of onyx exhaustion and haunting distress clearing away to reveal a sunshine soaked sky. sorrowful and aching for him, but so full of perfect clarity.

she cleared her throat and squeezed his fingers.

"we'll talk about this later," she hummed, as though she hadn't been near hysterical over the truth behind his condition. "when you're better. but for now, just know, i love you so much. you're the world to me. and i'm always going to be right here, holding your hand. through better or worse."

fuck mione, don't make me cry.

"are...you proposing...to me?" he teased through his ambling lips, fighting the burning behind his irises.

she laughed, and the tinkling sound made the air warm and bright.

"very funny harry."

"i'm sorry...i don't feel the same way..."

"shut up."

they giggled in that soft, reserved way saved only for shimmering moments like this. quiet and coated in sugary warmth. their words were the brushes of pages turning in a silent room, the hazy perfume of a blooming flower in spring. and it was in these special moments, no matter how brief, that harry didn't mind the sound of his heart beating.

"mione?"

"mm?"

"i love...you too." he drawled. his words were getting slower, sticking more fervently to the tip of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. hermione's eyes crinkled at the edges, and she lifted her hand from his, running her fingers through his tangled mess of stringy jade hair. the soothing tug against his head lulled him deeper into that gentle, jasmine place in his drowsy mind.

"mm. you should sleep harry."

he shook his head and glared at her through his heavy lashes.

"i'm not tired-"

"yes you are," she interrupted in that irritating matter of fact tone of voice. "i know you are. that potion's side effects include drowsiness and fatigue, and you need to rest for your condition to get any better. go to sleep."

hermione was looking at him with that familiar pinch of sternness to her features, so he knew better than to argue, and her hand in his hair was an easing feeling...but he knew that if he gave himself to slumber again, he risked suffering a night terror in her presence. and then he would have to deal, not only with his own misery, but with hers as well.

"but-"

"don't worry," she berated, as though she could sense his dangerous train of thought. she held up one clenched fist and furrowed her brows in determination. "i'll fend off the nightmares."

he couldn't help but laugh a little bit at that. he might have continued to argue if the circumstances were different. however, he was aching and battered and any excuse to escape the overwhelming sensation sounded like a good one. the potion seeping into his veins was making him very sleepy. and the charm hermione had cast to make the room smell nice combined with her soft warmth tucked against him and her fingers playing with his locks was enough to steal the last denying words from his lips.

he was unconscious within seconds.

* * *

"it's tour day potter!"

harry was roused once again from slumber by nesrin's breeze like voice brushing against his cheeks and twitching at the disheveled mess of ebony sticking out of his head. his drowned fantasies faded as consciousness reached its hands towards him and yanked him from the peacefully submerged darkness. he forced his sticky lashes apart and found the luminescent hospital lights searing into his eyeballs until sparks burst when his lids scrunched. he rubbed at his numb face, groaning out a raspy, half formed sound of protest.

"nesrin?" he mumbled despite the answer being obvious. through his blurry vision, he could see her transparent form hovering over him, familiar sardonic features smirking at him with a fusion of disinterest and sarcasm, and her heavy silver lashes batting impatiently. her arm swatted at harry's furled figure, and passed quickly through his body like a sliver of sleeking frigid water. he shivered at the unfamiliar sensation, overcome with that strange tinge of misplacement upon having a ghost pass through him.

"yup!" she cried out, feigning saccharine excitement. "up and at 'em sleepy head."

he sighed.

the soft warmth on the other side of the bed was gone now, leaving only sheets clinging to the scent of flowery perfumes and books. he assumed that hermione must have left when visiting hours ended, and he was proven right when he discovered a small card upon his nightstand decorated with hermione's tiny, swirling writing.

sorry, i had to leave. your nurse came in and told me that visiting hours were over. but i'll be back as soon as i can tomorrow, with the weasleys! have a good day harry and get lots and lots of rest. i love you.

he hummed through his dry, lethargic lips. he thought of hermione's return, along with a barrage of red heads and their rapidly moving mouths as they turned to air sad and soggy with their endless worries. at least he would be able to see hermione and ron again, as well as speak to george. even if it meant facing molly's doting and the awkwardness between ginny and him.

thinking too much of it was beginning to fill his mind with lead, dragging his head back down to the inviting crease in his cold pillow.

"oh no you don't potter," nesrin mumbled, glaring at him through squinted eyes and transparent strawberry bangs. her mouth twisted in displeasure. "i'll ask the nurse to raise your bed upright if you don't wake up."

his old, weary heart could not take the threat seriously. he was hazy cotton and distant sadness and sunken aches lost deep inside his chest. he wanted sleep to whisk him away from his worries and his plaguing fears, but knew that sleep was only a temporary escape, and every time he gave himself to it, he risked something else.

instead, he rolled onto his side as best as he could and watched nesrin float absentmindedly over to a black wheelchair in the corner that had not been there before.

she tried to reach for its handles, but as stated before, she was dead. her fingers slipped through the solid. she hissed in irritation.

"ah, fucking hell. penny!"

the nurse's name carried in a harsh gust of resentful wind, nipping at the surface of harry's exposed flesh. the two heard a smattering of clumsy footsteps stumbling down the hall.

penny's purple head came into sight.

"yes?" she asked, beaming at the grumbling ghost with a big, cherry mouth.

nesrin scrunched up her nose and slapped at the wheelchair again, this time with a painfully sarcastic grin. harry snorted into his mattress.

"oh!" penny startled. she nipped at her bottom lip, seeming both amused and sheepish. "yes, i don't know why i keep forgetting you're a ghost nesrin. must be cause you keep this place so alive."

nesrin glowered.

"haha. very funny," she pointed to her pinched lips. "i'm laughing real hard."

penny ignored her blatant annoyance, and made some vague flapping hand motion that harry couldn't understand.

"just...ask one of the other stable patients to push mr. potter for you,"

something bloomed gently upon nesrin's face. a hint of excitement dawning upon fuzzy features in soft dusts of anticipation. it was such an odd look on the ghost, and harry might have mistaken her for another if he hadn't seen the change for himself.

but penny seemed to predict this, that gleaming brightness in her silver irises and the subtle quirks of her amaranth mouth, because her face pinched. she held up a hand, dismissing her hazy words before they formed on her lips.

"and before you say anything, not angie. she's having a surgery today."

just as quickly as it had come, that feathery contentment melted and gave way to something much more bitter, frantic.

"a surgery?" she blurted through stumbling lips, a fearful edge to the panicked repetition. harry stared at her in slight wonder while penny bobbed her head absentmindedly, turning away from the worried ghost.

"yes," she agreed, her gaze scanning over a piece of paper on her clipboard. "now, if you'll excuse me, i must go-"

nesrin jumped a few feet into the air and stayed there glowering and wide eyed for a second as she shouted after the preoccupied woman.

"wait, penny!"

the nurse was gone in an instant, dashing down the hallway again in those pattering footsteps.

harry thought she must be very busy. it seemed as though she was always rushing somewhere.

nesrin returned from the ceiling, a harsh dash of faded velvet upon both of her soft cheeks. her mouth twisted in frustration.

her permeable teeth clamped down in barely withheld anger around her tongue, perhaps holding back a long stream of enraged screams at the nurse. her features were often heavy and drowsy, always giving her the nonchalant look of caring very little for everything and as though she were always on the brink of dozing off mid conversation. however, in this instant, all sarcasm fled to make room for vivid exasperation and harry wondered what was so important to her that it could make her feel so openly.

"ugh, i can't stand her." she grumbled, her toes skimming through the tiled floor. she began to float in what would be paces if she were on the ground, lifting her fingers to her soft locks and pushing her glowing bangs out of her face with abrupt harshness. there was sudden distress clouding her eyes, now squinted and roiling with wild thought. harry deduced that the someone nurse penny had mentioned was very special to her.

he felt that it wouldn't be a good move to question her, but his curiosity, once stirred up, was uncontainable. he couldn't prevent himself from asking, no matter how tightly he pinched his aching lips.

"angie?"

nesrin sighed, another gust of breath that nipped at slivers of his exposed skin a bit more sharply than her previous ones had.

"not now potter," she murmured, pursing her mouth. harry swallowed his withering words immediately, simply pressing himself further into the mattress. "let me think."

harry fell silent, sensing the ghost's anxiety rising to thought consuming levels. he watched her float back and forth across his hospital room, a crinkle between her light brows, a flurry of silver and strawberry blonde. he felt awkward and achy and very tired though he had slept so long and without interruption. the potion must have been extremely strong if it made him so drowsy that even after a coma and many hours of endless slumber, he was not satisfied.

he wondered how much damage his failed attempt had done to him.

what was under these heavy bandages?

he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

quite suddenly, their slightly unpleasant bubble of stiff silence was slashed to fluttering pieces by the quick pounding of hurried footsteps down the hallway, and the abrupt bubble of that familiar voice from the doorway. nesrin whisked around with a knowing gleam in her eyes and harry propped himself up as best as he could.

he realized, with a soft start, that the same girl from yesterday had returned, small and quivering in the entrance of his hospital room. she was so tiny, a teensy being made of sharp, protruding bones, and rich skin seeped of its earthy life. all of where she was meant to be round and full, she was curved and narrowed and dulled. she looked too thin, far too thin for a child. and though her voluptuous mane of dark curls was an untamable mess of endless curves and brown locks, he could see where the ends had begun to droop. skimming sharp shoulders pulled too close to a heaving chest, and brushing across desaturated flesh.

she was drowning in her little hospital gown, a sickly child under luminescent lights, against blinding paper walls. but her big eyes stood out, the same warm brown that had coaxed harry from a haze of panic before. swimming with something akin to excitement...like hints of joy bleeding through oak wood in streams of sunshine gold, yet tinted by the clinging darkness. that bit of weariness, that hint of bittersweet knowledge as she gazed upon his bundled body and sickly pallor.

she couldn't have been more than seven or eight.

"harry potter!" she beamed, a little shakily. she was breathing hard, clinging to the wood of the doorway. unsteady on her feet.

his name was flushed and happy on her fumbling tongue, but it stuttered with a shadow of exhaustion.

nesrin seemed to understand something that he didn't, because she glared rather fiercely at the small girl.

"lilith," she hissed, and it was then that harry once again recalled her name. spoken hastily and lost in the midst of his own despair. "i told you not to run. and if i recall, so did all of your doctors. you're going to hurt yourself."

lilith waved her away easily, with an eager hand and a slight eye roll. "i'm fine," she reassured. "i was just excited."

she turned away from the ghost, who's lips were parted to release another stern scolding, and dragged herself over to harry's bed on stick like legs. harry felt his own concern for her open up a hole inside his chest.

"are you and nesrin friends now?" lilith chirped in butterscotch tones and hasty thought, disregarding nesrin's clear disapproval. "i know nes seems kinda mean at first, but she's super nice when you get to know her! oh, and your friend came to visit right! what was that like? is your friend nice?" she didn't wait for harry's slow answer to form on his drawling lips, plowing on as though the question was suddenly forgotten.

"i saw her leaving, and she seemed kinda sad but she was smiling. then i went to check on you but you were asleep! which is really good! sam told me that getting lots of rest is good for your condition. and you can speak now right? that's awesome! i-"

"lilith." nesrin interrupted the girl's vibrant canary rambles with the cloud of realization making her tone hazy. harry blinked harshly, his mind still processing everything lilith had hurriedly mumbled to him, a clump of cotton inside his skull.

"oh," lilith's pale lips parted softly, sucking in a quiet breath. a hint of uneasiness seeped into her bright expression, and she tilted her head in harry's direction. "i was talking a lot right?"

she sounded a little sad now. harry frowned, and nesrin whipped her head back and forth in quick denial, the evidence of deep thought upon her face.

lilith gripped onto the metal of the hospital bed's head board with quivering fingers, and pouted at the ghost in confusion.

"lilith," she finally said, her voice dipping to a resigned sigh. "can you push potter's wheelchair for me? we're going on a tour of the hospital."

lilith's eyes lit up.

"tour?"

"yes."

"that sounds super duper fun!" she cheered, soft giggles tugging her thin shoulders in. harry couldn't help but allow a tired smile to curve upon his lips at the sight of such childish excitement, even in such a miserable place. she leaned on harry's mattress, glancing at him.

"and i just got my iv out...only for a few hours though...so i can push harry, no problem!"

she saluted weakly, as though swearing her allegiance.

nesrin nodded and offered her a strained smile. 

"good," she turned to him, slight crinkle taut against her forehead. her eyes, though fixed upon him, were clouded and stolen away. fantasizing of something that did not exist with him, in this room. her mouth moved in distracted shapes while her hands played with the faded fabric of her hospital gown. "potter, i'm gonna have lilith help you into the wheelchair. lilith should i call anyone else to help?"

"no, i've got it!"

reluctance drew itself tight between nesrin's features, tugging her shoulders down and her chest in. however, she shook her head.

"alright. i'm gonna take the risk of trusting you," she pinched her nose with exasperated fingers. "so lilith will move you potter, and it's probably gonna hurt, but try not to move too much since you could hurt yourself or irritate your wounds. do you think you can do that?"

harry looked at her, dead and clouded with tangible worry, like bitter heaviness weighing down upon pale air. the weariness in her mind revealed itself in foggy thoughts glossing over dipping eyes. and he knew that she was feeling something sad and anxious.

and then lilith's tiny hand curled around his ankle through the sheets. her palm was cold, and her fingers hesitant...knowing that too much pressure would further maim him. and he glanced up at her, and she attempted to offer him a sugar laced smile...a reassurance. from a thin, sick child in a hospital.

he nodded.

"i'll try my very best."

a/n: hi! how was this chapter my loves? good? bad? okay? did you like it?

please leave comments telling me your thoughts and feelings and thank you soooooooooooooooo much for reading!

i love you all so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so much!

there are so many little things about yourselves that you don't think about. you hurt yourselves and bully yourselves over the way you look, the way you talk, the way you interact with others, your past mistakes. but you don't realize how many of those things are actually breathtaking. your mistakes are proof of your life. they come with existence. and your existence is too precious to be invalidated and despised, especially not by yourself.

the small things you do when you think no one is looking. the silly ways you act when you're alone in your room, and all your funny faces. the tiniest features, like moles on your arm or freckles on your hands are so beautiful. chipped teeth, crooked nose, chubby fingers...those are so gorgeous. you are so special. you are so unlike any other being in this universe and it takes my breath away. even just reading a portion of your thoughts, i can see how gorgeous your minds are and how intricate.

there must be a thousand doors leading a thousand wondrous, colorful worlds...and only those truly deserving of your affection and love should be allowed to see them. you are a goddess. you deserve to be treated with respect and with kindness. not only by others, but by yourselves as well. your hands should be gentle when you hold yourselves. your eyes should be loving when they take in your reflection in the mirror. your words should be made of flowers and soft scents as you validate your own worth. and that takes time.

you may be feeling awful right now. you may feel like you're rotting inside and full of dirt and rocks and like your heart is eroding away. but darlings, you are made of magic. and it hurts like hell now, but so many people have seen and will see the glow to your skin, the life in your every word, the beauty in your voice. and they will help you learn to love yourselves.

and you may not always love yourselves because it's so hard to love yourself all the time.

but that's okay. you are loved and supported. i know i love you enough for the both of us. and i don't even fully know you. so if i can love you with all my heart, knowing only a tiny bit of your beautiful mind and your gentle heart, can you imagine how much you will be loved and are loved by those that know you better?

you are gorgeous and lovely and brilliant and angelic and you take my breath away. so even if you want to hurt yourselves, soften your touch. hug yourselves tight and do small kind things for yourselves and try to take deep breaths. and since i can't whisper these words to you again and again and again, please try to whisper them to yourselves.

"you are so loved. you are so beautiful. you are otherworldly and there is no one who is the same beautiful as you. and you take their breath away."

it's okay not to be okay lovelies.

we're all a little broken inside.

but that doesn't change your worth.

you're still the universe and more.

and you're going to feel okay.

more than that, you're gonna be happy.

and you deserve that.

i can't even tell you how much you deserve that.

please take care of yourselves, be kind to yourselves, and treat yourselves because you're special and you're worth it!

i'm sending you all warm cuddles and virtual hugs!

eat and stay hydrated!

love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

💞(｀・ω・')